Chapter 57

 Even though I was relieved not to be locked up in a basement anymore, I was still rather unhappy to know he planned to keep me in his room. How was I supposed to escape if he always was around? Passing through his gang would already be enough of a difficult matter, if I had to worry about having him around all the time too, I wasn't close of escaping! Plus, I needed to keep in mind who I was messing with: Anton Carmichael! The uncatchable criminal who was known for his insanity and cruelty. A terrible thought twisted painfully my belly. Maybe I was too enthousiastic when I assumed his room would be any better than a basement! Oh no, I hope he wasn't planning to tie me up to his bed with some ropes and leave me in the dark all day! But being alone in the dark would still be better than...

"Miss MacCarthy, this way please." Politely instructed me Anton, taking my hand to gently pull me toward another flat of stairs.

   I followed him toward the wooden stairs, watching the photos on the white walls: Nothing which would help me know where I was exactly, that was only pictures of animals. At least, I could reassure myself by thinking his room wasn't undergroud. That was maybe an unrational fear, but I couldn't stand to be in the dark undergroud. It felt like a grave to me and I was suffocating. At this thought, I squeezed my hand a little tighter in need for comfort. Anton looked at me, an eyebrow raised and a faint smirk playing on his lips. Realizing the warm and soft thing I was squeezing in my hand for comfort was in fact his own hand, I retracted my motion and glared at him. His own brown gaze hardened a little as he smirk, on the contrary, grew amused. But he didn't say anything and led me up the stairs. There was several door upstairs, all in soft beige colors, except for a more modern black one at the right end of the hallway. I was curious to see where led the beige doors, but all of them were closed. As he dragged me behind him in the hallway, I tried to glance through the entrance of one door which might have been left slightly ajar, but he stopped us in front of the black one.

"This is my room." He annouced, opening it with a silver key he had around his neck but I didn't notice until then. "And your room for the during of your stay."

   Anton opened the room and my eyes grew wide open. Like everywhere else in the house, the walls were white except for a scarlet one. On the opposed wall to the door was a window surrounded by two black curtains and a large bed with a crimson blanket and pillows was pushed beside the door. A black cupboard was pushed against the wall and in a corner was a matching wooden desk. The floor was made of the same black wood, but covered with a fluffy scarlet carpet. Well, I was expecting a weird and creepy place, not a spacy and well-lighted room. While I was curiously examinating my new surroundings, Anton crept up beside me.

"So, what do you think?" He asked me with a smirk, amused by my astonished expression.

"I... I think it's way better than what I expected." I honestly replied, my shoulders unwinding in relief. "I wasn't expecting that from my kidnappers!"

   My last sentance was said in a sharp, reproaching tone. I wasn't going to be like those girls who feel so relieved not to be abused during their captivity that they thought of it as an act of kindness from their kidnappers! That was called Stockholm Syndrome and that was an unhealthy relationship! So even though I was relieved to be kept in a quite nice room, I took an harsh tone to let him know he wasn't going to win me over like that. Though, instead of getting mad, Anton laughed.

"What did you think, Miss MacCarthy?!" He laughed, his low voice giving me shivers despite myself. "That you'd be chained up to my bed in a dark room?"

   Well, yes. That's exactly what I was imaginating. Though, I wasn't going to admit it, so instead, I straightened my back as much as I could, even though I was still shorter than him from a few inches, and had a polite cough. Doing this, I looked like a younger version of Bree from Desperate Housewives. That wasn't the moment to be weak, that was the moment to be strong! And being the daughter of a great politician, I had learned that if you want to give an impression of power, you shall look calm, composed and confident. That was time to show him who was the boss!

"This is way cleaner than what I thought." I calmly pointed out, trying to distract him so that he wouldn't be too wary of me. "From the outside, the house looked abandonned."

"Yes, I admit that I'm quite strict about cleanness in the house." Admitted Anton, a smug smile flashing across his plump lips. "But it does look abandonned on the outside, that way people doesn't believe there's anyone in there."

   Ah! I see. I took a step back, feeling something was off. Why was he telling me all this if he was planning to let me go? Something was off, definitely.

"Ah, worry not Miss Carthy, I don't plan on hurting you." He darkly chuckled, stepping closer to me. "As I said, as long as you don't do anything to escape, you shall be treated with every curtesy. We're robbers, not torturers!"

"You're not torturers?" I darkly repeated, this time being the one to initiate eye contact.

   I knew my first plan was to play nice so that I could lure him to trust me, but he was trying to play the good guy and I couldn't let that slip. As always when I was angry, I was speaking my mind rather than sugarcoating what I was saying. That was a dangerous game, but I couldn't help myself.

"You're not a torturer?!" I joylessly huffed, shaking my head. "I know who you are and what you've done!"

"You know nothing about me." He said, dead serious.

   The cold warning in his calm yet dark voice should've been enough to shut me up, but I was too angry. He had a reputation of torturer, kidnapper and murdered. So was he really expecting me to fall for his gentleman act?!

"I know what you did!" I hissed between my clenched teeth. "You kidnapped the wife of a bank manager in the Illinois and you violently tortured her before to kill her. You broke into the house of a rich politician and raped his teenage daughter. You held hostage children and you sent pieces of them to their parents."

"Watch out what you're saying!" He exclaimed, before to resume more calmly. "I didn't do nothing of what you're accusing me of."

"Oh yeah?" I sarcastically glared at him. "Well, that's not what my father says."

"Your father? Your father?!" Anton scoffed, his ebony bangs almost floating around his pale face. "It's not like your father's completely innocent eithe..."

   SLAP! I couldn't hold myself back and slapped him across the face. That wasn't hard, but a light pink handprint appeared on his pearl white skin underneath the deep blue bruise I already left him. Looking at me in utter shock, he fell mute for a second, frozen. Clearly, that was the first time in quite a while anyone dared to raised an hand on him. Let alone the fragile-looking little daughter of a politician!

"Don't criticize my father!" I hissed under my raspy breath. "I forbid you that!"

   My anger retreated and then, I suddenly realized what I just did. Oh no! What did I got myself into? I shrunk on the spot, my shoulders fearfully slouching as I nervously waited for his reaction. This time, no doubt that he was going to strike me. Anton took several steps closer to me, causing me to step back. Finally, he stopped, threateningly leaning closer to me. I arched my back backward, hoping to see what he'd do to me soon enough to prevent it from happening. His burning brown eyes glared straight into mine, his anger so fiery that it could've burned my soul itself. Clenching his fists, he breathing heavily, like a furious bull. I felt my shoulders shake a little in anticipation of what he was about to do to me. But just as I thought he was going to punch me, Anton balled and unballed several times his fists and took a few deep breath.

"Clearly, you've got a very low opinion of me, Miss MacCarthy." He dryly told me, his expression still stern. "I understand it is a very difficult day for you. I'm gonna leave you be!"

   He stepped back, the warmth emanating from his toned body dissipating from mine. Taking a deep breath, I just couldn't believe he didn't punch me. Was he really going to leave me alone?! He swiftly turned around and walked toward the door. But just as he was about to leave, he turned around to go back on his tracks.

"I'm gonna leave you be, but I need a little guarantee from you first!" He exclaimed, more to himself than to me. "I need to take your phone first!"

"What?!" I shrieked as he shoved his hands in the pockets of my jacket. "No!"

   But that was too late! He pulled me phone out of his pocket and quickly walked out of the room. I tried to go after him, but he slammed the door to my face and locked it, probably with the silver key he had around his neck.

"One last thing, Miss MacCarthy!" Anton told me through the door. "You should learn not to systematically believe all what your father says."

   With that, I heard his footsteps walk downstairs. You should learn not to systematically believe all what your father says? What was it supposed to mean? Shaking the doorknob energically, I grew angrily frustrated to see it resist.

"Damn criminal!" I yelled, ragingly punching the red wall beside the door.

   Of course, I tried to window too, but it was locked. And no matter how much I tried to gesture in front of the glassy surface, there was no one in the street down there to see me. Feeling a wave of discouragement wash over me, I dropped on his bed, allowing the fluffy crimson blanket to caress my thighs. He took my phone! I could've called the police if I still had my phone on me! I sighed, taking my head in my hands. You idiot! Why didn't you think of calling the cops sooner?! Now, it was too late! Well... I had no time to desperate. Forcing my negative thoughts in the back of my head, I listed all the possibilities to escape that I had. Maybe I could trash his room until he finds himself forced to run back upstairs? No, he was already fuming when I last provoked him, that was better to let him cool down a little before to try to challenge him again. Maybe I could look for something in the room to force the door open? Standing up, I started searching the room. Opening the cupboard, I found mostly dark colored male clothes, but to my surprise there was also female clothing. I pulled a floral dress out. That was just the type of thing that I would wear. That was startling to find delicate female clothing in an outlaw's room, but nothing which could help me escape.

"Ok!" I sighed, closing the cupboard. "What about the desk?"

   I opened the drawers, finding some notebooks. But I didn't look into them, too focused on finding something to open the door with. Finally, I found a pointy pin I maybe could use. Sliding it in the keyhole, I slowly and patiently started working on it.

"Nooo!" I gasped in frustration when the pin twisted itself.

   I tried the door. It was still locked. Tossing the now useless pin aside, I dropped back on the bed, at the edge of the sulky mood. After all, maybe there was no need to try to force the door. Once my anger calmed down quite a bit, I also realized how much of a bad idea it was to force the door. Trying to run away like that, I might have stumbled upon one of Anton's henchmen and I would've been thrown back in the basement. Maybe the best thing I had to do was wait. Trying to enjoy peace while the gang leader was away and therefore not a potencial threat to me, I decided to wait. After all, I was the daughter of the great Robert MacCarthy! He certainly had thrown hundreds of policemen after me! I was sure that if I waited for an hour or two, a bunch of policemen would show up and set me free themselves. So, I decided to patiently wait, keeping myself busy by drawing figures in the air with my finger. The sky slowly turned orange, the sunlight declining. Hours were ticking by, but still no sign of the cops outside.

"Come on, Dad..." I whispered to myself. "What are you doing?"

   Suddenly, I heard footsteps going upstairs. I jumped off of the bed, looking expectantly at the door. Very well, if the police wasn't coming to me, I'd find a way to escape myself! Balling my fists in determination, I waited for Anton or whoever gang member he'd have sent up to me to open the door. I knew I was walking a straight line and that I was on a tight rope, but I could handle. We were playing a dangerous game. But I was going to win it!

"I'm back, Miss MacCarthy!" Announced the now well-known low and kinda gruffy voice, while a metallic sound could be heard.

   As he unlocked the door, my eyes held no trace of fear.