Shadows In Durango

Chapter 139

*:kkxG0fig's POV*Fkkx

The house felt eerily quiet as the minutes dragged on. The soft drone of a reality show was playing in the

background, but I couldn't even focus on it.

The artificial laughter and overtic arguments seemed absurd against the real life scenarios brewing in my

own reality.

| sat on the edge of the couch, my hands clasped so tightly in my lap that my knuckles were pulsing white.

Vincent lounged beside me, with his arm draped over the back of the couch, pretending to watch the screen,

though | knew he wasn't paying much attention to it either. His jaw was tense, his eyes darting toward the

window every few seconds...

Vincent's father had been gone for a fair few hours now, off on sof his "errands" that apparently couldn't

wait any longer.

Before he left, he had made a conscious effort to make arrangements for tomorrow - to bring them here for the

‘meeting’ to which they dreadfully agreed to...

| tried not to let myself think in to it too much since | knew that it would only cause an unnecessary panic attack

so instead, | decided to attempt to go with the flow.

It was better that we do this tomorrow - get it over with - as opposed to procrastinating, right?

"This is bullshit - the show | mean! How are you feeling?" Vincent's voice broke through my spiraling thoughts as

| turned to look up at him, finding his eyes settled on me.

"As okay as | can be," | replied quietly with a small shrug. "Time's running out, isn't it? | just need to roll with it

and pray for a miracle..."

"How do you feel about tomorrow though? You seem far too... calm for my liking. Do you think you'll be able to

handle seeing them after so long?" He tests, as | lift my left hand up to rub at my drying throat...

Tomorrow...

The day in which my father and brothers would walk through that door, and everything would hinge on whether

we could sell this twisted plan to them or not.

But | knew deep down that | didn't have the luxury of failing anymore... this has to work if it's the last thing | do!

"| figured that if | break down and cry, then it will only add to our whole act, won't it? I'll just look more miserable

to them, so I'm just telling myself that it's ok to fall apart when | see them..." | explain my reasoning, sounding as

though | was trying to convince myself as opposed to him.

"Yeah, well, that's a decent way to look at it... but just know Sofia, that I'm proud of you, you know? For even

agreeing to face them for the first tin a long time, that's major. I'll have your back with this right to the very

end - trust- I'm certainly not scared of them so neither should you be anymore!" Vincent's words are gentle,

as my lips part in surprise at what he had said.

He's proud ofand he'll have my back right to the end?

Woah...

But before | can think up a further response, a low rumble of an engine pulling up into the driveway shattered

our valuable moment, as Vincent instantly twisted himself around to look out of the window.

"My father." He states, getting a better look at the car, as | released a breath | hadn't been aware | had caged in

since hearing him pull up.

Vincent sat up straighter, moving his head around a little to peak out of the cracks in the blinds to watch him exit

the vehicle.

"He's got that other guy with him, I'm guessing to help with the makeup and shit..." He recites, as my hands

instinctively begin to knot themselves together once again.

Not a moment later, the front door was heard opening, and the sound of footsteps echoed in the hallway.

"VINCENT?!" His father's voice booms loudly, obviously unaware that we were both only down the hall...

"In here!" Vincent calls back, at a lesser tone, before more footsteps are heard and Vincent's father appears in

the room with us first, his broad shoulders taking up most of the doorframe.

Behind him was a shorter man, bald and wiry, with a wheeled case trailing in behind him. He looked completely

out of place in the house, dressed in a sleek black turtleneck and slim-fitting black trousers that screamed high-

end fashion. "This," Vincent's father announced, stepping aside and gesturing toward the stranger, "is Sergio.

He'll be taking care of the... adjustments that we need for tomorrow."

"Adjustments," | repeated in a breath, my stomach flipping as I glanced at the case Serwas rolling behind him

- it clattering with products.

It looked like the kind of kit makeup artists used for professional photoshoots or crscene re-creations

maybe... that would be more suiting!

Vincent stood, his towering fra stark contrast to Sergio's diminutive stature. He crossed his arms over his

chest, his gaze hard as he studied the man. "You told him what he's here for | take it?" Vincent tests his father-

"Of course," He retorts sharply, brushing past him and bringing himself further into the room. "Sergio's the best.

He'll make it look convincing. I've used him many times in the past - he knows what | get up to in my spare time,

don't you pal?" He chuckles, as Serclicks his tongue and shakes his head in an airy fashion.

Sergave a tight-lipped smile, his accent crisp and unmistakably sounding French. "I understand that zis is

more... delicate work, yes. But do not worry. | will make her look - how you say - like a homeless dog."

A homeless dog?!

Really?!

If this whole scenahadn't been so tense then | would have laughed out loud at how ridiculous his metaphor

sounded!

"Stand up, please," Sersuddenly instructedwith a sharp clap of his hands, looking directly atnow as

though there were no more tto waste. "I need to see what | am working with here."

| hesitated, glancing at Vincent first, but he gavea small nod of encouragement. Reluctantly, | pushed myself

up to my feet, my knees buckling beneathslightly...

Serstepped closer, his eyes narrowing as he studiedwith the intensity of an artist sizing up his subject as

| squirmed under his sharp eye. He circledslowly, his hand reaching out to lift my chin.

His bony fingers were cold and clinical as he tilted my face toward the light, pressing lightly on my cheekbones

and jawline with enough pressure to leave a white mark.

"You have delicate features," he murmured, half to himself. "Small frbut zis is actually a good thing! Shall |

say, za bruises will look more tic on you because you are bony?"

My stomach turned as he spoke, but | held still, refusing to let him see how much his words bothered me...

'The bruises will look good on you..."

‘Because you are bony..."

Great, I'm absolutely thrilled about that, thanks Sergio! - is what | wanted to say to him, but | didn't, instead, |

just stood still and allowed for him to continue his poking and prodding. "Turn around," he ordered next, and | did

so stiffly, feeling his eyes on my back next.

When he finally cback around to face me, he frowned thoughtfully. "I will need to see more," he said, waving

his hand vaguely. "Ze arms, ze shoulders - per'aps even ze legs - you must strip!" He waves his wrist, as

Vincent's voice suddenly fills the space.

"Strip? Fuck off with that! I'll have her change in to shorts and a vest but that's as good as you'll get!" Vincent's

tone was sharp, his body going rigid as | was thankful for his support on this.

| didn't want to strip down right here, right now, not in front of all three of them for them all just to stare ata

little longer...

Serraised a brow, clearly unimpressed by Vincent's outburst. "If you want zis to be believable, monsieur, then

| must do my job properly."

"You'll do it the way I tell you to," Vincent growled, his voice low and dangerous and holding no room for

argument.

The tension in the room was suffocating. Serheld Vincent's glare for a moment before finally raising his hands

in a placating gesture. "Very well," he said coolly. "I will do as you wish. But do not blme if ze result is... less

perfect." Sermeekly shrugged before continuing, "If ze marks are not in ze right places, then it will all look

fake, zis is the only reason | ask. | must see her skin to make it more convincing, yes? Have her change quickly

then." He demands, as Vincent stretches his hand out forto take, which I quickly move towards him to do.

Vincent's face was a picture, red and hard set, as he weaved us swiftly out of there, passing by his father's

amused smirk on the way out, as my pulse thundered throughout my body.

| was preparing myself to becSergio's next art project...

‘The broken girl with the uncertain future’, that's what he could call it...

| just hope that it's all worth it tomorrow and that it's good enough to work!