Racing from town to Gladius's estate, Rumald held his hand against his face with his elbow propped up the driver's door as he drove Albert's car through the woods. Every now and then, he would shake his head at himself, hating Milah more than he had ever hated her. The phone call had started out weirdly, with Milah asking how Albert and her mother were, giving him some sob story of how she missed seeing them at Christmas. Every word out of her mouth was a lie and he knew it, could hear it in her voice. He had nearly thrown his phone across the room, refusing to listen to anymore lies out of her, but Rumald had kept himself in check and listened to her prattle on about nonsense. She had babbled to him about how he had kicked her out of her home before Christmas and it was all his fault that Albert had a terrible Christmas. Rumald had kept his mouth shut, he knew better than to show weakness to Milah – she would only use it against him.
Rumald leant off the driver's door and stretched his other arm out to collect the remote from the passenger seat beside him. Clicking the button on the remote, when the gates were in sight, he slowed for a few seconds and then accelerated as he turned into Gladius's drive, narrowly missing the gates with perfect precision. He tossed the remote to the seat and after a few moments, glanced into the rear view mirror to see the gates closing behind him. He had done the drive so many times, Rumald was sure he could have done it with his eyes closed.
As he passed by the main house, his mind wandered back six years ago, driving by like so many evenings, hoping he might see Milah, who was pregnant with Albert at the time. Rumald cursed his younger self. He hated that snivelling man, who he had been then – weak, pathetic, a coward. If the man he was today had been there at the time, he would have moved to Storybrooke, but he would never have married Milah. Rumald would never abandon his own child, however it had been a foolish mistake and one, he would never be able to redeem. Rumald thought, his younger self should have known better – people like him, never got happy endings. No fairy tale, ever, had the villain or the monster getting a happy ending. And with everything Rumald had done – that he remembered and been told about – he didn't deserve to be happily ever after with Belle either.
Pulling up outside his old room, Rumald got out of the car and slammed the car door behind him. There was a strange noise from the car, sounding like a squeak. He halted and looked at the car. Putting it down to hearing things, he headed up the stairs to his room and unlocked the door, turning on the light as he entered. He let his gaze wander the room, checking everything was where they had left it, and crossed the room to the bedroom. The room flooded with light when he turned on the light, flooding the room as he cut into the bathroom and instantly dropped to his knees. He removed the panel from the bath, tossed it into the bath tub and snatched the photo album out from under the bath.
He stood up with the album between his hands and came into the bedroom to see it in the light. The gold writing glistened in the poor light, highlighting the title of the album. It had been decades since he had seen the album. His father had always kept it locked in a glass cabinet in his office, where he had kept many of Rumald's mother's belongings. The only time Rumald had got to see them, were when his father had requested to see him in his office or Rumald had snuck into his father office to see them, receiving many beatings when he had been caught. Without thinking, Rumald raised his right hand to trace a finger over the scar on his lip, a daily reminded of the treatment his father had given him. His body was covered in many scars from his father, most of them faded with time, but all still sore to this day.
With the album in his hands, Rumald allowed himself to have a moment and opened the album. He seethed seeing his father. Moving his gaze to the beautiful woman in the photo, Rumald never knew how to feel about his mother. Balancing the album on his forearm, Rumald traced a finger down the face of his mother, wishing he could have known her. His aunts had told him plenty of stories about his mother, so he knew what she had been like, but that could never replace the fact he had missed out on knowing her. The opportunity to have private moments with his mother had been ripped away from him by delivery complications. Rumald closed the album, while the thought of his mother holding him in her arms as her life seeped away from her.
He propped the album under his arm, guarding it close to himself, as he left the way he had come in, turning off the lights and locking the door behind him. His feet pounded down the stairs, while he checked the time on his phone after retrieving it from the inside pocket of his overcoat. He had about fifty minutes to get to the meet point. Quickening his step, Rumald yanked open the car door and threw himself into the car, and slammed his car door as he placed the album carefully onto the seat beside him. He halted with his hand on top of the leather album. He really did not want to give it back to his father. When he had originally left Scotland for Storybrooke, Rumald had wanted something of his mother's to bring with him, so he could have a part of her with him. The coward he had been, had chickened out of taking something at the time. He could not believe it, when Belle had told him that he had taken the album at his aunt's wake and had brought it back for her. In that moment, Rumald had really wanted to be the man she loved, especially if he had been brave enough to do what the coward could not do.
Turning the key, the car roared back to life and Rumald quickly whipped the car round to screech out of there. He heard a noise again and looked round, sure he heard something from the back of the car. Rumald waited, listening, after a while of hearing nothing, he turned his attention forward and drove on by the main house.
After driving for forty minutes, Rumald noticed he was losing time and was going to be late meeting Milah. Pushing his foot flat to the floor, the car quickly sped up making the trees outside blur into one, a constant brown and green with the darkness for a background. Rumald knew he was not far from Oxford. Ideally, he had wanted to be there before Milah arrived. They already had the upper hand over him and he wanted to edge back as much ground from them as he could. He had told her they would meet in Oxford around nine o'clock, giving him about an hour and half to get there as he had collect the photo album first. The corner of his mouth crooked into half a smile, knowing Dove and Gladius were already in Oxford.
For a second, Rumald let his gaze flick to the photo album, disappointed he could not keep the album. He had surprised himself, when he had told Gladius and Dove, it was their only option. Maybe if he had more time, he could have made a replica of the album and given that to his father. Though Rumald knew, it would not have worked. His father knew every mark on the album. It was the most sacred item of his mother's. The only times it came out of the glass cabinet was her birthday and the eve of her death, where his father would have drowned himself in expensive bottle of scotch. There was no other choice, he had to give it up for Belle, for his family's safety. No matter how much he wanted to keep it and have power over his father – He had no choice.
As he entered Oxford from Welchville, Rumald slowed his pace and turned off route 121 and followed the road until it came to a left bend, and turned off the road near the marina. Slowing the car even more, Rumald drove around the units Dove had told him about and found the area Dove had described perfectly. A small tarmac area was situated behind the units and looked out on the river. To his right, Rumald noticed there was a boat ramp leading down to the river as he drove into the isolated area.
Whipping the car round, kicking up a cloud of smoke and spraying gravel everywhere, Rumald parked the car facing the way he had entered, feeling happier he was first to arrive. He turned the car off and heard a noise in the back of the car. Twisting in his seat, he listened intently and swore he heard hushed voices coming from the back of the car. Rumald climbed out of the car, leaving his door open and opened the trunk.
"What the hell are you two doing here!" Rumald exclaimed at the two idiots in the trunk.
Emma punched Albert in the chest, causing an 'Oof' to erupt out of Albert, as she explained. "I told him, Mr Gold! I told him we had to go to the house!" She thumped Albert again. "But he wouldn't listen!"
"I thought I could trust you two!" Rumald shouted down at them.
"I want to help Belle." Albert pleaded, looking up at his father.
"You were supposed to help by going home!" He threw his hands up into the air, unable to think clearly, as his temper spilled out. "When I tell you to do something, I expect you to do it, Albert! And you!" Rumald pointed his finger at Emma. "We had a deal!"
Giving Rumald a poor shrug of her shoulders, Emma said. "I told him! I swear!"
Rumald stopped with his mouth wide open, ready to shout some more at them, when he thought he heard a car approaching. With his left hand, he lowered the trunk lid to see headlights approaching. He lifted the trunk to hide himself from sight.
"Stay in the trunk and keep your goddamn mouths close." Rumald warned them, his voice menacing in a hush tone. Petrified, the pair just nodded the heads at Rumald. Quickly, he closed the trunk and straightened his overcoat by tugging on the lapels of it. Walking from the rear of the car to the front of it, Rumald closed his driver's door as he passed it and sat down onto the front of the car, casually watching Milah drive further into the space and pull up a short distance away from him.
The interior light came on at the same time she opened her car door, revealing the grin she was wearing. Rumald kept his mask in place, refusing to show her any emotion or give away he was terrified about the kids being in the trunk. He was quietly fuming to himself, toying with the band of his ring on his right hand.
"You are the only man, who makes a three-piece suit sexy." Milah voiced to him, sauntering her way from her car to stand a couple of feet away from him.
Rumald allowed the corners of his lips to flex into a smile for a second. "You can look, dearie, but don't touch."
"We both know you can't resist me." She took the few steps to close the space between them and reached out her hands to touch his face. Blocking her hands and stepping by her, Rumald put some space back between them.
Seeing the grin on her face, Rumald held himself back from slapping it off of her face, as she said to him. "Scared it might mean something to you."
"Not at all." Rumald allowed himself a chuckle. "Just don't know where your hands have been, dearie. Don't want to catch anything."
"You didn't complain last time." Milah turned away from him, shielding her face away from him in the darkness.
"And the last time was so memorable, I've forgotten it." He smiled, mimicking her grin from earlier, when her head snapped to look at him. 'If only she knew the irony of the situation', he thought to himself, glad he could not remember the encounter.
Her finger pointed at him, threatening him. "You ought to watch the way you talk to me." Milah fumed. "Remember, I have Belle."
Clasping his hands together in front of him, Rumald eyed her suspiciously, feeling in his gut that something was not right. He flicked his eyes in the direction of her car, looking for a face shrouded in the darkness. Gradually, he brought his gaze back to Milah when he could not see anything inside of her car. Milah was now sat on the front of Albert's car in the spot he had sat a minute ago.
"I don't know why you've got such a thing for Belle." She commented, leaning back onto the car, her arms braced behind her onto the bonnet. "She's nothing like me."
Rumald raised his scarred eyebrow at her. "Maybe that's why, dearie."
Milah sat up. "It won't last." She quickly threw at him. "I've told you this before. She'll leave you, when she finally sees the real you. She's only ever caught glimpses of the rear you and she ran away from you to come back later. Imagine, if she knew how dark you really could be." She laughed evilly. "She'd be off like a rocket and would not be back this time."
"Are we ever going to exchange?" He inquired, wanting more than ever to strangulate her.
"Patience, Rum." She hopped off the front of Albert's car and closed the gap between them, catching the front of his overcoat before he could step away. "You used to enjoy slow foreplay. Remember how good it used to be?"
Rumald turned his head away from her, avoiding her as best as he could. "I would rather forget you." 'Instead of forgetting Belle.', he finished his sentence in his head.
Her hand reached up and grabbed him by his chin, and forced him to look at her. "You seriously need to remember, who has the power here."
"You? Have power?" Rumald scoffed at her, snatching his chin out of her hold. "My father is the one with the power here."
"At least he knows how to get what he wants." She sneered into his face.
Rumald leaned further into her face, bringing their noses an inch from each other. "I know exactly what I want and it isn't you, dearie."
His head snapped to the right, while his left cheek began to tingle from the mark she had slapped across his face. Rumald tightened his jaw, refusing the speak out in anger, and breathed in heavily through his nose. He let out a low animalistic growl, slowly turning his head back to look at her. She was still stood in front of him, fearlessly she met his eyes with a smirk on her face. The look she wore was quickly torn off her face, when she let out a loud squeak, surprised at Rumald grabbing her by her throat and slamming her down onto the bonnet of the car.
"Do I need to remind you, dearie, you're the one who left me?" Rumald bellowed at her, his grip around her throat tight causing her to gasp for air.
"Kill…an!" She wheezed grabbing at Rumald's arm, clawing her finger nails into his overcoat. Before Rumald could figure out what she had said, a sharp pain came to the back of his head and forced him down onto his knees. He struggled to grab the front of the car and lost his grip, falling helplessly down onto the ground. Reaching a hand up to the back of his head, Rumald groaned at the throbbing pain, suddenly feeling a wave of nausea.
"What took you so long?" Milah gasped for air as she spoke, clutching her hand to her throat, still lying on the bonnet of the car.
Killian leant over her and grabbed her arm to help her up from the car, saying. "Sorry, love. I didn't want him to hear me."
"Too bad you didn't think like that last time." She hit out at Killian, her voice hoarse as she spoke.
"That was not my fault." He defended himself, following her as she stumbled away to her own car. "You insisted on talking to him. I just wanted to shoot him."
"Me?" Milah whipped round to face him, glaring menacingly at him.
Killian held up his hands in surrender. "Look, we can argue about this later." He said and gestured to Rumald. "Let's take him to Malcolm and get paid."
With his right hand on the back of his head, Rumald pushed himself up from the ground, feeling woozy as he got onto his knees. Trying to force himself to focus, he blinked his eyes a couple of times with his hand on the car supporting himself. The world spun, while Rumald leant heavily onto the car and struggled up onto his feet.
"Killian." She threw her hand in Rumald's direction, alerting Killian to Rumald.
Staggering round, keeping his hand near the car for aid, Rumald turned in time to see Killian walking towards him, holding a tyre iron in his right hand. He shook his head trying to rid himself of his dizziness, but only succeeded in making himself feel more sick as the throbbing at the back of his head increased with the movement. His legs felt weak, ready to collapse from underneath him. The only thought keeping him standing was thinking of Belle. He could not fail her and the baby. He refused!
"I'm going to enjoy this." Killian swung back the tire iron as he approached, ready to take another swing at Rumald. As Killian swung the tire iron at him, Rumald clumsy stepped into Killian and blocked Killian arm, while hastily grabbing onto Killian's clothes to anchor him from falling down onto the ground. Bending his head forward, Rumald pleaded with himself not to be sick as he felt his stomach churn. He was lifting his head back up and looked up in time to see Killian head butt him. With his right hand clutching at Killian's shirt, Rumald dropped like a deadweight onto the knees again. His head was bowed down, his chin on his chest, as the stars circled his head. The final blow came from Killian kneeing him in the face, knocking him out and flat onto his back.
Desperate to keep himself conscious, Rumald urged himself to move, to breath, to roll onto his side, to do anything apart from lose conscious. The darkness was too strong to fight off, so he surrendered himself to it, thinking how he had failed Belle. He was barely aware of being hefted into the back of Milah's car, dumped face down onto the backseat of the car.
