A/N: So I really struggled with this chapter and it's not really pivotal to the story in any way, shape or form. Still, read if you like :) I managed to get myself slightly distracted with writing some Torchwood stories (any of you Torchwood fans?) but hopefully more updates to come on this in the near future. Thanks for all the reviews as always :)
"Would you like to see the stars, bella? They sparkle, you know, just like you." Stevie agreed awkwardly, hiding a desperate urge to clear her throat; she didn't want to rouse any unwanted suspicion. "He is no good for you, that man. Smith, you call him?"
"Smithy." Stevie knew she was too quick in correcting Keates; he stared at her for a couple of seconds, a quizzical look on his face.
"Yes, Smithy. You can do so much better, bella. He'll ruin you, won't keen you pure like the angel you are, bella. He'll treat you bad."
Keates maintained a fixated stare at Stevie's face, a manic look deep in his eyes that left Stevie feeling somewhat nauseous. It was hard to understand his words, granted; his Italian accent drenched the English he spoke. But his facial expressions, they were easy enough to read and Stevie did not like what she was seeing.
"Surely that's my prerogative?" Stevie knew she had to tread carefully now. There was no Smithy, no camera's, no-one on hand just in case.
"Of course, my bella." Keates grinned malignantly, rapping his knuckles on a nearby wooden door. "Options, Angel. Life is options; you take some, lose some." Keates shrugged as he spoke, lighting a cigar and he marched Stevie out to a nearby field. It was getting dark already and a moist coat of droplets began to manifest on the grass.
Shivering a little as the cold air stole her warmth, Stevie plastered a fake smile on her face, flicking her short hair out her eyes. Keates, a few feet in front, stopped suddenly and stared at the sky. "The stars, bella. I get them for you."
Closing her eyes, Stevie was rocked into a state of shock as two gun shot sounds resounded. Opening her eyes as she heard screams of terror, Stevie felt unnerved when all she could see was Keates grinning out the corner of her eye, metal glinting at her from his left hand.
"Your Smithy is good with guns, no? Not so good with you though, I believe. He hits?"
"No," Stevie shook her head as Keates laughed, holding the gun up in the moonlight.
"No? Max must be wrong then. I shoot him." Keates waited silently, clearly expecting Stevie to protest, not wanting to get blood on hands. But no such protest came. "You don't care?"
"He's not my man; he's yours."
"Smithy's mine too, what you think of that?" Keates grinned wickedly, cocking back the gun and pointing in the direction of Stevie. "And soon you will be too, yes?"
"I don't think so," Stevie jeered harshly, "I belong to no-one."
"Well, we'll see about that, bella." Closing an eye, Keates aligned the gun just centimetres away from Stevie's head and fired. Stevie felt the force of the bullet bypass her. Keates however just laughed wickedly and tilted his head back to the barn where Stevie and Smithy had started the night. "See you soon, bella."
Not if I can help it, Stevie muttered under her breath, quickening her pace as she backtracked their steps, watching over her shoulder as Keates marched in the opposite direction. But she wasn't safe, not yet.