"What?" Olivia gasped as she tried to gently pull away from Tony's hold. The sudden change in her father's tone had confused her, even scared her.
"It's alright," Tony spoke calmly, retaining his grip on her hands.
"No, no," she shook her head, "you said the end. What did you mean, the end?"
"Nothing," he said, plastering a smile on his face, "everything comes to an end, it's only natural."
"I wanna go home," Olivia suddenly declared, her eyes filling with tears, "take me home."
"Are you… are you scared of me?" Tony asked, genuinely surprised. "Darlin, there's nothing to be frightened of, I would never hurt you, not you. No, you're not the one that deserves… It's me, you understand, it's always me."
"No, please don't," Olivia pleaded with him as understanding dawned on her, "promise me."
"I promise I will never hurt you. Not you."
"Is that why you brought me here?" she asked, glancing at the sheer drop so terrifyingly close to them, the sound of the water that rushed along the ravine at the bottom suddenly roared in her ears.
"No," he answered honestly, "that wasn't my plan, not at first, but… I know now, I know you, and that's enough for me. I can't go back to prison, Liv. I can't."
"Not even for me?"
"Please don't ask me that."
"You promised you would never hurt me."
"I meant it."
"But doing… that, that will hurt me."
"I'm sorry," he spoke quietly now as he let go of her hands.
But Olivia was not willing to let him go and instead grabbed onto his hands and held on tightly.
"Let me go," he demanded calmly.
"No."
"Olivia, my darling, you don't understand, and I hope you never have to find out what it's like… inside… I can't do it, I'm sorry."
And with that, he wrenched his hands away from Olivia, fighting against her as she struggled to hold onto him. But, despite her desperation to hold onto her father, he was too strong for her and, as he threw her off, she stumbled back. With a scream of impending horror, her arms flailing, she fell backwards towards the black nothingness that lay beyond the cliff's edge. Acting now purely by reflex, Tony reached out for his daughter. As their hands touched and fingers intertwined, they fell together, Olivia over the edge, her only link to life was now her father lying flat on his stomach on top of the cliff, reaching into the void and grasping her arm as her body swayed through the air, broken only by her feet scuffing against the cliff wall as she scrambled to get a foothold.
Carla rested her forehead on the glass pane of the unmarked police car's rear side window, watching as the English countryside sped past. She had insisted that both her and Peter be allowed to travel with the detectives after they had traced Tony's phone to a rural area outside of Manchester.
"How far away are we?" she asked the detectives.
"About fifteen minutes until we enter the range," the detective that was driving answered. "We were able to triangulate the area based on the towers closest to where he received the phone call. We'll coordinate with the local police to pinpoint his location."
"How long will that take?" Carla sighed audibly at what she considered unnecessary delays in finding her daughter. "For all we know he's already moved her to another location."
Frustrated, she stared again at the road they were travelling and, for the first time, began to read the road signs and fully comprehend where they were going.
"Where's my phone?" she asked suddenly, rummaging through her hand bag that she had placed on the middle seat between her and Peter.
"What's wrong, love?" he asked.
"My phone," she muttered, still poking through her belongings before looking up at Peter and demanding, "give me your phone."
"What?"
"Give!" she motioned to him impatiently.
"Okay," he agreed, handing his phone over to her without further question. "What are you–"
"Map," was her only explanation as she opened the map app and studied the area they were in and where they were headed. "I knew it."
"Knew what?" Peter asked, exasperated by Carla's lack of explanation.
"There's a hotel," Carla spoke directly to the detectives, leaning forward and tapping the phone screen, "right here. That's where he is."
"What makes you say that?"
"I've been there before," Carla explained, "with Tony; he took all four of us there, him, me, Maria, Liam. It was weird, the whole weekend."
"In what way?" Peter asked.
"Everything," Carla began to explain, "it's not like Tony was a big fan of Liam or Maria, well," Carla laughed, "he wasn't a fan of hers yet. To want to spend the whole weekend with them, it was strange. And then it turns out the hotel, it had been a part of this revenge he'd plotted against an old business associate of his, and the way he was telling us this story, it was like he was warning us, like he knew."
"About you and Liam?"
"Maybe, I don't know. All I know is that this hotel meant something to him, it was symbolic of his past victory. I'm sure that's where he's taken her."
The two detectives exchanged glances and, without uttering a word, entered the hotel's coordinates into their GPS system.
In the back seat, Peter took Carla's hand gently in his and softly whispered his assurances to her.
"Try not to worry, love, we're gonna find her, I promise you."
Carla smiled weakly at her husband and hoped his words were the truth of what was to come and not just wishful thinking.
"Hold on!" Tony cried out to Olivia as he reached his other hand down to reinforce the precarious grip he had on her arm, while silently pleading to a deity he wasn't sure existed, "please let her live."
"Daddy," Olivia whimpered the word that had never before passed her lips as she stared up at the man – her father – who now held her life in his hands.
"I've got you darlin," he said, pulling her slowly, painfully slowly, up the cliff face.
"Don't let go," she gasped.
"I'll never let you go."
Ignoring the pain as her body was dragged over the jagged rocks, Olivia fixed her eyes on Tony's and, the moment he had raised her high enough that she could assist him, she pressed her free hand into the dirt on the top of the cliff, fighting against the gravity that would have her fall. With a final effort, she was able to crawl to safety and onto the ledge where she promptly collapsed from a combination of exhaustion and relief.
Tony, the shock of almost losing his daughter suddenly hitting him with full force, fell back against the outer wall of the cave and, overwhelmed, buried his head in his hands.
"Yes," the hotel receptionist nodded as she inspected the photo the detective had presented to her, "I've seen them. He's Scottish, she's American. They checked in a few hours ago."
"What room are they in?" Carla demanded the critical information.
"Ahhh," the receptionist hesitated, "I'm not sure I'm authorised to–"
"Are you serious?" Carla cried. "Is she serious? That's my daughter and that piece of–"
"The child in this photo has been kidnapped," the detective explained.
"She didn't seem distressed."
"Give me strength," Carla muttered.
"The man is an escaped prisoner."
"Banged up for murder," Carla added.
"Oh, I see."
"So if you could show us to the room."
Without further hesitation, the receptionist – master key card in hand – led the group up a flight of stairs and along a wide and elegantly fitted out corridor before pausing in front of room 103.
The group remained silent as the detectives unlocked and entered the room as surreptitiously as possible, rushing in to secure the scene and rescue the girl.
"Empty," one of the detectives declared after they had finished checking the room, closet and adjoining ensuite bathroom.
"This is her jacket," Carla said, rushing to where the light jacket Olivia had chosen to wear on her flight home that day was draped across the bed, "they must be close."
"Call it in," the senior detective ordered his colleague before turning to Carla and Peter and explaining to them, "we'll organise a search of the grounds."
"Okay, let's go," Carla said, ready at once to head back out of the door.
"The local officers will be here any minute," the detective explained, "then we can execute our search properly, methodically."
"Methodically? This is my daughter! We need to go now."
"Love," Peter tried to placate his wife, "they're professionals, let them do their job."
"I can't deal with this," Carla shook her head impatiently before abruptly declaring, "I've gotta get outta here."
"Carla," Peter called after her retreating figure. "Where are you going?"
"Give me a minute, Peter," she said over her shoulder as she hurried from the room, "I need some air."
Carla stumbled blindly along the corridor and down the stairs before bursting out of the front doors of the hotel. She gulped in the fresh country air, forcing herself to breathe slowly and deeply, afraid that if she did not she would lose it completely. And then she would be of no use to Olivia in a moment when she needed her mother the most.
Olivia. The thought of her precious daughter alone with the man who had caused so much pain and destruction made her feel physically ill. Methodical search be damned, she would not wait any longer to begin the search. But where to begin, she mused, looking about her at the extensive hotel grounds that stretched into the distance and beyond into the neighbouring forest.
It was only then that she remembered a long-forgotten conversation she'd had with Liam after their ill-fated weekend getaway here years earlier; she remembered he had talked of the paranoia and fear he'd felt when Tony had led him into a cave, past the safety barriers and had – jokingly according to Tony – threatened to push Liam over the edge of the cliff to his certain death. It hadn't been an empty threat. Sure, Tony hadn't pushed Liam then and there, but it had only taken him a few short weeks to follow through on his threat to end Liam for good.
And now Tony had brought his own daughter to this dark and dangerous place. But what plans he had for Olivia were as yet still a mystery.
"Dad," Olivia whispered as she shuffled over to where Tony was sat on the floor, afraid to startle him, "Dad, are you okay?"
"Am I…?" he looked up at Olivia, the tears welling in his eyes threatening to overflow onto his cheeks, "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry."
Olivia allowed herself to be swept up in his arms as he held her close, not wanting to ever let her go.
"I thought I'd lost you," he sobbed into her shoulder.
"Promise me something," she spoke to him calmly, more calmly than she felt.
"Anything," he said, pulling back and looking her in the eye, "whatever you want, I'll do it."
"Promise me, whatever happens, you'll never ever think of… the end again."
"I promise," he nodded sincerely. "I don't know what got into me, I guess the thought of going back to prison…"
"Don't think about that," she urged him. "Think about happy things."
"Like what?"
"Like what we're gonna do with whatever time we've got left."
"I don't think we've got much time," Tony noted ruefully, "if your mother's true to form, she'll have us tracked down in no time at all."
"You got that right."
Startled, both Tony and Olivia looked into the dimly lit entrance passage from where the familiar voice had cut short their conversation.
"Mum!" Olivia cried, jumping to her feet and rushing into Carla's arms.
"Carla," Tony spoke his ex-wife's name calmly as he rose slowly to his feet and met her cold gaze with his own, "looking as beautiful as ever."