Flytrap | WATTYS 2022 SHORTLIST

10 | Shamrock

As they raced back to the house, Barbara found herself checking her watch at least every other minute. Each agonizing second that ticked closer to seven felt like the trickle of sand from a quickly depleting hourglass. Only this hourglass was her father's life, and each grain that fell was another breath lost.

"Relax," Richard said over the sharp jerks and shudders of the subway cart. "Your dad isn't wealthy, so he should be safe."

"But he's still powerful!" Barbara grimaced. "Just like all those other men."

"Yes, but it was their money that probably put them six feet under," he pointed out. "If Pamela couldn't get her hands on her fortune until now, how do you think she survived?"

Although the fluorescent bulb above flickered with the last of its life, its dim light still stung Barbara's eyes. Shutting them, she clenched her fist and struck it against the side of her chair. "Damn it! Can't this thing go any faster?"

Richard glanced at the faded map across from him. "Still got one more stop to go."

She let out a heavy sigh, slowly opening her eyes once more. "You saw what happened to all those other men. If my dad stays with her, he'll end up as just another obituary forgotten in a newspaper somewhere."

He gave a sympathetic nod, his usually playful eyes softening. "Why do you think Pamela's with him then? If not for the money, then what?"

"I don't know." She turned to gaze out the grimy window. "I've been wondering that myself."

The two of them went quiet as the train continued to tremble and quake over the tracks, its screeching wheels the only sound to fill the air. It wasn't until Richard tapped her shoulder and told her they had arrived did the silence finally shatter into pieces.

The station was dead despite the early hour, with only the occasional rat and homeless straggler found walking around. Ignoring them, Barbara and Richard continued out of the abandoned station and into the pouring rain.

"Here." Richard offered his coat to her, but Barbara shook her head.

"No, you need it. You'll get sick."

"Trust me, I won't." He smiled before placing it over her. "You might though."

"Thanks." She tried to smile as she pulled it over her head. A part of her wanted to give it back, knowing he needed it more than she did. But the other part of her wanted to wrap herself in its warmth and take in the woodsy scent left behind. Had he always smelled this good?

Deciding she didn't want to part from such an intoxicating fragrance, she pulled the coat even closer to her body. An instant wave of comfort came over her, almost as if the coat was a hug she hadn't realized she desperately needed.

But that feeling was soon short-lived once they reached the front door, opening it to find the towering figure of James Gordon waiting for them on the other side. Before Barbara could even utter a word, James reached out and pulled her to the side, away from Richard.

"You think you can come to my house and disrespect me like that?" James marched up to him, his nostrils flaring like a bull.

"Wha—What?" Richard stumbled back.

"Dad, what is going on?" Barbara demanded.

"Stay out of this, Barbara!" James glared at her before turning back to Richard. "As for you, get the hell out of my house!"

Horrified that her dad might actually hurt him, Barbara rushed in between them, grabbing a hold of her dad's arm. "Dad! Tell me what is going on!"

"I'm sorry, Barbara," a gentle voice said from down the hall. "But I had to tell your father what I saw."