“I’m Douglas Harrington.”
“Is that supposed to mean something to me?” With all the effort this guy has put in to get me here, I’m hoping he hasn’t gotten the wrong person.
That would make him the worst criminal ever.
His outfit looks like it was thrown together hastily. He is wearing dark sweat pants and a t-shirt that looks too big for him.
Even though he is wearing baggy clothes and looks to be in his seventies he seems to be in surprisingly good shape.
Looking at his arms, he seems to have some crude tattoos that almost look like prison tattoos.
Who the hell is this dude?
His face falls and turns red in anger.
Obviously, that’s not the reaction that he was hoping for. “Looks like my son continues to be a right fucking cunt.”
“Your son?” I question.
If I can keep him talking then maybe I can distract him from the real reason that I’m here.
I still have no idea why I was lured here but I can take a guess and I would rather die than have this man touch me.
Something tells me that I’m not going to be as lucky as Maddy and have a sexy Blake run through the door to save me.
It’s up to me to get myself out of this situation.
Trying to look around the room discreetly for a weapon, my heart sinks when it comes up empty.
Apart from the furniture, there’s nothing else here.
Maybe I could break a leg off the table and stab him with it.
This dude may be old but I have a feeling he is stronger than he looks.
Dad has made me take countless self-defense classes but right now I’m not feeling so confident in my abilities.
I did surprisingly well against my instructor but he was paid to go easy on me.
He tilts his head slightly, “That’s right, my son. Mason.”
That evil grin is back and this time he gets the reaction he was hoping for.
My arms drop to my sides in shock and I’m sure my mouth is hanging wide open.
Mason.
That’s my dad’s name.
Putting two and two together, I ask, “Does that mean?”
“Yes, I’m your grandfather,” he holds his arms out wide like I should be impressed or run and hug him or something.
Fucking Dad.
I wish he had told me something about him this guy so I didn’t feel completely unprepared.
Maddy’s face runs through my mind and I really hope this isn’t another fucked up situation where my granddad tries to sell my body to the highest bidder in some weird form of revenge.
Did my parents not learn anything from Uncle Jayden and Aunty Ashley’s mistakes?
Lies aren’t good for anyone.
When I make it out of here, and I will make it out of here, I’m going to read him the fucking riot act.
“Would you like a quick history lesson?” he goads.
“Not really.” How can I trust anything this guy says?
Once when I was younger, I overheard Dad say that he was in prison which means that his solid build and crude tattoos make a lot more sense now but I have no idea how dangerous this man is.
I don’t even know why he was in prison in the first place.
Hopefully it was for something non-violent like fraud.
At his dark gaze, my body tenses and I become prepared to fight at any moment.
Is this why Dad was so insistent that Emily and I take self-defense classes? Was he expecting something like this to happen? Because if he was then some warning would have been nice.
I would have at least asked to take a karate class or something. Self-defense is all good but what happens if I need to go on the attack?
If I had some more skills then I probably could have taken him by surprise and gotten past him to the door.
“Do you want money or something?” Is this some kind of a weird kidnapping move? I’m sure if he’s been in prison for a long time then he must be trying to start over but there are better ways to do that than this.
This will just send him straight back to prison.
And how does Bentley fit into all of this?
Speaking of Bentley, I’m going to make him pay for this.
Fucking traitorous bastard.
Ryder was right not to trust him.
“Or something,” he looks my body up and down and it’s deeply disturbing.
I’m his granddaughter.
His own flesh and blood.
He shouldn’t be looking at me like that.
Waiting for him to say something else, I contemplate my options.
Wait for him to strike first or try to take him by surprise?
If I try and take him by surprise then I only have mere seconds to get out of here and he’s right in front of the door.
Stepping back slightly, I try to lure him away from the only exit.
He stares at my retreating form with a look of intrigue. “You seem a lot feistier than Eva and Jillian. I like it.”
It makes sense that he would know my mom but how does he know my grandma? “You knew my grandma?”
He laughs but even his laugh puts me on edge, it’s like a crazy person’s laughter. “Jillian and I go way back. In fact, your grandfather stole her from me.”
Again, I have no family history to back any of this up so I choose to ignore him but my plan is working, he’s stepping away from the door.
Never taking my eyes off him, I take another step backwards.
“The two of us should have gotten married and we had plans to run away together but she died before we could make our plans a reality.”
“What does that have to do with me?” I couldn’t care less about some ancient love triangle.
His eyes linger on my breasts, “Eva is the spitting image of Jillian, did you know that?”
I’ve seen pictures of her and there is a strong resemblance but there’s also a strong resemblance between them and Emily and I.
I want to point out that generally happens with families since we share a lot of the same DNA but I don’t think he would appreciate the sarcasm.
When I say nothing, he takes a step towards me and continues, “I almost had your mother once but just like Jillian, she was taken away from me.”
What the fuck does he mean had my mom?
My heart rate spikes at the suggestion and my situation becomes that much more dangerous.
This guy seems completely off his rocker.
I wouldn’t be surprised if he was locked up in some insane asylum rather than an actual prison.
His eyes narrow to slits and his fists are turning white from how hard he is clenching them. “Your piece of shit father fucked everything up for me but I have the perfect way of putting him in his place. His love for his family is his biggest downfall, it’s his greatest weakness and I’m going to take them all, piece by piece. Starting with you.”
“You’re going to kill me?” My palms become sweaty and I try to stop them from shaking but he keeps edging towards me which is distracting me.
I’m going to have to make my move soon but right now, my body seems stuck.
It’s frozen in fear and I don’t know how to get it moving again.
“Yes, but I’m going to have some fun first,” he reaches a hand up towards my face but I stumble backwards, out of his reach. His eyes darken in fury, “Don’t worry, after I’m done with you, I’m going to pay a visit to that pretty sister of yours.”
Emily?
No.
I can’t let that happen.
Emily’s too kind natured to fight someone like Douglas off.
Thank God he chose me to come after first, at least I have a slim chance at getting away.
If I get out of here alive, then I need to make sure she stays safe.
He grins at me darkly, “I’ll save your bitch mother for last.”
His fist flies out without warning and cracks against my left cheek with so much force that I’m thrown against the bathroom door.
Falling to the ground, I cradle my head in my hands and will my body to take action. Knowing that I need to make every second count, I fight through the pain and bring my leg up, kicking him as hard as I can in the balls.
He cries out in pain and grabs his crotch, almost instantly he collapses to his knees.
Jumping around him, I make a break for the door but I feel his hand wrap around my ankle which causes me to slam into the ground.
My chin smacks the carpet, smashing my teeth together and I taste blood.
Before I have the chance to stand up and make another run for it, he grabs hold of my hair. He yanks so hard that I can feel patches of it ripping out of my skull.
Bringing my hands up to grab his, I try to ease some of the pain but it’s no use, he’s too strong.
Dragging me along the ground to the bed, he pulls upwards and throws me roughly on the bed.
The pain is excruciating and my vision starts to blur but I will my body to cooperate.
Come on Olivia.
Fight.
I’ve landed on my stomach which is the worst possible position to be in.
Fighting through the haze, I spin around and lash out with my arms and legs, hoping to get in a few lucky shots.
Jumping onto the bed, his fists bear down against every part of my body he can reach and my own attacks don’t seem to be having any effect at all.
He seems to be under some sort of trance.
His eyes are nearly pure black and it’s like his soul has left him. That’s if he even had one to begin with.
Scratching at his face, I manage to draw blood across his cheekbone and catch a lucky break when my thumb finds its way into his eye socket.
With him momentarily distracted, I take the opportunity to jump off the bed.
My sights are set on the door when I feel his fist hit the back of my head and I see stars as I plummet to the ground.
I’m still trying to recover from the force of his blow when his boot connects with my back and I cry out in anguish.
The pain is unbearable.
My entire body is in pure fucking agony.
Adrenaline is the only thing that is keeping me conscious but I don’t know how long it will last.
My determination to escape is slowly being replaced by the realization that I will never leave this room alive.
He’s far too strong and my body is close to giving up.
It’s too weak to fight back anymore.
Grabbing me by the hair once again, he throws me against the wall and when I collapse on the ground completely breathless, he kicks me again, this time in the stomach.
I feel the force of his boot over and over again.
My stomach.
My arms.
My legs.
After a while it’s hard to determine where the blows are landing.
Pain radiates over every inch of my body.
This is it.
I’m about to die.
My vision is starting to blur and my breathing is becoming shallow.
Blood from my head wounds is dripping down into my eyes but when I feel his hands on my breasts, I get a second burst of energy.
If I’m going to die then I’m going to make him kill me before he has the chance to touch me.
I’ll fight until the last breath leaves my body.
Scratching at his face, I try to make contact with his eyes again.
I might not have a weapon but if I can blind him, it might buy me some time to get away.
As my fingers touch his face, he grabs my wrist and twists with so much force that I hear a crack.
I didn’t think it was possible, but the pain in my body intensifies and screams that sound foreign to my own ears, rip through my throat.
“That’s it bitch, you had enough yet? Ready to play nice?” He rips my shirt from my body and I lash out again with my legs but he only grabs them and starts ripping my jeans down my hips.
Reaching down, I manage to keep hold of my underwear but my strength is slowly dwindling.
I’m actually surprised that I haven’t passed out already.
My fingers are gripping my underwear with as much force as I can muster but it’s not enough.
He has the upper hand and he knows it.
I watch, lying helpless on the floor as he removes his own shirt.
Vomit pools in the back of my throat and for a moment, I wish that I would drown in it.
He leans over my body and places one meaty hand firmly around my throat.
His fingers tighten and my airway slowly starts to close. My own hands grab uselessly at the hand he has around my throat but it’s like my touch is as soft as feathers.
Nothing is able to break his grasp on me.
With each second that passes, I feel my life slowly draining away.
When he reaches for my bra with his free hand, I hear a loud crash.
Almost like wood splintering.
The deafening noise is followed by three loud bangs.
My vision is blurry but what looks like three holes appears in Douglas’ chest and his mouth opens in what looks like shock. Blood starts pouring from the holes, straight down his chest and onto my body.
Time seems to slow down.
My brain is foggy and I’m having trouble comprehending what I’m seeing.
His grip on my throat loosens and I pull in one big breath, then another and another until I feel some relief from the burning in my throat.
The feel of hot liquid pooling on my stomach registers in my mind and I desperately try to get away from the horrible feeling.
Douglas’ face has gone slack and his body starts swaying back and forth slowly.
One more bang rings out and this one sounds closer.
Much closer.
A loud ringing sound starts up in my ears and I close my eyes to block out the noise. When I open them again, I see that a hole has appeared on Douglas’ forehead.
Blood starts to spurt from that wound, same as the others. It drips down his face and pours into his own mouth but he doesn’t choke, his eyes have already rolled back into his head.
As his limp body starts to fall towards mine, I brace myself for the impact but it never comes.
A hand reaches out and grabs the body, throwing it to the side carelessly.
Next, I see a face hovering over mine.
A face so beautiful that I have trouble believing I’m really seeing it.
Is this it?
Am I dead?
Or have I started picturing his face to block out the pain.
His strong hands cup my face and his lips are moving but I can’t make anything out.
Tears are streaming down his cheeks.
The ringing stops and sound comes back to me so suddenly that it’s completely overwhelming and I close my eyes.
Blinking rapidly, I start to notice other people in uniform spilling into the room and everyone is shouting.
A bright light is shoved in my face and I can feel my body being moved.
His face disappears.
But then I hear his voice, it’s in my ear and it’s telling me that everything will be alright.
Feeling comforted by the sound of his voice, I let my body relax and my eyes close.
A few seconds later, I feel my body starting to shut down.
With the last ounce of energy I have left, I whisper one single word, “Ryder.”