AllFreeNovel
Share Us
My grandmother would be proud.
I missed her. Most days, I enjoyed my time alone. The majority of girls my age didn’t own a home like I did, and I was grateful for that, but there were a few times that I wished she was still here beside me, making her famous apple pies just for funsies in the middle of the summer because she knew it was my favorite. Sometimes, I watched our favorite show Gilmore Girls just because it reminded me of her when I was feeling lonely without her, like she was there with me even though she wasn’t.
As more time had gone on, it had become easier, but I never really stopped missing her. My phone alarm buzzed, reminding me that the pie I’d made was done in the oven. I tossed a few more seeds into place before I pushed myself up off the ground and made my way back into the house.
The aroma of baked apples and cinnamon greeted me as I opened the oven door. The pie looked good, its golden crust hinting at the delectable deliciousness within. However, as I pulled it out and set it on the kitchen counter, a subtle pang of nostalgia swept over me. It was a good pie, undoubtedly, but it wasn’t quite like my grandmother’s—something about the way she effortlessly worked her magic always added that extra touch of something special, and I hadn’t been able to get it quite right yet.
That didn’t mean that I wouldn’t keep trying.
Then a weird sound reached my ears, almost like a boot scuffing against the floor, and I put the pie down on the counter before I stilled, listening intently. My heart skipped a beat.
What if someone had found out I was here alone? I’d taken a few self-defense classes in the past, but I’d never thought I’d need to use them. Not out here in the middle of nowhere Pennsylvania.
I told myself that I was being crazy. It was probably just the house settling or some animal in the yard, which wasn’t outside the realm of strange things that had happened to me since my grandmother passed. Just a few months ago, a racoon had taken residence in the attic, and that had been wicked fun trying to get him out of there without losing an eye in the process.
As I stood there, trying to dismiss the unease creeping over me, another sound pierced through the air. A soft shuffle, like footsteps. My breath caught in my throat as I strained to listen. The creak of a floorboard followed, and a chill ran down my spine.
That wasn’t an animal. Someone was in the house.
I moved cautiously, pulling off my oven mitts and tiptoeing away from the sound, my eyes scanning the room for any signs of movement. Fear gripped me as my mind raced through scenarios of how to escape. I knew the layout of the house like the back of my hand, and I aimed for the back door.
Silently, I navigated through the hallway, my senses heightened to every creak and groan of the old floorboards. The adrenaline surged through my veins as I neared the back door, my footsteps quickening with each step. But just as I reached for the doorknob, a tall figure in a suit emerged just outside the door, blocking my path and my avenue of escape.
Shit.
This wasn’t good. Panic tightened my chest as I stumbled backwards. Maybe I could make it to the front door before he grabbed me, but even I knew the possibility of getting out of here without getting caught was quickly getting slimmer by the second.
His gaze met mine, a mix of authority and inscrutability, and I turned to run. The hope of escape fueled my sprint, my feet pounding against the creaky floor. I heard the back door squeak as it opened, and his footsteps behind me as he followed, his steps calm while my frantic ones echoed throughout the house.
As I neared the front door, my eyes widened in horror. Another man, equally imposing in a dark suit, stood waiting, blocking my path to freedom.
Desperation set in as I skidded to a stop, trapped between the two looming figures. The front door swung open with an eerie creak, revealing the ominous silhouette of several more men gathered on the threshold. In a heartbeat, half a dozen dark-suited figures streamed into the house, their presence filling the once-familiar space with an air of foreboding.
I felt a surge of helplessness, my breath catching in my throat, and I tried to remain brave.
“Who are you?” I exclaimed, taking a step back right into the man that had chased me through the house. In an instant, I tried to pull away, but his hands closed around my upper arms and held me in place. Several others moved towards me, and my breath hitched with my panicked nerves.
A wave of adrenaline surged through me, and I lashed out, kicking and punching with all the strength I could muster, but the sheer number of men rapidly overwhelmed me. Strong hands grabbed my limbs, quickly restraining my futile attempts to break free. The struggle intensified, my heart pounding in my ears as I tried to squirm free, but nothing I did granted me even an inch of freedom. It was a nightmare.
“Maci Williams.” One of them stepped forward, and I visibly flinched.
“What do you want?” I asked, my desperation quickly becoming clear. Were these men going to kill me? Rape me?
A wicked grin broke out all over his face as he appraised me like I was some treasure he’d just come across at an auction.
“You’re going to be very useful, I think,” he declared, and my blood ran cold. “Allow me to introduce myself. I’m Alexander Pappas, the heir to the Pappas crime family.”
I started, certainly not expecting something like that. For a moment, I was silent, trying to figure out if he was serious or not.
“What? Like something out of the movies?” I finally blurted out, my disbelief more than a little obvious.
“You’re Nikolaos Kaligaris’ goddaughter, aren’t you?”
I opened and closed my mouth, not knowing if I should answer, and I eventually settled on denial. I didn’t know why, it just felt right.
“I don’t know who you’re talking about,” I finally replied, and his grin grew at least two times its previous size.
“Take her, boys,” Alexander demanded, and all of a sudden, the hands gripping me tightened, and before I could do anything to stop it, one of them slipped a black hood over my head. Another one of them wrenched my arms behind my back and metal cuffs clicked into place.
