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“Why would he want to claim me? I would’ve never known who he was. Who any of you were.”
“Because Mahalia signed her death warrant the moment she showed up at his door. Charles told her if she ever came back, or attempted to contact either one of us, it’d cost her her life. Neither he nor I had any indication as to how much information she had shared with you. So... in order to keep an eye on you, Charles had to gain custody of you following your mother’s fatal accident. And imagine my pleasant surprise when you show up, a nearly identical version of the woman who slipped through my clutches. It’s like the fates were granting me a second chance to make things right.”
“You’re a sick fuck,” I snap.
“You say that like it’s a bad thing.” His lips curve into a cruel smirk. “Don’t worry, Jasmine. After we get out to sea and I dump your backstabbing father into the Pacific, you and I will have some fun. For some reason, I get the feeling you like a little depravity in the bedroom. Lucky for you, I have plenty to go around.”
The yacht suddenly starts moving, and Preston’s eyes light up. “Oh, good. It looks like the festivities will be starting soon. If you’ll excuse me, I’m just going to go check on the captain and make sure he takes us far enough away from any prying eyes.” Preston nods to my father. “Make sure he doesn’t leave. Oh, who am I kidding? He’s not going anywhere in that condition.”
“Wake up!” I whisper-shout the second Preston’s laughter fades from outside the room. “If you have any paternal instincts deep down in that fucked up brain of yours, you’d wake up and untie me!”
I pull at my restraints with a frustrated growl. I keep trying and trying to yank my arms free until I’m panting from the exertion.
“Charles!” I try again, tears falling down my face. “Please get up! Don’t let Preston get away with this! If you don’t want to do it for me, do it for yourself. He’s going to kill you!”
Sperm Donor groans again. Finally, some acknowledgment! Charles rolls to his side, wheezing. He slowly peels one eye open—easier said than done when it’s so swollen—and locks in on me.
“Jasmine.” My father coughs as if speaking took some serious effort.
“Who did this to you? Preston?”
He gives a minute shake of his head. “Hired... muscle.”
Of course. Preston doesn’t like to get his own hands dirty.
“Can you move?” I keep my eye on the door, waiting for Preston to reappear at any moment. “Can you untie me?”
“Can... try... don’t... know... if... succeed.” He has another coughing fit.
“Shh! Keep it down.”
Charles army-crawls toward me with an agonizingly slow pace. Each time he moves, he makes this horrific sound that makes me think of an animal being tortured. He’s wheezing loudly, beads of sweat dripping down his face. I sit up as much as I can when he’s almost made his way over to the bed, scooting as far over as I can to make it easier for him to reach me. Right when he extends his arm, trying to use the bed for stability, the door opens.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” Preston’s back, with a gun pointed directly at my father.
I curse internally when Charles slumps face down in defeat. I was so close. I don’t know how far I could’ve gone since I have no clue how far offshore we are at this point, but I would’ve tried. I’d rather drown while attempting to flee than lie here and allow Preston to abuse me.
Preston tsks. “Oh, Jasmine. What am I going to do with you? It seems like you need a lesson in who you’re dealing with.” Before I get a chance to ask him what that is, he cocks the trigger and shoots.
I scream as blood soaks through the right leg of Charles’ slacks. Charles, however, doesn’t make a sound. I can still see the faint rise and fall of his back while he takes labored breaths, but he’s completely silent. He must’ve passed out.
“You’re a goddamn psycho!” I yank on the ropes as hard as I possibly can, trying to get free. I cry out when it feels like I’ve just about dislocated my shoulder.
Preston trains the gun on me. “Don’t make this more difficult than it needs to be.”
“Fuck you!”
His eyes flash with rage. “You little slut. I think I need to teach you some fucking respect.”
I pull at my restraints furiously as Preston gets closer and closer, but it’s no use. When he reaches the bed, he tucks the gun into the back waistband of his pants and climbs onto the mattress, jabbing his knee into my chest, knocking the breath out of me. I plant my feet on the bed, making a pathetic attempt at a bridge pose as he fumbles with the button on my jeans. He’s at the wrong angle for me to nail him in the balls, but that doesn’t stop me from trying.
“Hold still, you bitch!” he growls.
“Eat shit!” I counter.
I turn my head as his fist comes flying toward my face. Preston’s hand connects with my cheekbone, which hurts like a motherfucker, but at least it wasn’t my eye, I suppose. I’m stunned just long enough for him to unfasten my jeans and start pulling them over my hips.
“Get your nasty fucking hands off of me!”
