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He pushes me in the back toward the door and I stumble forward. I really wish I had something more appropriate on. I’m in a black, skimpy, tight dress and my tits are half hanging out. Two of the men grab my arms and drag me though the door and suddenly fear takes over and I fight to break free.
“Let me go,” I yell.
I get my arm loose and I punch one of the men in the face and we begin to violently struggle. The other man hits me again, and I turn and kick him as hard as I can in the groin. He doubles over and falls to the ground. The other two men grab me and, as hard as I try, I can’t seem to break loose. The push me farther into the room and that’s when I see her.
Oh dear God.
Tied to a chair with her hands behind her back, her eyes so swollen from being beaten that they are closed, she looks near death.
“What have you animals done to her?” I scream.
I run to her. “Annette. Annette are you okay?” I cry.
Her head is slouched and she is semi-conscious. She lifts her head slightly. “Stace,” she whimpers.
I bend and kiss her face so that they can’t hear me. “Stace is safe,” I whisper. “I’m here now, I’m going to help you.” I put my hand tenderly on her head. “I’m here to help you.”
I turn as if possessed by the devil. “Let her go!” I scream.
The gutless men all stand still as they watch me.
“Untie her now!” I scream. “It’s me that he wants. Tell him I’m here.”
The men all continue to stand still.
“Tell him!” I scream.
My father steps out from the shadows and my heart drops as the air leaves my lungs.
The little girl in me is terrified.
His eyes hold mine, and he steps toward me, wearing an expensive dark suit he is the epitome of evil. “Hello, Roshina,” he replies flatly, his voice is calm and collected.
I don’t answer as the fearful tears fill my eyes. There’s no air in here. I feel like I can’t breathe.
“I hate you. I hate you.”
He smiles as he stares at me and after a long pause he replies, “You are as charming as ever.”
I stare at him through bleary tear filled eyes. How could I possibly be half of this man?
“Where is he?” he asks calmly.
My blood runs cold. “He’s dead,” I murmur.
He smiles. “No, but he will be very soon.”
His words knock me. “What do you want?” I whisper.
“Something only you can give me.”
I stare at him.
He puts his hands behind his back and links his hands together and begins to pace. “I’m dying, Roshina.”
I frown.
“I have brain cancer.”
