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He struggles against his captors when he sees me. “Let her go!”
They shove him into a metal chair and unbind his hands, only to tie them to the arms of the chair with more handcuffs.
“What do you want?” Luke asks, but nobody answers.
Minutes pass in silence. The men lined at the wall stand at parade rest, staring straight ahead. Only the man who took off our hoods moves. Glancing at his phone every few seconds.
“What is this, Mark?” I whisper.
“They’re waiting for the boss,” he says.
“Liv, are you hurt?” my dad calls.
“No,” I say, my voice wavering. Blood creeps further and further down his shoulder and he blinks hard.
“Can someone please help him? He’s losing too much blood,” I say. I attempt to make eye contact with our captors, but they ignore me.
The same door opens, and Barbara enters with her head held high. She’s not in handcuffs, but she’s surrounded by four men. My dad sees her, and I expect him to react like he did when he saw me, but his hands flex and he glares.
She stops right in front of him. Mark leans into me, providing support as the horror of what’s happening sinks in.
“How could you?” my dad says, his voice cracks as his eyes water.
She turns to me and it’s as if I’m looking at a stranger. The oxygen leaves my body as my stomach drops.No. Not again.
“Mom?” My voice waivers.
“You’re going to be ok, honey. He won’t hurt you,” she says.
“Who won’t hurt me?”
Our captors straighten and stand at attention, the stomp of their boots echoing around the space as an older handsome man enters, escorted by a heavily armed entourage. Dread replaces the forced calm as my stomach swirls. He’s tall, lean, and wears a bespoke metallic blue suit that shimmers in the light. He walks with confidence and an air of superiority. Silver speckles his dark hair, so I assume he’s around my parent’s age. Barbara straightens and faces him, a smile blooming on her face.
The man faces Luke. “Mr. Reilly. At last, we meet. I apologize for the theatrics, but we had to take precautions. I assure you that with your cooperation, you and your friends will leave here unscathed.” His voice is smooth and deep, almost calming, but there’s a dangerous edge under his tone that has me on alert.
“Who are you?” Luke asks, his tone much more matter of fact.
“How rude of me,” the man says, extending his hand to Luke. “I’m Mr. Davenport.” One of the goons he brought unclasps Luke’s handcuffs and hauls him to his feet. Luke looks over at us, then at Mr. Davenport, ignoring the man’s hand.
“What do you want?”
Mr. Davenport ignores the slight and drops his hand with a smile. “Straight to the point. I’ve always liked that about you.” He flicks his wrist, and they set another chair next to Dad’s. They grab Mark and drag him into it, securing his hands to the arms.
Mr. Davenport turns to me and my entire body revolts. “Ms. Sutton. You are a hard woman to kill.”
“Don’t speak to her. You want something, then you pretend she doesn’t exist,” Luke says.
Mr. Davenport puts his palm to his chest and his full lips form into a sarcastic pout. “Your love is something to aspire to.” Two burly men grab Luke as Mr. Davenport saunters over to me and crouches so we’re at eye level.
He pulls my matted hair off my face and brushes it behind my shoulders. His gaze roams over me as he pulls a red silk handkerchief from his suit and uses it to wipe my face.
“So beautiful. Just like your mother,” he whispers.
He runs a knuckle down my face, and I spit into his. “Don’t touch me.”
An unpleasant grin stretches his lips, and he uses the handkerchief to wipe my spit off his cheek. He tosses it aside and one goon picks it up off the floor.
He stares at me for a moment, then backhands me across the face. Stars fill my vision. There’s a scuffle as shouts from Mark, Luke, and my dad fill the air.
