Stop panickin
g, Ophelia.
Calm down, Ophelia.
I see starbursts behind my closed eyelids. I focus on keeping my breaths steady and normal, but my muscles are rigid, my tendons standing out on edge. My head still swimming from Thomas’s blows.
A man walks over and places today’s newspaper in my lap to show the date. This really is a full-blown hostage situation. Out of all the things I thought I’d experience in my life; this was not on my radar.
“Now you’ll tell your father to stop. And that he must answer to our ultimatum immediately. Or he’ll never get the chance to meet his precious daughter,” Thomas commands cavalierly.
“What if he doesn’t care?” I propose, knowing all too well how possible that is. “Haven’t you already sent him similar threats and got nothing? He’s gone this long wanting nothing to do with me. Whatever he has against you seems to be more important to him than my life.”
“Oh, don’t be so cynical,” he mocks condescendingly. “Even the most detached father wouldn’t want to see certain things done to his baby girl. You see…I’ve put girls just like you in some pretty horrid conditions. There’s good money in it. I doubt he’d want you to vanish into that kind of life.”
I remember Liam’s warnings about what the Jameson Automobile Company was fronting through the use of his software. Underage girls on the black market in sex trafficking rings. All this time I’ve been afraid of dying. It never occurred to me that my potential fate could be much worse. Maybe Emmett’s sadistic sexual torture is just preparing me for what will happen if my father doesn’t come through and meet their demands.
I look to Emmett again, desperately. He watches blankly. I want him to stand up for me. To say or do anything to intervene, but he cowers in the corner. Not lifting a single finger in my defense. Now I worry for how involved he might be in his father’s business. Maybe he’s just as sick and guilty of the same crimes.
“What do I have to say?” I ask finally, my voice cracking as I realize I have no choice but to give in. His scare tactics are working. Mostly because I know he’s ruthless. Cold. Heartless. He doesn’t make idle threats.
“Speak from your heart, my dear,” he sneers. “I’m sure once we get started, you’ll feel inspired.” His menacing tone and grin frighten me even more as his men gather behind me.
I watch one of them press a button on the camera, causing a red light to flash. Thomas waves his hands through the air dramatically, like a maestro conducting an orchestra. His callous coldness is chilling. Enough to cause me to tear up in terror, but I hold back. Not giving them my tears is my last possible act of defiance. The only part of myself I can still hold onto.
“Dad,” I begin, my voice already wavering more than I’d like. Even saying the title, addressing him directly, feels foreign and wrong. “You have to do what they say,” I stammer, feeling at a loss for words. My mind is blank.
Still refusing to cry a single tear, one of Thomas’s men crouches down behind me with a pair of pliers in hand, squeezing my knuckles in their grip tighter and tighter. I hope the lack of blood flow to my hands dulls the pain, but I can feel the cold metal cutting into me intensely. I still don’t give in. My face winces in pain but I don’t shed a tear.
“Dad!” I cry out louder. “Please…I don’t know where you are or how far you’re willing to go with this. But these people aren’t fucking around,” my sentiment sparks a maniacal, taunting laugh from Thomas. “You have to stop coming after them. Respond to their messages and let them know you’ll stop. Please. They’ll…they’ll make sure I disappear forever if you don’t.” My throat tightens with even more building cries, threatening to forcibly erupt as I contemplate what could happen if this doesn’t work.
“Are you sure you have nothing else to add? Nothing else to inspire your father to help you?” Thomas beckons, like a parent to a toddler. His tone soft and inviting in a chilling way, completely mismatched to his intentions.
I know he is encouraging me to cry, but I stay strong. Shaking my head. Liam promised me my father had a plan. And that I shouldn’t feel so hopeless and powerless. It’s all I have to cling to for now. I just have to hope he was right.
Thomas motions for the recording to be stopped and then nods to Emmett. He comes over and unties me, forcing me to my feet. He restrains me by the arms once again as Thomas approaches, coming too close.
“It was lovely meeting you, dear Ophelia,” he groans with predatory eyes. “I’m sure we will meet again. Very soon. At least I hope it’s soon…for your sake.”
I want to spit in his face, but he hits harder than any of his younger Elite counterparts. I’m still weak, tired and panicked. I don’t think I can withstand another blow. So instead I bite my tongue and turn my head, wishing Emmett would just hurry up and take me away.
Once we are to the top of the stairs, my tears flow like rain. I’m completely unable to hold them back a second longer now that it’s just Emmett and I alone again.
“Thanks a lot,” I sob, my throat tight with anger. “You really had my back in there.”
“What do you want from me!?” he rumbles in a low, tired rage.
“Oh yeah…what could I possibly have wanted from you?” I fire back sarcastically. “What kind of guy lets his dad treat people that way?”
Suddenly I am thrown against the wall. Emmett’s hands are digging into my shoulders, shaking me violently.
“Do you get it now, Ophelia!?” he shrieks in a hushed tone. “If you think my father was terrible just then…imagine the kinds of things I’ve…” He chokes, unable to say another word.
I bite back everything building up inside, feeling a new wave of pity for him. But he quickly pushes me along, both of us desperate to be back inside the privacy and safety of his room.
“Finish your sentence,” I beg once we’re hidden away behind his locked door. “What kinds of things…” I’m afraid to ask, but I need to know. It’s his only chance at redemption. The possibility that he’s just an abused fucked up kid who is too damaged to know how to treat people.
But he refuses to answer. He won’t even look at me. He retreats back into his closed-off shell, staring despairingly out his window.