??s credit card on file, so if you’ll just sign here…”
I considered trying on a few of the pieces just to make Steve uncomfortable, but it wasn’t worth it. The real reaction I wanted would happen at home—when all of the boxes got dropped by the front door and my father saw them. He’d have to wonder what kind of slut his little princess had turned into—and whether or not it was his fault.
Tormenting him had become my only real source of pleasure because he couldn’t say a damn thing to me anymore. All he could do was internalize that anger—until the trial—until my testimony put the two men that had been accused of killing his business partner in prison.
But they didn’t, and I was the only one who knew who really pulled the trigger that night—the only one that anyone would believe at least.
“Are we heading back home now?” Steve followed me as I exited the store.
“No, I’ve got some more shopping to do.” I looked over my shoulder. “Keep up if you can.”
I planned to do a lot of damage before I returned home—I guess you could call it retail therapy. It took my mind off of things and I certainly needed to think about something besides the trial. If I let my mind wander—or took the fake smile off my lips—I would see Rourke’s eyes again—that look of pain when he stared betrayal in the face. It haunted me enough when I was able to close my eyes and the nightmares had a grip on my soul. I certainly couldn’t face it in the daylight—so I wore my fake smile, pretended to be happy, and torment those around me just so I could be surrounded by other miserable people.
Two hours later
“Miss Anabelle!” Steve pounded on the dressing room door. “Miss Anabelle, we have to go—now!”
“We’ll go when I’m ready.” I glared at the door and saw the handle start to turn. “I’m not dressed!”
“There’s more to worry about than me seeing your tits.” He threw the door open and I had to grab a dress to cover myself. “Rourke and Brody just escaped—we have to go—now!”
“Oh fuck.” I grabbed the dress I wore into the store and started putting it on as fast as possible. “How?”
“Something happened—there was a power surge and several prisoners escaped. I don’t really know the details, but we need to get back to Prescott Manor immediately.” He grabbed my arm as soon as I had the straps over my shoulders.
Steve was no longer the submissive dog that followed me around. He jerked and dragged me across the store as other shoppers looked at us with a look of confusion on their faces. My heart started pounding hard in my chest. If Rourke escaped, there was only one place he was headed—wherever I was. I would be a lot safer at Prescott Manor than downtown in the shopping district, but Rourke had nothing to lose—and Brody was a monster. They would burn Chicago to the ground to find me.
“Drive!” Steve shoved me into the car and didn’t even wait until I was seated before he yelled at the driver.
“Yes sir!” The tires screeched as the car pulled away from the curb—and Steve pulled his gun from the holster underneath his jacket.
I’m in real danger. This isn’t my father being overly cautious. I gave them every reason in the world to want me dead—and now they’re coming for me.
Rourke and Brody weren’t the kind of men that ran from the danger—they confronted it head-on. They solved problems with violence because it was all they knew. And I was a very real problem for both of them. Not only did I tell the police that I saw them kill my father’s business partner, but I was the one who lured them to the crime scene, to begin with. I set them up to take the fall for my father—all because I was supposed to put family first. That was my father’s motto—the Prescott family motto that had been hanging on the wall in our living room since I was a little girl. I just never realized what it meant until I was forced to make the hardest decision of my life.
“Only a few more miles. Hit the gas.” Steve leaned forward and tapped the driver on the shoulder. “At least we’re out of the city.”
Steve’s eyes were on the driver. The driver’s eyes were on the road. My eyes were wide open with fear—wide open enough to see the black car speeding towards us as we approached the intersection—wide open enough to know it wasn’t going to stop. I tried to yell, but my words got choked in my throat—by the time they came out, it was too late. The car hit us so hard at that the windshield and both of the windows on the driver side shattered. Our car spun—then it skidded off the road—it went down an embankment—and bounced before it finally came to a stop.
“Steve!” My bodyguard was slumped over, and I saw blood oozing from a wound on his scalp. “Fuck!”
The driver was laying against the steering wheel—groaning, but still alive. Steve was unconscious, and I shook him several times with no response. My head was throbbing—my vision was blurred. I could smell fumes and smoke was starting to come through the vents. I tried to push the door next to me open, but it wouldn’t budge. I immediately started crawling across Steve to get to the passenger side door, but before my hand reached the handle, it was jerked open.
“Hello, princess.” A rough voice—full of hate—it was Rourke.
“No! Leave me alone!” I scurried back, kicking at him as he reached into the backseat.
A calloused hand grabbed my ankle and jerked me out of the car so fast that I landed in the dirt. I looked up to see Rourke’s menacing stare—but it wasn’t the only one I saw. Brody was right there beside him, all of the hate that the world could muster resonating from his eyes. They grabbed my arms and yanked me to my feet. I tried to fight—tried to kick—claw—anything—but then I felt something hard hit the back of my skull. My vision blurred for a second—then the only thing I saw was darkness.
Where am I?
My hands are tied.
My feet too.
I’m on the ground—it feels like wood.
“Help!” I tried to sit up and felt my head start to throb. “Someone, help me!”