Page 79 of Light It Up Red
“Where the fuck is Liliana?” I growl.
“She’s where she belongs. With me. Don’t worry, you’ll see her again. But it’ll be too late by then. She’ll be mine in every way possible.”
I look to Mr. Valentino. His jaw is set tight, his glare hyperfocused as he listens in while tapping at his phone. “Keep him talking,” one of Lili’s uncles whispers into my ear.
“She’ll never be yours and we both know that. I’m going to fucking tear you limb from limb when I find you. I can’t wait to watch you fucking bleed,” I grunt.
“Those are big words from a no-good hockey player.” The asshole laughs. “Give it your best shot, boy. You ain’t got nothing I’m afraid of.”
“Tell me where you are and I’ll gladly show you firsthand,” I hiss.
Mr. Valentino looks up from his phone. “You might not be afraid of him, Lou. But mark my words… when I get my hands on you, you’re going to beg for fucking mercy. And I promise you, you won’t get it,” he says in an eerily calm voice.
The phone disconnects. My fingers clench around it.
Mr. Valentino glances at my hands before looking back up at me. “We got it. Let’s go.”
Chapter Thirty-Five
Ibring my hand up to my head and rub, in an attempt to ease the throbbing. It doesn’t work. Was I drinking? What the hell did I do to deserve this kind of torture?
I rack my brain, trying to figure out what I did. The last thing I can remember is being at the arena, having made the decision to go and talk to Travis.
My eyes squeeze shut before I slowly open them, only to regret it immediately when the blinding light hits me.
“Argh, god!” I groan, roll over, and look towards the door. Except it’s not there. I stare at the blank wall as I push myself up.
Where the hell am I?
My blurry vision begins to focus on things. Things I don’t recognize. Like the white marble dresser that has nothing sitting atop of it. Or the single pink bedroom chair tucked into the corner of the room. I climb off the bed, my body aching with each step I make towards the door, which is not where I remember it being in the rental house.
My palm wraps around the handle. I turn it slowly and pull. Nothing happens. The door doesn’t budge. I tug harder, and then harder again. What the fuck? My heart is racing in my chest as I take a step back and spin around. There has to be another way out of here. I cannot be locked inside this room. I can’t be.
When I spot a second door, I grab the knob and turn, sending up a little prayer when it pushes open. I curse under my breath when I realize it’s a bathroom.
Shit. Think, Lili. Think, damn it.
What is it that Dad always says?
We were trained for situations like this. And yet, as the panic sets in, as my heart continues to race and sweat coats my forehead, I can’t for the life of me remember what I’m supposed to do. I know what I need to do. And that’s get out of this room. I look around the bathroom and step over to the window. It’s older, the kind you should be able to slide up and down, but there’s no movement no matter how much I try to push it open.
I pivot back towards the bedroom, shove the sheer curtains out of the way, and try each of the windows there. They’re locked and there’s no key in sight. When I peer through the glass, I don’t see anything except for trees and more trees. Like I was dropped in the middle of the woods somewhere.
Where the fuck am I?
I suck in a steadying breath as I sink to my knees on the carpet. I just need to calm down and think.
Find a weapon, anything you can use to inflict damage.
My father’s words flit through my mind. I need to find something I can use to protect myself. There has to be something, anything. I push to my feet and walk over to the dresser first, pulling open drawer after drawer. They’re all empty. I try the bedside table next. I bend down and look under it while feeling around.
“Well, that would have been too fucking easy,” I murmur to myself. We usually have a gun or knife secured to the underside of furniture like this at home. The sound of keys jingling has me straightening up and spinning around. The door opens, and I blink at the figure filling the doorway. “What’s going on? Why am I here?”
“You’re here because you were a very naughty girl, Liliana. You went and slutted yourself out to that hockey player when you were always meant to be mine,” Lou Monroe sneers at me.
I shake my head. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Lou. You need to let me out.” I glance behind him. At the door.
“Oh, I will, once you learn your place. But right now, I have a surprise for you, sweetheart. I’ll be right back. Don’t you go anywhere.” He laughs as he slams the door closed again.
