Page 4 of His to Keep
“Change of plan. We’ll take yours.” His thin lips rose in an undefeated grin. He pulled a key fob from his jeans and pushed the unlock button, causing orange hazard lights to blink a few yards ahead. “A Lexus. Well, I am surprised. Living in squalor yet driving a fancy car.”
Clearly, he wasn’t aware that she had been with Marcus, the owner of Verto Veneri. No one was aware of their blissful time together, other than her best friend Amanda and Marcus’s chef, Freddy.
She bit her tongue, choosing not to engage with the creep who gripped her elbow before shoving her into the passenger seat and slamming the door shut. He jogged around the car bonnet with a pleased look on his smarmy face.
With her hands still bound, she was unable to put on her seat belt. Carl leant over her from the driver’s side, his stale smoky breath filled her nostrils the closer he got.
He pulled the belt across her breasts, skimming them slowly with his knuckles. The corners of his mouth twitched, and he sucked in through gritted teeth.
“We would’ve had a good night together in that hotel suite. I know a few tricks that would make you scream.”
Acid rose to the back of her throat, and the tiniest hairs on her skin stood to attention. He inched forward, stuffing his nose into her hair and inhaling loudly.
She held her breath, straining her neck away from him. Her blood began to boil as anger grew in the pit of her belly like a furious beast. The effect of the sedative had mostly worn off and jittery adrenaline jumped inside her muscles.
“Fuck you, asshole!” she spat, venom dripping off each word.
Carl leant back into his seat. His brown eyes narrowed. Running a hand over his sable hair he turned to face her. “Why are you being such a bitch, Lana?”
Baring clenched teeth, she pulled in her brows and hissed, “I’ll never let you touch me, Carl. Especially like this…”
His gaze dropped, his lips quivered, and without warning Carl lunged forward and punched her in the face. Her head jolted to the side, and pain rocketed through her skull, splintering into fragments of red hot agony.
“Stop being such a bitch, or I’ll dump you in the River Lagan,” he barked, opening and contracting his fingers after the hard punch. “Don’t make me hurt you. I’m a nice guy.”
Lana’s head spun, and darkness shadowed the daylight. Pain blazed across her cheek and she knew the warmth that rolled down her chin was blood oozing from her nose. The only way to survive was to stay quiet. She would bide her time until he released her hands and then wait for an opportunity to fight for her life.
She held no qualms about bludgeoning him on the head with a heavy object. As scared as she was, Lana knew she would do whatever it took to survive.
Leaning her head sideways, she watched the outside world as he pulled into the oncoming traffic and drove away from Jordanstown, towards Belfast city.
Her thoughts drifted to Marcus, his sexy lips and strong arms that had held her tightly the night before. They had sex a few times, both consumed with need, and then something had changed.
His eyes had flashed with a different emotion, and his lust had become tender. She had hoped to find out if the connection was real, but Carl was robbing her of the chance.
Her heart sank, considering her imminent fate. Lana regretted withholding her plan to help Rory and hated the fact a girl was dead by his hands. Her stomach twisted.
She cursed herself for sneaking away from Marcus. If only she had stayed at Marcus’s and waited for him to return. Now her future hung in the balance and she needed to find a way to escape.
After a short, silent drive across the city, Carl pulled onto a wide, tree-lined avenue. The red bricked mansions were picture perfect, nestled amidst mature trees and shrubs.
It was a delightfully tranquil street, far removed from the hustle and bustle of the city center. No one would ever imagine that an occupant was hiding monstrous deeds.
He pulled up outside an electric steel gate. Once he waved a card from his wallet in front of a silver box on the stone wall, the gate began to open slowly.
Trailing ivy covered the front of the impressive property, draping the sash windows and clinging to the porch roof. The freshly painted red door brightened the dreariness of the overcast late afternoon.
It felt cooler in the city, a subtle drop in climate that made her shiver. Or, perhaps she felt a chill because she was tired, sore and scared. Carl’s smug face suddenly appeared at the passenger window.
Lost in her thoughts, she hadn’t noticed him park up or even exit the car. He flung open the door, leant over and unclipped her seat belt, all the while humming an unrecognisable tune. He latched onto her arm and heaved her out.
“I’ve rented this place.” He beamed. “What do you think?”
“Nice,” she muttered, keeping her eyes low.
A brick wall screened them from the neighbours’ view. No one could see her entering the property, but at least she had a fair idea of her whereabouts, should the opportunity to escape present itself.
“I’m really sorry, Lana. You can’t stay in the house.” Pushing her forward, he opened the front door. “You’re staying in the garage. The owners installed a loo, so you’ll be okay.” He added with a half shrug.
