Page 34 of Snow Good to Lose
I can’t move.
I was covered, again. Tucked in tight. My head ached.
Caden continues walking toward me. I reach for him.
His expression stays the same. The sexy smirk I know so well.
My head throbbed; a loud bang jolts me.
I look back at Caden. He doesn’t stop. He keeps walking.
He keeps grinning.
I scream.
* * *
I satup with a jolt as another gunshot rang in my ear. I blinked and looked around. I was in a strange bedroom. I pushed the heavy duvet off of my body and sat up. My head pounded against my skull. I placed my bare feet on the rough tan carpet.
I stood but had to sit again as my legs had forgotten how to move.
I held on to the bedpost and stood again.I yanked at the green dress. It was too short. I blinked and shook my head.
I walked to an open window.
Off to the right, but in the distance, three men stood shooting skeet.
I was in a house. The section I was in curved around the back lawn. Two guards stood on either side of an open door. Another two guards patrolled the grounds with machine guns.
Several men in black pants and white shirts scurried in and out of the house and around the lawn carrying chairs, tables, and flowers. Two men decorated a makeshift gazebo with white and pink flowers and Christmas lights. Chairs were set up in eight rows with an aisle down the middle.
Round tables surrounded the rectangle-shaped pool.
A loud voice outside my door jolted me out of my head.
“I told you no one was supposed to hurt her.” A familiar voice made my heart race.
“She’s not hurt. She’s sleeping.”
“You fucking chloroformed her.” My stomach dropped. It was my father. The other voice I didn’t recognize.
“No, your instructions were to get your daughter and bring her back.” Someone pounded on the door before it opened.
I crossed my arms over my chest and leaned back against the wall. I wasn’t sure I would make it back to the bed.
“You’re up,” the other gentleman said. “See, she’s fine.”
“Sweetheart.” My father stepped into the room. He brushed what little of his hair back and smoothed down his shirt. “Are you okay?” He stepped toward me. He had a few more wrinkles around his eyes and had gained weight in the last two years.
“Where am I?” My throat squeaked.
“You’re in Mexico at Mr. Sinezilio’s estate.” My dad nodded and walked over to me. He reached out.
I stepped away and back over by the bed.
“What am I doing here?” I clutched the post and sat back down.
My father pushed his hands in his pockets and sighed.
