Page 115 of Marcus: Sins of the Father

“I don’t think we can escape. Least not through the window,” I whisper, turning to Harley.

She nods and moves around the room.

I frown. “What are you doing?”

“Looking for a weapon,” she whispers over her shoulder.

She’s proving to be much more of a badass than I anticipated.

Squatting next to a wooden dresser, she fiddles with it. “The drawers are all empty, but there’s a loose screw from one of the handles.” She twists it out with her fingers and slides it into her back pocket.

I take in her face. Her cheek is swollen, and she has a small cut in the corner of her mouth from the fight we put up at Marcus’ place. I lift a hand and brush my thumb over her bruised brow.

She assesses my injuries as well. I’m sure I look a mess. Her eyes water, and I take her in my arms and stroke her back.

“Hey, it’s okay. They’ll figure it out, and then your father will come for you.”

“I know.” She sniffles. “It’s just… when I saw you motionless on the floor and blood all over your face. I thought, I thought…”

“I’m okay. I mean, my head hurts like a bitch, but you know the scalp always bleeds a ton.” There was an inch long gash on my head, but it had stopped bleeding, and I didn’t want her to worry. “It was really just a scratch, honey.”

She nods and wipes the tears.

“Now look.” I lift my chin toward the door. “You can’t let them see you cry. Okay?”

“You’re right.”

“And you can’t tell them who you are. This is what they did when they didn’t realize your importance. I don’t want to think what vengeful plans they’d have if they really knew.”

“I know.” She looks toward the door.

“But they’ll come for us.” I’m not sure if I’m saying it to reassure her or myself. “We’re going to have to do whatever we need to in order to stay alive until they get here. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

“Yes.” The word is barely a whisper and I see the realization dawn in her eyes. “I hope they get here fast.”

“Me too, sweetheart.” I squeeze her hand. “At least we’re together.”

***

Hours pass, and soon the sun is setting, painting the sky with pinks and golds. It would be beautiful if we weren’t in such a precarious situation.

Several bikes rode away about an hour ago, but I saw one man down below the window. I’m betting there’s at least one or two more still here.

I begin to relax, hoping we may be left alone until morning, when suddenly the doorknob turns.

I immediately recognize the man who steps inside. He’s the same one who stalked toward me in Marcus’ kitchen. His eyes lock on Harley, and he heads toward her.

I step into his path.

His eyes narrow. “I don’t give a shit which of you whores I move; I just know one of you is coming with me. You’ll do.”

With that, he grabs a fistful of my hair and yanks me out the door and down the hallway. I thrash, trying to free myself from the pain.

He opens the door to another room and shoves me to the floor. I gasp, but quickly gain my feet, knowing I may need to fight. Tears sting my eyes from the pain he inflicted.

“Aren’t you a hellcat?” He licks his lips, and his eyes drop to my cleavage, where my chest heaves.

He’s on me in a flash, moving toward me with lightning speed to take one of my breasts into his hand, squeezing tight until I cry out in pain.

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