TWENTY-THREE

BELLA

It had been hours since I’d been tied up but I still couldn’t believe it was really happening. I’d been in the van for just a couple of minutes when it stopped and the back door opened. Two men climbed in, both of them in police uniform. “You got her then?” the one nearest to me asked, ignoring me.

The driver twisted his neck round. “Piece of piss. Wasn’t even a reinforced door.”

“Can’t believe we didn’t think of it before.”

“Yeah, well, it’s sorted now, isn’t it?”

“What?” I asked. “What are you talking about?”

“That’s enough out of you,” the second man said, wrapping a piece of cloth round my head, gagging me before I could say anything else. I reached up to pull it from my mouth but him and his companion were already on me, grabbing my hands and tying them together. I looked wildly at them as they climbed through to the front seats of the van.

I twisted my arm towards my seatbelt, trying to reach it to undo it. I was just about to press down when one of the men in the front looked back and noticed me. “I wouldn’t if I were you,” he said, holding up a gun. “I’d hate to have to shoot you.”

My arms slumped down again, my eyes fixed on the gun barrel. I’d never seen a gun before. The sight of it disgusted and terrified me in equal measure. How could I have been so naive? I saw a man in a police uniform and didn’t think for one second to question it. I just believed him. Jack wasn’t a liar. There were people after me. And now, they’d got me. He said he’d keep me safe if I stayed with him. What had I done instead? Fallen for the first person who turned up like they were a knight in shining armour.

A detective in police uniform. Randomly breaking into the house out of nowhere. I was an idiot. I’d gone from kidnapped to kidnapped with barely a chance to catch my breath in between. I couldn’t believe it was happening.

I was still in disbelief even when I was unloaded inside some kind of warehouse. A chair was in the middle of the floor like some kind of surreal art installation. I was dumped on the chair, my feet tied to it, all the time the gun was trained on me as if the man holding it was daring me to try and escape.

“That should stop you,” the van driver said, standing up and leering down at me, his hand going to my shoulder. “You aren’t going anywhere now?” He grinned, his face reptilian, devoid of warmth. His hand went to the strap of my dress, sliding it slowly downwards as I tried to twist away from him.

“Perks of the job,” he said to his companions before sliding the other strap down, exposing my breasts to his view. The other two men laughed behind him, all of them staring at me.

“Might as well make friends while we’re waiting,” he said, his hand sliding down to squeeze my breast. He tugged at it, tweaking the nipple until I screamed into the gag, trying to turn my body away from him, hating the touch of him on my body. “Wonder what’s lower down,” he asked, sliding his hand down my stomach as I shrieked into the gag.

I blinked in fear and then he wasn’t next to me anymore. There was a thudding sound and then he was on the ground. I looked up, trying to work out what had happened. Someone new had appeared, standing over him with his fist clenched. “What did I tell you?” he said, looking down at the prostrated man who was rubbing his jaw. “Well, what did I tell you?”

“God damn,” the man on the floor said. “You might have knocked my teeth out.”

“You don’t fucking touch her.” The man next to me turned to the other two. “The three of you go watch for him. I want to know the minute he arrives. Go.”

The three men walked away and I was left alone with him. He reached down to my dress, pulling it back up to my shoulders. “I apologise on behalf of my employees,” he said. “You have nothing else to fear. This will all be over soon and then you can go home. Oh, would you mind doing me a favour?” He reached into his jacket pocket, pulling out a phone and pressing buttons on it. “Would you mind screaming for me?”

I frowned at him as he loosened the gag. “Please, let me go,” I said but he just shook his head.

“Not quite yet. Would you mind screaming for me?”

“What?”

“Scream, into the mic there. It would be a big help.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Oh, fine.” Out of nowhere a knife appeared, running down the length of my arm, drawing blood as it dug into my skin. I screamed in pain. “That’ll do perfectly,” he said, pressing a button on his phone, the sound of my scream echoing back to me from the speaker.

I felt tears on my cheek, the pain of the cut on my arm enough to make me faint. “Why did you do that?” I asked, my chest heaving.

“Need it for a phone call I’m going to make soon. You’d be surprised how difficult it is to get someone to scream on cue. Oh don’t cry. It’ll be over soon. Once I’ve had a chat with the man who gave me this.”

He lifted his shirt to reveal a hideously scarred chest, the skin pockmarked and ridged, reddened and sore looking. I winced at the sight.

“Would you believe I received this in this very warehouse?” he asked, leaning towards me. “Look at it! Look at what your father did to me.”

“I’m sorry,” I muttered. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Of course you don’t. You were just a child when it happened. But I’m sure he can explain when he gets here.”

“What do you mean? My father’s dead.”

“Yes, I thought that too. But my employer has informed me otherwise. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have some calls to make. Don’t go anywhere will you?”