Betrayed Read Online Free PDF

shot of scotch, downing it quickly. He had to go to Regan now and demand the money for his fiancée’s life.
    Sloshed with alcohol, he s taggered down to Regan’s room. His mind was fully focused on the blackmail speech that he had mentally prepared while slugging down the contents of the bottle. He slammed his fist across her door and waited. The door immediately opened and Regan stood there, her eyes dancing with joy. She wore a loose satin blue robe, and her hair was down and hung all around her pretty face.
    “Rick! You - oh my god - you’re drunk. Are you okay?” Concern swept over her face, and her forehead creased.
    “I help her. She was taken , and I couldn’t get money. I saw the photograph and decided I needed. You. To ask.” Disorganized words came tumbling out of his mouth, and the speech fell apart. 
    “I don’t understand . Rick, what’s going on? I’m worried about you. Can I help you in any way?” she asked holding him by his shoulders in case he lost his balance and fell. Rick tried to form the words again but when he opened his mouth, a flood of vomit spilt across the floor and on Regan’s robe. She let out a small scream and then a laugh.
    “I guess w e’re even now. Get in here. You need to sleep.” She guided him inside and made him sit on the bed. She poured a glass of water from the jug on the bedside table and held it to his lips. She got him to drink some and then pushed him down gently. His head hit the soft pillow, and he almost drifted to sleep. The little part of his brain that was groggily still active, felt her removing his sandals, tucking him well under the blanket and kissing his forehead. He smiled involuntarily, passed out and began to snore. Regan giggled and watched his face without the worry and uneasiness that had haunted him since she first saw him down at the bar. She felt her heart flutter and moan with love.

CHAPTER 4
     
    Numbness. That was all that was left in her. Every inch of her body seemed foreign, and she shuddered and writhed in pain, trying not to feel helpless. She concentrated on stirring and feeling her fingers but every little movement hurt. She lay balled up in the corner of the room with nothing but a thin blanket to save her from death. The air seemed to be filled with mist, and every ragged breath she managed to take - every puff of air she released - seemed to add on to the coldness she felt. She looked out to the snow packed window, an empty white canvas waiting for someone to fill it with life and colors. She waited for someone to bring life into her.
    Tracy was thrown into the basement twenty four hours ago. When she regained  consciousness, she was terrified and confused about what had happened. The last thing she remembered was seeing a man in a suit. When the entire episode finally clicked in her mind, she stood up in panic and ran towards the door. It was locked but she banged and screamed hoping someone, anyone would come to her rescue. When her palm burned and her throat gave way, she turned and looked around. The room was dimly lit by a bulb hanging from the ceiling. It was spacious but musty and smelled strongly of rust and dead rats. There was hardly any furniture around except for a spare table and a couple of cardboard boxes.
    She moved around in search of something to pry the door open. She looked through the boxes but they were empty then felt for any drawers in the table but found none. Her heart beating faster, she pushed the table against the wall, climbed on it and stood on her toes to get to the window but it was tightly shut with iron rods up the front. The lock inside was rusty and when she tried to give it a pull it broke and fell into her palm. Flinging it away, Tracy pressed her face to the window and looked through the glass. The large expanse of ground was at eye level with a sheet of snow over it and wisps of falling snow covered the already thick layer. She realized she was in a basement of a house in some lonely