heard about in the news.
“Tell me ,” he continued in a calm, modulated voice, “ do you think your father would start taking our demands a little more seriously if we send you home to him...piece by piece?”
She visibly shuddered. It took all of the courage she could muster to keep her head held high and her back ramrod straight in the steel-spined, aristocratic fashion of her upbringing. “I believe that you are capable of all kinds of terrible things. You are going to do what you want, regardless of what my father does. And if you’re still wondering, he’s not going to give you anything. Not. One. Red. Cent.” This time when she jerked her hands away from him he let her go.
Her pulse kicked up a notch, throbbing rapidly in her neck. Her heart skittered in her chest like a caged bird attempting to gain flight. She felt like she was going to simultaneously throw up and pass out.
Hazel Eyes only laughed at her, taking in her obvious discomfort. His cryptic smile still planted firmly on his face. He wasn’t the least bit cowed by the ferocity in her voice. He was enjoying himself, completely at ease with the situation. It was as if he were playing a twisted game of chess with her, and he was already thinking five moves ahead. He coolly motioned to his minion standing in the corner. The other man dutifully walked forward, placing a pair of large, serrated kitchen shears into his boss’s outstretched hands.
“Let’s hope for your sake that that’s not true. I, for one, have a little more faith in your father than you do. And I am confident that he will have a change of heart once his mailbox starts becoming littered with your fingers and toes. Now, let’s start with your hair first, shall we? Before we move on to other parts that won’t grow back.”
With his threat hanging low in the air he moved closer to her, resembling a lion circling his prey. With scissors in tow he roughly grabbed a fistful of her hair. She knew that he wanted her to be afraid of him. And as much as she tried to be brave, to deny him the satisfaction of seeing her fear, she couldn’t help but let out a soft whimper. She swallowed, inhaling a panicked breath, when he moved closer. The sharp metal blades touched against her throat, the cold steel pressing against her veins.
Arching her back toward the chair, Lena shifted her body away from Hazel Eyes as much as she could. Clutching her bound hands to her chest, she placed her bare feet firmly on the ground. Then pushing as hard as she could, she tried her best to move away from the bastard, not caring if she upended her chair in the process.
He only grabbed her tighter, scraping the chair across the floor as he pulled her back toward him.
“What do you want from me?” she gasped out in between shaky breaths, her voice culminating in a shrill pitch.
Another hollow smile. “For the moment, just your hair.”
She stilled herself as she felt the shears sink into her hair, heard the soft snip-snips as her golden locks fell to the cement floor below. It was such a small thing, the cutting of her hair. In the grand scheme of things, she understood that losing some or even all of her hair wasn’t a big deal. But it still had its intended effect—to humiliate her.
Hazel Eyes wanted her to know that right now, he could do anything to her and she wouldn’t be able to stop him. And he was correct. He probably outweighed her by a hundred pounds. Not to mention, she was outnumbered by at least ten other men. She’d grown up in such a privileged life that there’d never been a moment in her childhood where she’d felt defenseless against other people. Never had there been a time where she’d felt this powerless.
Suddenly, the door slammed open with a jarring bang. Whirling her head, she saw two more of the terrorists dragging in one of the male hostages. The older man stood there slumped between his two captors.
“Ah, yes. You have been such a delight, Ms. Westlake. I’d almost
Rebecca Hamilton, Conner Kressley