Page 32 of Bound in Debt
Monday, September 9
My Monday classes at Thronewood passed by in a blur. Not even Professor Moretti’s salty attitude could shake me out of the fog. Ellie was so worried she gave me a ride to Graham for the afternoon, not trusting me behind the wheel. Stepping into the kitchen, I was relieved to see the instructor had assigned doughs as the focus for the day.
Measuring out ingredients by weight to make bread is second nature, and kneading is therapeutic. Especially if you have excess aggression to work out.
By the time I was sliding into the back of an Uber to return to my dorm, I was feeling, well, not relaxed, but at least less tense.
Then my mother called to tell me my wedding is in a month.
A month.
Needless to say, I grabbed my workout bag when I got to the dorm and headed for the gym. I got on the treadmill and ran, pushing myself until I couldn’t possibly do another mile.
Sweat soaks through my pink tee and I’m a sopping mess. I just want to jump in the shower and sleep.
Neither the run nor a shower will solve my issues though.
I’m not sure what bullshit rush we’re in now, but I only have four weeks to get an exit plan together and figure out where I’m going to go.
Obviously, I’m going to have to cut off my whole family. What kind of parents promise their only child to an asshole who can’t keep his dick in his pants? What’s in it for them?
That’s the part I don’t understand.
I’m fully aware of my mother’s dislike for my educational goals, but this is the twenty-first century. Women get jobs, careers, and degrees all the time. Even the whole stay-at-home mom thing has shifted, with more daycare options and plenty of dads staying back with the kids.
And while that’s all fine and dandy, I’m not having any kids with Liam. I won’t take his last name. I won’t kiss him, let alone sleep with him, and I’m not going to be a pawn in this game.
I just don’t have a different plan.
Yet.
Ellie says we should just get our things together and run for Paris now, but she won’t get her trust fund for another six months. We’ll need money, but I don’t have the luxury of waiting for Ellie’s trust.
I don’t have anyone else I can count on. My aunt and uncle in California would probably rat me out the second my mother asked. All my friends are here, which means they’re too close to be an option. My parents have me in a noose and I can feel the rope tightening around my throat with each passing second.
Almost literally.
But that’s because when I reach up to pull at the collar of my shirt, there’s a thick arm already wrapped around it.
I’m yanked backward, almost falling to my ass as I’m gripped around the waist and dragged to the edge of the woods framing the campus. Opening my mouth to scream, I’m stopped by my attacker covering my mouth with his palm.
That’s when I start kicking.
I drop my weight, attempting to gain a bit of breathing space, but that’s when the bite of cold metal hits my temple. There’s a click and everything in me freezes.
This isn’t about outsmarting my attacker anymore, it’s about avoiding getting shot on school grounds. This is about survival.
“We’re going to talk, Miss Waldorf,” a male voice—my assailant—orders in a gruff and spine-tingling tone. “That’s it. And then you’ll be free to go.”
I bob my head in understanding as I’m led toward the thick line of trees, away from safety. With every step, my attacker puts more distance between us and the main path, reducing the odds that a student or staff member might see us and come to my aid.
As soon as we’re cloaked by the shadows of the trees, he spins my back into a trunk, keeping one hand on my shoulder. The bark scrapes at me through my thin clothing as my captor shows me his gun. It’s dark, and I can barely make out any of the man’s distinct features, but he’s at least half a foot taller than me and clearly not afraid to show me he means business.
“You’re engaged to Liam Moretti,” he states clearly. “Is that right?”
“Not…by choice. I don’t want?—”
“Shut up,” he snaps, causing my whole body to shiver. “Your boy owes my boss money. Six million to be exact. But, since he doesn’t want to pay up in a timely manner, we gotta move to his girl.”
