Page 92 of Something Borrowed

I look at it - then back at my father.

“Pick up the fucking phone.” He screams.

A guard moves closer to me, his gun looking threatening.

My father is beyond angry. He looks like he’s losing control.

Precious control.

There is no telling what he will do if he reaches that point.

I grab the phone, gripping it in my fingers and waiting to find out what I’m supposed to do with it.

“Your boyfriend is burning down my buildings. One by one. He’s taken two already. You are going to help me put an end to his rampage.”

I grin, unable to stop myself.

“My husband.” I correct him, walking on the broken glass of his shattered ego.

He takes in a sharp breath and flexes his jaw open and closed like a lion getting ready to devour his prey.

He nods towards the guard standing near me.

The man slings his gun over his shoulder and steps close to me.

The punch comes out of nowhere and while I am certain the guy can hit much harder than that - it knocks me to the point of nausea. I collapse to the floor gasping for air.

My hands press into the carpet where I sit on my knees blinking to clear my vision. The phone is lying on the ground next to me.

“Do you have any more smart ass comments or are you ready to do as you’re told?” My father asks, sneering down at me.

“What do you want?” I spit, thick threads of anxiety creeping beneath my skin.

“Call him. His number is on there. Put the phone on speaker and call him. No codes. No secret messages. You are going to tell him to stop.”

“He won’t listen to me. Why would he stop? He wants you to give me back to him. That’s the only thing that will make him stop.” I shake my head. His plan is stupid. It won’t work.

“He will stop because you are going to be very convincing, Verity.” My father says with a false sense of calm in his voice.

“How?” I ask, not understanding what he wants me to do.

“You are going to explain to him you never loved him. That it was just a bit of fun. You never cared about him at all and you’re bored with his obsession.”

“No.” I gasp in horror. “I can’t do that.”

The security guard grabs me around the throat and lifts me up into the air. My feet dangle free, kick back and forth. I gasp for breath but he’s holding me too tightly. My lungs are burning, begging for oxygen.

The world starts to spin and fade before he lets me go. I drop to the floor, landing hard and twisting my ankle.

Tears run down my cheeks.

My father has lost his mind.

He’s willing to kill me to get me to do what he wants.

“Dial.” He snaps.

I lean over and pick up the phone.

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