Page 26 of A Princess, Stolen
“Come on, head up so your beloved daddy can see your face and recognize you!” the camphor man with the hoarse voice ordered. “Pan will take a nice picture of you. It’ll be really quick too.”
Pan—another name from Greek mythology. Since I didn’t want one of them to come closer and use force, I did what they asked.
“Good princess!” another man sneered, whom I had also never heard speak before, and strangely, I thought of Dad’s words again.Willa is a good child. Dreamy, absentminded, but easy to control.
There were a few clicks and I saw the brightness of the flash through the blindfold.
After that, everything was silent, and then another said, “Okay…that’s good…we got it,” as if this was a modeling shoot.
Footsteps moved away, but at least one was still standing near me, panting. “You!” Pan said, the accented man. “You have pretty face, but that not mean pretty heart. You be careful!”
Then he departed and I took a deep breath without relaxing. They could return at any time, torment me more, or do anything else they liked.She’s a hostage and she’ll be treated like it.
Time passed. I don’t know if it was minutes or hours. The worst thing was not being able to see. At home, I spent half the day painting. I needed my eyes to capture and reproduce reality, but now, there was only darkness. It seemed as if the sounds of my surroundings were running through me like watercolors.
I shifted my weight, unable to find a comfortable position to sit so that nothing hurt when footfalls approached again. A mist of fragrant herbs drifted over to me. Mint and moss, the person had obviously just showered. And here I sat, freezing, sweating, and shaking for my life!
“Good morning, princess.”
Mr. Gang Leader himself. Sure. He has to come back to savor his triumph.Since he had forbidden me to speak yesterday, I remained silent. Instead, I sniffed the air like a bunny. The scent of eggs and burgers mixed with the herbal aroma, and even though I was allergic to chicken egg white, I still loved that smell. My stomach immediately growled.
“This bacon burger tastes delicious. The bacon is juicy yet nice and crispy, and the meat is as tender as butter. Troy can really make a great burger.”
I heard him chewing loudly. It sounded as if he wanted to demonstrate to me how well he was doing unlike me. He was a real bastard; using the language of men. I would have foundcompletely different words, but I didn’t want to stoop to that level.
I turned my head in another direction and the door squeaked. This time, no key had been used, so it must have been unlocked. No wonder since I couldn’t escape in my condition anyway and we were in the middle of the Atlantic.
“So quiet today, eh? Or do you have nothing to say to me?” When I heard the man approaching, I slid along the wall to the corner. It was no use because a few seconds later, I felt his presence in front of me. Something touched my dress, probably his legs. I blinked frantically under my blindfold. The smell of bacon almost numbed me as did his proximity. Again, I swallowed against the tightness in my throat. I had so many questions.
“You said I shouldn’t talk,” I said at some point when I couldn’t stand the silence any longer. I sounded rough, not like myself.
He cleared his throat above me. “That was yesterday.” There was something guilty in his voice even though he said it roughly.
“The photos are for my dad, right? Have you contacted him?”
“That’s none of your business.”
“It…it is my business.”
“The less you know, the better for you.”
“Does he know I’m alive?” I asked quietly.
The man laughed. “You look pretty alive in the photos.”
Dad would have a heart attack if he saw me tied up and blindfolded in this hole. “My dad…he’ll pay right away.” Maybe I could shorten those three weeks somehow.
The man carried on eating, unmoved. “We’ll see if he meets all the demands,” he said after a while.
“You have several?”
“A few.”
Something dark was forming in my mind. I couldn’t imagine what those demands would be. I couldn’t think of anything except money. Maybe Dad needed to transfer money to several secret accounts, to false names or with forged papers. I didn’t know anything about these things, but a lot could go wrong. “And if he doesn’t? If he tries everything but it doesn’t work? What will you do to me then?” I held my breath in fear, which made his chewing seem even louder.
I heard the crispy bacon crack between his teeth and it felt like he was crunching my nerves.
“What do you think we’ll do to you then?” he asked after he had obviously swallowed.
