Page 133 of Chokehold
“What are you talking about? Cole has a girlfriend.”
“No, I don’t,” I grit out painfully, and the words make my body vibrate with even more pain, so I close my mouth and screw my eyes shut.
“Stop talking. You’re only hurting yourself. I said we can sort this out. All of it,” she says. “You can fix whatever is going on between you and Allie. She’ll forgive you for whatever you’ve done.”
Dad springs up from his seat and marches toward us, gripping a flashlight now. “He’s fucking gay, Rachel. Did you not just hear what I said about your new, piece-of-shit husband’s son?”
Her brows draw in. “No. Blaise and Cole can’t stand one another.” Glancing down, she looks at me questioningly. “What is he talking about?”
I roll my eyes, tensing as I try to shift to the side to put distance between us since she’s still kneeling beside me and stroking my hair. “He’s not lying.”
She frowns deeper. “I’m not following.”
“It doesn’t matter. Cole is done with the Rowle family, and so are you.” Grabbing Mom by the hair, he yanks her to her feet. The urge to stand and attack him is strong, but the pain and weakness is worse. He drags her to the table and forces her to bend over it.
I try to get up. I fuckingtry, feeling the stitches my mom did ripping as I force myself to sit upright the moment he unzips his pants.
Seeing stars and feeling blood piss out of my wound and down my leg, I put one foot in front of the other, dropping to aknee with a wince and getting back up again. Vomit rises in my throat. My fingers curl around a pipe, but the dragging of the metal makes my dad freeze his movements before he can enter her, my mom’s cries hitting every wall around us, begging him to stop.
He turns to me, tucking himself away and letting out a laugh. “What are you going to do with that?”
Everything around me goes in and out of focus, my lungs seizing as sweat coats my face, unable to put my foot forward for one more step. I gulp down a lump, swaying back and forth, the pipe slipping from my fingers before I fall forward.
Dad catches me, still laughing. “I think it’s time to tie you up.” He steps to the side, dragging my limp body with him, even though my mind screams for me to fight.
He sets me down on the ground, holding me up against a metal beam built into the structure of the warehouse. My arms are pulled behind me, and I hear the click before the cold metal tightens around both of my wrists.
“That’ll keep you out of my way until it’s time to leave.” He slaps my cheek. “I’m proud of you for wanting to protect your mother, though. Really fucking proud. Maybe you’re not weak, after all.”
Mom cries as Dad pulls her toward me. “Sit behind him,” he orders.
He cuffs her to the beam too, our cuffs crossing over, and I can feel the warmth of her body, even though there’s a metal beam between us. I’m mentally being comforted by my mother – my mind is tricking me into a dream where I’m safe, under the bed, hidden, and my mom is protecting me like she should have when I was a kid.
His footfalls grow silent as he goes outside. I hear him talking to someone on the phone—forty-five minutes untilsomeone arrives. Something about a boat to somewhere, new identifications too.
“Cole didn’t have his phone. I saw it lying on the ground when I took him.” There’s silence, and then he adds, “No, I smashed her phone up and threw it in the quarry.”
My eyes focus on the sign near the entrance. Allertons Factory. I’ve heard of it before, but I can’t remember where.
I roll my head to the side. “Mom?” I think it says it audibly—maybe I mouthed the word?
“Yeah?”
“Can you…reach my back pocket?”
Her fingers move around, and she freezes when she feels the burner phone my dad must’ve missed. She pulls it out, but it drops. We both stop breathing, my eyes lifting to the entrance, even though my sight is shit and I can barely see, I know he didn’t hear it.
I reach for the phone, groaning as I try to turn on my side, my eyes straining to look as I type out a message to Blaise. I drop the phone twice, and the pain that rocks through me every time I move is indescribable.
“What the fuck have you got there?” Dad bellows, and my fingers go faster as I hear his heavy boots, just like it used to be when I was younger.
I have no idea if it sends before he grabs it and tramples all over it. He crushes it to pieces, launching it off the wall before marching out of the warehouse entrance and tossing it down the well.
“You think you’re fucking smart?” he grits, and my hearing vanishes as he smashes his boot into the side of my face, making my mom scream at him to leave me alone.
I smirk up at him, spitting blood at his feet. “F-fuck you.”
“If you do one more thing to step out of line, I’ll take it out on your mother.” My smile drops, and he grins, shaking his head as he walks away. “Fucking weak-ass pussy.”
