Page 68 of Innocence
I understood now why Angie wanted to nut-punch some people.
“He wants to see you.”
Byhe, I assumed he meant my captor. Aka Enzo.
“Maybe I don’t want to see him.” I did, but that was only so I could give him a piece of my mind. “I’d hate to interrupt his leisure time.”
Hope you’re having fun with Ciara ‘bitchface’ McGee.
Jerk-face let out a loud huff and took a step towards me. “You can walk, or I can carry you.”
My gaze narrowed. I could bite him? Give him another scar on the right side. Or, I could bite my captor instead? Yeah, I liked that idea better.
Taking my time, I stood up and carefully smoothed down the royal blue dress I was wearing. Wouldn’t want to look sloppy when I tore a strip out of him.
The rest of my luxurious wardrobe was tossed throughout the room. Why? Why not? Plus, I was bored. Screw Lorenzo and his fancy clothes.
I did like this dress though. The material was flowy and softer than the crushed velvet sweater I had as a kid. I wore that thing everywhere. Mom got sick of it and threw it out.
Jerk-face waved his hand, ushering me out the door. After which I was led down the hall to the wide staircase at the end. It was hard not to gawk.
I hadn’t been in this part of the house. If that was even the right word for it. I’d seen hotels smaller than this place.
There was artwork and stuff down here as well, but what really caught my eye was a large chandelier hanging by what I assumed to be the front doors.
Tiny crystal leaves of ivy wound around a bundle of rosebuds. All lit up by tiny twinkling lights. It was utterly breathtaking.
Jerk-face must not have appreciated it, because he yanked on my arm, snarling, “Come on.”
“Don’t touch me.” I slapped his hand off my elbow. “I don’t know where you’ve been.”
Honestly, I had no idea where my attitude came from. Maybe I’d finally had enough? I mean, between Ralph, the kids at school, and now this, I was bound to break sooner or later.
The fact that I wasn’t a babbling idiot, whispering incoherent sentences, was nothing short of a miracle.
We stopped in front of a set of double doors, where I was introduced to Jerk-Face goon two. And by introduced, I mean number one nodded at number two, who grunted in response.
“Wow. That’s some stellar Cro-Magnon speech you have going on there.”
Jerk-face two cocked a brow at me, while Jerk-face one sighed and glanced over his shoulder.
“Please do me a favor.”
Couldn’t wait to hear this.
“Keep that attitude up when we go in there.” He pushed open the doors. “I can’t wait to see what he does.”
Was that supposed to scare me? Cause it didn’t. With my head held high, I strutted in behind him. Bound and determined that, this time, I would be the one to put someone in their place.
That lasted all of point two seconds.
The first person I saw in the huge dining room was Bitchface McGee. She was standing by one wall, between two black sconces, with a bottle of wine held in her evil claws.
I narrowed my gaze on her for a second before looking around.
Across the room, against another wall, stood a man in a suit next to a door. The kitchen, I assumed, based on the aroma coming from that direction.
In the middle of the room, on the dark wooden floor, was a large table full of food. But it was the four men seated around it that caused all my courage to drop down in the pit of my stomach, faster than a freefalling parachutist.
