Page 44 of Oblivion

“Sit fucking still. Wouldn’t want you to end up with a bald spot, would we? I would calm you again, but I kinda like the fight you’ve got. More than what I expected you to have, if I’m being honest.” He chuckled. The kind that made my mouth dry and lungs clamp.

Red-hot desolation burned in my stomach and rose further with each snip of the scissors. Short hair began springing into place around my face. The blunt ends of each bastardized cut broke my heart into a thousand slivers.

Tears flooded my eyes. My hair was my identity. Ever since I was a little girl, it had been kept long. Now, my soul shattered further with each snip, until I was left with nothing more than a severed mess.

Tears streamed down my cheeks when Psycho Killer triumphantly held up my ponytail. “It’s long, huh?”

“Fuck you,” I spat as best I could from behind the tap.

He smirked and laid my severed hair on the nearby table, then reached for his phone. “Hold still, precious. Let’s take a pretty picture for your daddy.”

I bucked harder and screamed from behind the tape until my throat grew raw.

“Perfect,” he announced. “A little video is even better. Good show, Penelope. That’ll be sure to hit him right where it hurts.”

After focusing on his phone for a minute, he tucked it into his pocket, then set me in his sights.

“Now, into the bedroom with you.”

I squealed when the chair tipped back, and made it as hard as I could for Psycho Killer to drag me into the only bedroom in the suite.

“And no more screaming,” he warned, and shut the door with excessive calm as he left.

My heart sank. I was beaten and immobilized, unable to do a damn thing to save myself. Rivers of heavy tears fell after the shower turned on. I closed my eyes and lost myself in the sound of the shower spray beating against the wall separating the bedroom from the bathroom.

I’d never been so defeated. So helpless and defenseless to stop someone from mutilating my body. In the past, whenever I daydreamed about scenarios like this, I always found a way out of the captive situation. Overpower my captor to pull some heroic stunt to escape against the odds.

Reality, though, was sharp and contrasting, and the entire time the shower stayed on, I prayed a knight in shining armor would already be on his way to rescue me.

CHAPTERNINETEEN

Dante

Having formulated a plan before lunch, Makka and I pulled up on opposite sides of the street in front of the Prescott residence, and slipped from our vehicles.

We met in Paul and Cynthia’s driveway and prepped for a perimeter sweep before settling into overnight surveillance.

Back at the office, the guys were trawling through security footage and IP addresses, or visiting places of interest where Penny and the girls were last seen.

“You take right, Manbait, and I’ll go left.”

I frowned at the nickname, but agreed nonetheless. If he wanted left, he could have it.

We peeled off in separate directions, Makka disappearing around the side of the Prescott family home as I hooked right. A muttered curse hissed through my earpiece half a minute later.

“You knew I’d have to scale a fucking wall, didn’t you?”

I snickered. Fuck yeah, I knew. “Did you not study the aerial photo properly?”

“I studied it just fine, asshole. This must be new.”

Laughing under my breath, we carried out a thorough reconnaissance of the property, then met in the backyard.

“Clear,” Makka stated.

“Same.”

“Good to roll, man?”

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