Page 39 of The Villain's Captive (The Villain's Duet 1)

I stepped in front of Ellie, shielding her. My heart hammered, and I prayed the chair would hold.

“Elijah, you little fucking thief. I know you took money from me.”

“Did you?” Ellie whispered over my shoulder, but I shooshed her.

“I had two hundred-dollar bills in my pocket. Where is it?” This time he hammered against the door, pieces of wood cracking next to the hinges. “Elijah, I swear to God if you don’t give me my money back, I will beat your bony ass to a pulp.”

“Elijah,” Ellie whispered, “I’m scared.”

“No. It’s okay.”

“Did you take his money?”

“Of course not.” This time I was innocent. I didn’t take the fat pig’s money. Besides, I wasn’t that stupid to steal two hundred dollars. The times I did steal from him, I made sure I didn’t take too much, so he wouldn’t notice there was money missing.

“Open this goddamn door, boy.”

My heart was beating in my throat as I struggled to push down the fear.

“Elijah.” Ellie grabbed my arms and pressed her body flush against my back. “I’m scared.”

“Get under the bed.” I grabbed her wrist and forced her to the ground. “Stay there. Do not come out. Understand?”

She nodded frantically as tears welled up in her eyes, her face pale with fear. God, I hated it, seeing her so damn scared.

I shot to my feet as a loud crack sounded, the door breaking in half as it hit the floor.

Roland rushed in, his face red and eyes wild, glaring at me from across the room. “You better give me my money back, boy.”

“I didn’t take your money.” I inched back.

“Liar. I had two hundred dollars in my pocket this morning, and now it’s gone.”

“I didn’t take it!”

“You little shit.” He launched at me, but I ducked out of the way, and he slammed into my desk, my lamp falling and shattering on the floor.

“I swear, it wasn’t me,” I yelled at him and glanced down to make sure Ellie was still hidden.

“What is going on here?” My mom walked in, looking worse than shit with one eye swollen shut, her skin blotched and hair a mess.

“Your piece of shit son stole from me, that’s what’s going on.”

Mom glared at me, yet she could hardly stand. “Is that true?”

“No! I didn’t steal anything.”

“You fucking liar!” Roland grabbed the stapler that stood on the desk and threw it in my direction. I ducked, and it hit the closet door. “I caught him with his hand in my pockets this morning. That’s what earned him that fucking bruised face. But seems like I didn’t beat you hard enough.”

It was an impulse, an instinct when I glanced at my mom, hoping she’d say something now that she knew her boyfriend beat me. But she remained unmoved, an empty vessel of festering flesh.

Roland looked down toward the bed, and my heart stopped. Ellie.

“Well, well, well. What do we have here?”

I darted toward him when he crouched, pulling Ellie from under the bed by her ankle. “Leave her alone!”

He reached out and grabbed me by my throat while jerking Ellie to her feet. “If you didn’t steal from me, then it has to be this little shit.”

---