Page 66 of Hateful Union

The man smiles widely. “Excellent,” he cries. “I’ve got the right place.” He hands me the flowers and I reach out to take them, wanting to get them and return to the sanctuary of the apartment.

Just as the weight of the bouquet is transferred to me, something snaps around my wrist and I’m tugged towards the man. I catch movement from the corner of my eye and know that I’m fucked. God, who are these men?

I open my mouth to release the scream that’s been clawing at my throat, but before I’m able to, a hand closes around my mouth. The bouquet drops to the floor as the man at my back speaks. “You’re a dead woman, Raylee. You fucked over the family and for that you pay.”

Oh God, they’re here because of Dad.

Fear chokes me. I have to get out of this somehow, not just for me but for my unborn child. I wish Mal were here. I fight back the tears as the men start to pull me down the long and narrow corridor towards the stairs.

Shit. Shit. Shit. I internally chant as I try to figure a way out of this, but I can’t. My hands are tied together by what feels like metal handcuffs. There’s three men surrounding me. Any escape attempts will be futile, but I have to try. I can’t let them drag me out of here. I have to do something.

Lifting my foot, I kick forwards with all my might at the back of the man’s knee in front of me, at the same time I ram my elbow backwards into the guy whose hand is covering my mouth. Both shots connect and I’m released as they groan. I stumble forwards, throwing my hands out to try to stop the fall. I manage to catch myself before I land.

“Fucking bitch,” one of the men spit, his British accent heavy and lilted, I think he’s from Birmingham. He puts his foot onto my back and pushes down. I quickly shift so that I’m not pushed onto my bump but onto my side.

It’s then that I notice that all the men are standing around me, pissed off angry looks on their faces. “You’ll pay for that,” the Spanish man says, lifting his foot. His lips turned up into a snarl and his eyes filled with rage.

My breath catches as his foot comes down towards my face. I’m unable to move, all I can do is stare. The heel of his shoe connects with my nose, pain erupts as I hear crunching of bones. I cry out, blood seeping from my nose and into my mouth, the metallic taste making me gag.

He doesn’t stop there, he’s enraged and brings his foot down onto my face again, this time, he connects with my temple and it’s sweet darkness.

My eyelids fluttertrying to open, but the pain is excruciating. My face feels as though it’s on fire. Swallowing hurts, it’s as though I’ve swallowed nails and each time my throat constricts it’s like nails are clawing at the walls to my throat. I’m unable to breathe through my nose, the bastard that hit me broke it. My jaw is sore, but doesn’t feel broken.

I realise that my arms are above my head, the strain on my shoulders is considerable, it’s almost painful. I wiggle my hands and hear the clinking noise of metal against metal.

My entire body freezes. Where the hell am I?

Slowly, I open my eyes, but it’s no use, the room is in darkness and my breathing deepens. Oh God, not again. A whimper escapes me as I try to remain calm, but it’s no use. I struggle against my bindings and my feet move with the movement and it’s then that it clicks. I’m suspended above the ground. My feet are unable to touch the floor.

My tears fall down my face and I try harder to get out of the bindings, but all it does is have them chaff against my skin, bruising them.

“Mal,” I whisper, “please help us.” I send a prayer to heaven asking for help and guidance and just like the last time that I was taken, I’m all alone and this time, no one is here to help me.

I have no idea about the time and my eyes start to close and it’s not long before I’m falling asleep.

I’m awakened by noise, yelling, screaming, and laughter. I strain to hear what’s being said, but I do know that the noises are getting closer to where I am.

The door opens and I peer to look at it, but unlike the last time I was taken, there’s no light out there either. I have no idea where I am or who has taken me. Everything is pitch black, I’m unable to make out the things around me.

“You’ll have a nice family reunion,” a man sneers.

“Fuck you.”

I suck in a sharp breath at those words. I know that voice. I’ve heard it so much.

“Not my type, besides, you’re almost dead. Enjoy the time you have left.”

There’s movement and I hear two thuds, both followed by pained cries.

The man laughs, “Good luck, you’ll all be dead within a matter of days.” He slams the door, the sound of the key turning in the lock has my breath coming out in pants. God, I’m going to die here.

“Fuck,” Dad snarls.

“Dad?”

Utter, sweet relief washes through me at the sound of Bentley’s voice. I can’t help the cry that falls from my lips.

“Fuck,” they both snarl.

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