Page 6 of The Predator
He stares down at me, his thighs too close, his free hand reaching out as if he's not quite sure where he wants to touch me yet.
The voice on the other end of the line makes my blood run cold. "And she better stay that way until I arrive. We have business to discuss.”
My father.The police chief of Oakmount. The only man with more power than some of these rich assholes running the school and the upper classes.
Whispers of safety flutter hopefully in my mind. He's going to win. He always wins. When he sold me to pay his gambling debts, I thought I was free. Even belonging to someone else, I might have had a chance at escaping, but the chance is blown to pieces if he gives me to Yanov.
He'll chain me to the floor like a dog and never let me go.
I don't hear the rest of the conversation, thankfully; my brain is too worried about how the hell I’m going to get out of here. Unfortunately, the reprieve I get while he’s on the phone ends, and as soon as he’s finished talking he crouches in front of me again.
"Come here, Ely."
He scoots forward and wraps his arms around me, pressing his scratchy bristled face into my chest. I’m rigid as a board, trying not to breathe the smell of stale alcohol and sweat wafting off of him too deeply.It envelops me, though, and I shudder, trying not to puke.
"Ely. Ely. Ely. Ely." He says it over and over like a prayer. I cringe inwardly, hating him for making the name ugly again so soon after Sebastian made it his.
It feels like an eternity before he finally releases me. I curl away from him, into myself, wishing I could cover more of my body. I’m still only wearing Sebastian’s football shirt and a pair of panties. No amount of clothing will ever be enough to make me feel safe in his presence.
"I’m going to untie your hands, but you have to promise you’ll be a good girl. No funny business, Ely.” He glares at me, but doesn’t wait for me to respond. Leaning forward, he rips at the bindings. Once my hands are free, I slowly pull them forward and cradle them in my lap. There’s nothing else for me to do. I can’t move, not with him so close.
My only hope now is when he falls asleep…maybe I’ll be able to escape then? It’s a slim chance but one I have to take.
I try not to flinch as his hands skim up my thighs, nor when he pries them apart. A scream builds in my throat. His penetrating gaze feels like a weight crushing down on my chest. I force myself to look straight ahead, at the wall over his shoulder so I don’t do anything to get me killed. He’s a ticking time bomb. And when he explodes, everything and everyone in his path is destroyed.
"Look at how pretty you are."
Bile climbs up my throat, and I have to clamp my jaw shut to keep it down, to keep myself from gagging. I hate him so much. There’s no telling with Yanov what will happen next; all I know is nothing he says is an idle threat.
His hands climb higher and circle my waist. "Such a beautiful girl. I knew the moment I met you that you would be mine.”
Disgust sticks to my insides. I was only a child when my father introduced me to Yanov.
Without warning, he stands, and I shudder with fear as I squeeze my eyes closed.
He stalks behind me, circling me like prey, and I try my best to remain still, because drawing more attention to myself isstupid, but there’s nowhere else for him to look. Nothing else he finds as entertaining as terrorizing me.
His fingers skim over my shoulders, his touch haunting, a nightmare that never ends. It’s like he’s inspecting me, inspecting his next meal. I cast my gaze to the floor, afraid my facial expression might give away how fucked up I find this whole situation.
Is it too much to hope Sebastian will notice I'm gone and come for me? That he might save me? I shake my head, refusing to let hope bloom. No one has ever saved me before.
Why would they now?
I snap back to the present when something cold and hard presses against my skin. It takes me a second to recognize the metal of the knife as he drags it over my shoulder and skims up to my neck. Try as I may to control my fear, my body refuses to hold it all in, and I tremble uncontrollably when he trails the tip of the blade around the back of my neck and to the other side of my shoulder. The shoulder with his name carved in it, the one punctured with a bullet hole scar.
Phantom pain skates up my spine. I grit my teeth, knowing more will come.
What is he going to do? Mark me again?
I'm so tense my abs lock up, and my knees knock together.
"Oh look at you, Ely. I'm not going to hurt you." His voice is soft, soothing.
I know better than to fall for his lies.
He circles around to face me again. "Why do you think I'm going to hurt you? I didn’t work this hard to rescue you only to turn around and hurt you when I finally have you all to myself.”
There’s no right answer here so I stay quiet.