by Amo Jones
“What? What are you both doing here anyway?” I look to Jessica. “You call them?”
Jessica shakes her head. “No.”
I look back to both my parents. My mom’s eyebrows are pinched together in distress and my father’s eyes have drifted out to the floor to ceiling windows. The flicker of my gas fireplace that sits under the television illuminates the room in soft waves, and I exhale, dropping down onto the large couch. “Spit it out.”
My mom hands me her phone and I take it from her while keeping my eyes locked on hers. “I swear to God if he has hurt her…”
She closes her eyes and looks away from me as if she’s disappointed. When I look down to my phone, I understand why. There, staring straight back to me, are two completely lifeless grey colored eyes. Eyes I’m so familiar with. Blond hair is matted down on an oval face and with blood seeping through the strands of his hair.
“Shit.”
“Did she do it?”
“What?” I hand back her phone. “Why would you ask that?”
“Because,” my mom flicks through her phone again and then hands it back. I take it, narrowing my eyes at her and then looking back down to the photo that’s spread out on her phone. It’s a photo of Isa crying holding the weapon and looking at Justin’s body in horror.
Who the fuck took these fucking photos.
I throw the phone across the sofa and lean back in the sofa, running my index finger above my lip. I don’t give a fuck about their questions right now, right now, my sole focus is on finding Isa. I lean forward, burying my head into the palms of my hands while running my fingertips through my hair. I exhale. There’s no reason why Devon would hurt her unless I’m missing something. Why would he take her? He gives a fuck about her, even I know that. There’s no mistaking the way he looks at her, talks about her. I can see the adoration in his every word. I don’t think he’d hurt her—no.
But then again…
No, this has to do with me.
“Bryant!” Mom snaps at me in an attempt to gain my attention. I ignore her. I don’t care for their inquisitions right now.
“Bryant.” Jessica’s soft voice breaks through my hard shell, and my head snaps toward her involuntarily. It’s true, my little sister drives me crazy on the best days but there’s no one walking this earth that I care about nearly as much as I care about her.
“What?”
She steps toward me, bringing the palms of her hands to my face, her deep green eyes searching mine desperately. “Did she do this?”
I look back at her. “Yes—”
They all gasp, Jessica’s hands falling to the sides of her.
“But!” I all but roar, my temperament kicking up from not only their questions but now their sudden disdain of Isa. “There is more to the story than you even know, and as much as I’d love to get into it right now, my wife has been kidnapped, so if you’d excuse me…” I barge past Jessica and she steps backward, her hand still covering her mouth. Heading into the kitchen, I open the top cupboard, taking down a heavy bottle of whiskey and a glass. Twisting the cap off, I pour some into my glass and toss it back before placing it back on to the bench. Taking my phone out of my pocket, I slide through my contacts just as Brian walks in.
“Do you need to make some calls?”
I need to do a lot of things, and calling people Is not one of them.
19
Isa
“Devon…” I let out a confused whisper, just as we pull down a busy side street of NYC. “Please…” I plead with him, but I see it when he looks away from me. I see that there’s something else to Devon. Something confused and dark. Whatever he has planned to do with me, there’s no going back. Feeling betrayed is not for right now. My betrayal will have to wait. The car stops outside of a brick building and Devon finally looks at me. “I’m sorry, Isa. But you made this choice.”
“What does that even mean, Devon?” I glare at him while reaching for his hand in a sad attempt to bring out the Devon I know. The Devon I remember, because I don’t even recognize this person.
He looks right at me. “The minute you agreed to marry him, your life was over. As far as they know.”
I pull back my hand as if I touched fire. “What does that mean?” The car door swings open and a man dressed in a suit and dark glasses reaches in with a grin on his face. “How are we, kids? Isa? Come with me now.”
“Who the fuck are you?” I snap at the suited man.
“I’m your worst nightmare.”
“I doubt that,” I mutter, getting out of the car while yanking my arm out of his grip. “I’ve met my worst nightmare, and I call him my husband, who by the way, will be hunting you right now.”
His face drops. All cockiness eradicated from his features. “Get inside you little slut.” He looks over his shoulder quickly. I can almost smell his fear, or maybe that was the smell of his tail tucking between his legs. If that ever had a smell, it would be a stench to bathe in right now.
I follow him to the heavy steel door. It swings open with another man standing in front, waiting for us to enter. What these men don’t understand is that I’m trained for this. Being the president’s daughter, I have been trained on how to handle every and any situation, but mainly we’re trained how to handle a hostage situation. I know I have to remain calm and collected. Follow instructions, but there was always one rule that I could never be trained in—and that’s keeping my mouth shut.
We walk through the entryway and I pause, looking down the long dark hallway. He shoves me again from behind just as the door closes behind him.
“Keep walking until I say stop.”
Rolling my eyes because I’m well aware he can’t see me, I continue toward the end of the hallway, ignoring the chills that set off over my spine. I just have to survive. It smells like damp sewer in here which isn’t a good sign. Bryant would have called my dad and he will be searching for me. Hell, the best of the best will be searching for me. Just… stay alive and see what these people want.
We reach another steel door as the man that was following behind me comes in front, it swings open.
“Hey, sexy.” Brooke’s face came into view. Looking me up and down, she twirled her hair between her fingers. “You miss me? I hope so because I want to play.”
20
Bryant
“I have a team already looking for her.” I tug at my hair in frustration, leaning back into my chair and blazing up a smoke. It’s been hours now, and still nothing. Nada.
“Well, I’ll send out some codes too,” Isa’s father says through the voice box of my speakerphone. I lean forward in my leather chair, looking around my office as memories of the night before assault my brain. I made fucking love to her.
Fuck! The memories are going to fuck me up more than her presence ever did. I have to get her back.
“You don’t seem awfully stressed for a man who has just been told his daughter has been kidnapped.”
“Kidnapped is a strong word to use.”
My blood turns ice, my face to stone. “And what exactly does that mean?”
“It means that this is Isa. She has probably run off, but I will do my best to find her. Again.”
Shaking my head, I laugh. “She hasn’t run off. Devon took her. When was the last time she ran off, huh? When she was a kid?”
Silence. “Summer 2012.”
More silence. My smirk drops. That was the time I met her, it was that summer. The day itself isn’t as clear as I’d like it, but I remember her. I remember her wanting to get into trouble. The concert we had all attended in the paddock behind the tent had long since died down, but we watched her the entire time. I knew who she was and who her father was, and initially, we wanted to fuck with her a little. See how the man who was running for president’s daughter ticked. See what I needed to do to get her on my side when the time came. But that all turned to shit quite fast when she killed Justin.
“Huh,” I mutter. “That was when I met her.”
“I figured,” her father murmurs. “Look. I’m not saying that we should be worried, but considering the circumstances around the marriage too, I wouldn’t be surprised if she has run off.”
Leaning back in my chair, I crank my neck and close my eyes. “We were…good….”
“What?”
“We were… good. We were starting to get on and build a connection. I don’t think it’s that.”
More silence. All I can hear is the ticking of the old grandfather clock that is in the corner of my office. Fucking hate that thing. Stupid old piece of shit.
“I’ll send out some feelers. You keep doing your bit.” Hanging up the phone, I loosen my tie and toss it across the room.
Where the fuck is she.
21
Isa
Beep.
Beep.
Cold chills lash out over my flesh, and I inch over, ready to throw up as a deep throbbing begins inside my brain.
“Brooke!” A scream shredded out of me as I pressed myself up from the concrete floor.
“Ohhh, come on, Isa,” her seductive voice slithered from somewhere in the distance. “You know how much I like to play.”
“Stop.” I shook my head. “I don’t want to play.” I bang on my head, scrunching eyes closed. “I don’t want to play, I don’t want to play. Playing is for losers.”
There was a long pause, so I lifted my head slowly, attempting to clear my eyesight. I saw her fuzzy form drop to her knees beside me. “But I want to.” She leaned down, her lips touching mine softly. I squeezed my eyes shut and refuse to open them.
“No, Brooke. Don’t touch me.”
Her fingers wrapped around the back of my neck as she pulled my face into hers harder, until my lips cushioned against hers. Her tongue slipped inside my mouth but I bit down on it until the metallic sting of blood slipped down my throat.
She laughed, a psychotic giggle erupting from her chest. “Yes.” She slipped back, swiping the blood off her bottom lip and then pressed the tip of her finger to my mouth. “Taste it, Isa. Taste what you’ve done. You know how I like it.” Then she cranked her head, as I tried to keep my food down. She leaned in until her lips are brushing over my ear. “Do you love the taste of my blood?”
I knew what I needed to do in order for Brooke to leave me alone, but I wouldn’t be doing it today—or ever.
“No, Brooke. We’ve only ever done this when another guy was involved and when we were drugged up.”
She bent her head, a dark look flashing over her eyes. “Good thing I came organized then.” Something stabs into my thigh and I scream, clutching it tightly.
“Isa…” a voice breaks through my hazy confusion, but I can’t see anything. All my vision is met with is a murky mix of colors and a voice I don’t recognize.
“You see,” Brooke stood from the ground, “you weren’t supposed to marry anyone, Isa.” Her face came near mine but doubled. Her body actually fucking doubled, or maybe I saw triples.
I tilted my head slightly, and that’s when numbness took over. “What did you stab me with!” I yelled, or did I? I wasn’t sure. It felt like a yell, but then again I didn’t hear anything. Then just as I realized I’ve lost my hearing, a loud buzzing zips through my eardrums.
“Fuck!”
“Isa! Don’t let go!” another woman’s voice comes in, and who the fuck is that! Why can’t I see. Oh, this is a bad trip. What did Brooke drug me with.
Tossing and turning my head while fighting the blackness that’s seeped in and out, I tried to fight myself into staying awake. I have to stay awake, I must. Turning to face the door, I watched as a dark shadow entered, closing it behind himself. “You were supposed to be ours, Isa. We were supposed to have a baby together. You, me, and Brooke.”
Devon. What the fuck was he talking about? My stomach flipped upside down and my throat clenched. I must be dying.
“No…” I fought it, just as darkness sucked me in and everything went black.
Dark fog.
“Isa! Please. For me. Please!” That same woman. That same voice.
Pain.
My eyes opened slightly, catching Devon right there on top of me, sweat dripping off his face with his eyes wide on mine as he thrust inside of me. Deep. He kept thrusting deep and hard. “I.” Thrust. “Told.” Thrust. “You.” Double thrust. “Mine.” Slammed into me and tears prickled out the side of my eyes. His cock pulsed inside of me and I had to fight the bile that was rising in my throat, although I didn’t want to fight it. I wanted to spew all over his ugly fucking mug. How did I not know the Devon had this side to him? He hid it so well.
“My turn,” Brooke grinned, ripping Devon’s naked flesh off of my equally naked flesh.
“No!” I screamed, consciousness slowly seeped in. I could feel my muscles twitch as they awakened, but I didn’t want to let her know. If I made it too obvious that the drugs had worn off, she might’ve given me more. I’d need to play drugged still. That’d be the only way.
Devon stood to his feet, yanking up his jeans. “We will keep her here until I know that she’s pregnant.”
“Isa, baby, please, please. Shit. Shit!” That voice again, but before I can register, my mind goes into a downward spiral of warped flesh and bright colors.
Brooke ran the palm of her hand up my inner thigh, swiped at Devon’s leftover cum that had trickled out of me and slipped down my leg, and brought her finger to her mouth, sucking it clean off. There was no fighting it this time, I lurched over and gagged all the contents out of my belly.
“Gross,” Brooke muttered, but her hand went back to my inner thigh as she pressed the nub of her thumb against my clit. Ugly wet tears fell down my cheeks now. I wanted Bryant. I missed him and I needed him. I needed his arms wrapped around me and I needed his fucking stupid grin smiling at me from across the room. Brooke straddled my lap. I internally talked myself down because my anger had hit new highs. Rage. Pure rage was pounding through my body.
She started to grind herself on me and that’s when I took my chance. Launching my fist back, I pound it into her mouth.
“Yes! That’s it, Isa! You’ve got this. Fight it, girl!” I need to know who this woman is. But the spiral is back.
“Agh!” she screamed, flying off of me and falling back on her ass while swiping the saliva and blood from her lips. “You fucking bitch!” She charged toward me, her fist reared backward before punching me in the face. A crunch whipped around the silent cold room and my head snapped back from the impact. Warm liquid gushed from my nose, seeping down the front of my chin and over my naked chest.
“Brooke!” I wanted to fucking kill her. I wanted to watch as the life got sucked out of her eyes.
“Shut up!” she screamed, lifting her leg and booting me square in the face. My head snapped back and I fall backward. Throbbing numb pain starts to vibrate over the back of my head as everything started slipping in and out of consciousness again.
No. Fuck off. I am not going down like a little bitch.
“Tsk tsk, Isa…” she laughed, tilting her head back.
Beep.
Beep.
That fucking sound again.
“You thought you could escape me?” Brooke laughed as I struggled to keep my eyes open, the assault of a bright light booming in front of my eyes. I threw my arm up to shield from the assault. I reached for the crowbar that was beside me and got to my feet. Rearing it backward, I stabbed the sharp end of it through her chest.
“Fuck you!” I roared, with so much release of hate, I dropped to the floor. She clutched her chest and fell to her back. The sounds of her choking on her own blood like a sweet lullaby to my frantic thoughts.
“Isa!” I know that voice.
“Bryant?” I squint my eyes toward the light, but before I can make out the shape of whoever it is that’s there, Bryant comes running inside. “Don’t move!”
My eyelashes are flicking, everything coming back into view clearly.
“Bryant grip
s my arm while wrapping his suit jacket around my bare chest. “Get up, baby. Can you move?” I look around then back to Bryant and nod, standing tall on my feet. I swipe the tears off my face, eying a long crowbar that has just been tossed to the side in the corner of the room. I went straight toward it, picking up the rusted handle and swinging it over my shoulder before turning back toward Brooke.
She laughed, her head tilting back. “Oh what? You really think you can hit me with that thing? I can’t die, Isa.” Launching my elbow back, I grinned. “Yep.” Before slamming it across her head. She dropped to the ground as blood begins to ooze out of her head.
“Isa…” Bryant whispers into my hair, but I can’t respond because all of a sudden
Blackness seeps in and I drop to the ground.
22
“What do you mean?” Bryant? Is that him talking?
“I mean, it’s complicated…” That’s my dad—no doubt.
“How so? Explain. I have time.”
“It’s just, Isa is troubled.”
“I know she’s troubled!” Bryant’s voice kicks up a notch, and I flinch inwardly. “That’s what the fuck I find so sexy about her.”
“Okay, there’s a few things wrong with that statement.” Is that my sister? What the hell is she doing here. “What my father is trying to say, is that she’s a little more wild than the average girl. But I’m sure you already know that.”
Long pause, and then the mattress sinks under someone’s weight.
“Of course I know that,” Bryant mutters, before softly adding, “But she’s mine.”
My heart soars inside my chest at those words coming out of Bryant’s mouth. I’m his. Not too long ago, I was driving him crazy, now he’s jumping up and claiming me on the first go. Slowly, I feel my skin tingle and their talking becomes louder.
My eyes open. “Hey.” Pressing myself off the hospital bed, I rub the sleep from my eyes.
