by Mia Hoddell
Instantly Sam shut up, turning his head in the direction of the sound but Cora was quicker. Retreating behind the wall and out of sight, she held her breath and counted to twenty. When she had reached sixteen, she heard the voices resume. However, not wanting to be caught and interrupt any information Sam might divulge, Cora remained hidden and just listened.
“How is it not worth it? We have a life time of support and will never have to worry about money again. Also, how will Cora be more dangerous after Rogan has her? She will be under his thumb and hardly allowed out.”
“I know that—I can’t explain—I just—”
Cora had heard enough. “So that’s what you sold me out for was it? Money? I could have guessed as much. Did you not realise I would have helped you any way I could, had you asked? You didn’t need to stab me in the back,” she sneered as she rounded the corner, stepping into sight.
“Money was an added benefit, we just didn’t want to be around you and we definitely don’t want to be in your debt,” Jaz spat while turning her head to face Cora. Sam on the other hand was avoiding all eye contact and was more interested in the people walking by.
“So you thought you’d ruin my life? You’re a bigger bitch than I first thought and if you have learnt anything about me in the last year, make sure it’s this: I don’t lose, I will never be owned and those who stab me in the back always get what they deserve.”
Before waiting for a reply Cora turned on her heels, moving to leave when another orange slip of paper taped to the wall caught her eye. On it, in the familiar blue scribble, was her name and at the sight Cora sighed in exasperation. The game was getting old quickly.
Not wasting any time, Cora flipped open the paper, her eyes scanning the words. Mentally groaning at the message, it was what she had come to expect—that didn’t mean she liked it though.
If you want to avoid Rogan’s clutches you had better get a move on. The men who have been following you all day are beginning to make their move. Don’t corner yourself in a classroom.
The advice it stated was blatantly obvious to Cora, she had already discarded the thought of attending her lesson by the time she had read the second word. Turning back in the direction of Sam and Jaz, she decided that would be the safest route. She hoped the men had all followed her out of the canteen and were therefore coming from behind her. However, her worst fear was confirmed when she turned in the opposite direction. Stepping out from around the corner, a man dressed in a black hoodie, jeans, and sneakers blocked her path. His body easily filled the corridor and even though she had done it once before, Cora didn’t want to go through a fight again if she didn’t have to.
Surprisingly, the man hadn’t charged her yet, instead he stood with his arms folded creating an intimidating presence as he locked eyes with her.
The reason for his lack of movement became clear when Cora went to turn and flee in the opposite direction. Two more men were walking towards her, closing the gap and surrounding her.
Shit, Cora thought, her head turning frantically from either side as she weighed her options. It wasn’t a hard decision really; it was either take on two men twice her size, or one. She knew which one she would stand more chance of escaping with, so turning away from the guys who were approaching her she ran towards the lone man.
Sam and Jaz had slipped conveniently into the nearest classroom, so giving her a free run she charged at the man, throwing a punch in his direction as soon as she was close enough.
He caught her hand easily, deflecting the blow and causing Cora to try again. She may have had seven years of martial arts training but up against someone as big as him it was proving to be useless.
As her next blow fell, he caught her wrist again, shortly followed by the other. Transferring them both into one hand he spun her around, locking his grip tightly around her and pressing her back into his chest as he secured her effortlessly.
Cora pulled, tugging hard to try and free her wrists. Every move she thought to use failed to hit its mark as the guy countered every attack. She didn’t land one hit. It was futile. There was no way she could beat the man in a fair fight, not with his backup approaching quickly.
Thinking about fighting fair gave her an idea.
“I’m going to be sick.” Mustering up every acting skill she could dream of Cora started to make retching noises, her body convulsing slightly as she tried to make it believable.
Just like she assumed, the guy released his hold slightly for a second and the approaching men faltered, not wanting her to throw up on them. In doing so he gave Cora the much needed room to move.
Without a moment’s hesitation she brought up her right leg, bringing it down along the man’s shin with every ounce of force she could summon. She felt the bone splinter under the force of her kick as the man collapsed, releasing Cora instantly as he hit the floor to clutch at his leg.
Cora didn’t have to be told twice, taking the opportunity she had created she turned and ran.
The men charged after her, jumping their fallen colleague and picking up speed as they flew down the corridor.
Cora took the next right, left, left, right, heading towards the nearest exit. Her hair was flowing behind her, the odd strand whipping her in the face as she misjudged the last corner and had to push off the wall in front of her.
She could hear the laboured breathing and heavy footfalls of the men as they chased after her. Cora’s heart felt like it was going to explode from her chest, not only with exertion but from fear too.
She couldn’t get caught.
She wouldn’t allow herself to get caught.
Slamming her hands down on the metal release bar to open the door, she stumbled outside, glancing behind her for a second as she kept moving.
Turning back to face the way she was going, Cora collided with something. Her head smashed into the hard structure and her body bounced back, the impact forcing her to the floor.
Shaking her head out, she pushed off her hands, readying to stand up and start running again but something—or rather someone—was blocking her way.
The figure stood silhouetted in front of the sun, making his face unrecognisable in the glaring light. A hand appeared in front of her face offering to help her up and, in her shaken state, Cora grabbed it without thinking.
Clasping hold of her, the man’s reasonably relaxed grip transformed instantly, turning to steel. He held her wrist tightly, creating an unbreakable cuff around her arm that she couldn’t fight off.
The man ignored her screaming, spinning her around and immobilising her against his body. Her arm was pulled up behind her back, threatening to snap if she made even the slightest move in the wrong direction. He had also cleverly trapped his legs around hers, making it impossible for her to pull the stunt she had on the guy in the corridor. In fact she couldn’t move a muscle.
Even the slightest resistance she put up added to the strain put on her arm, causing her to groan in pain. There was nothing she could do—the man had successfully caught her and he couldn’t be happier.
“Aren’t you pleased to see me, Cora? Or should I say Sarah?”
The voice sounded familiar but her mind couldn’t place who it was.
“Who are you?” she moaned, trying to find a position that lessened the pain.
“I’m hurt and offended you don’t remember me. I thought the memory would be ingrained into your mind.” He didn’t sound insulted, but rather like he was getting immense pleasure from her situation as his head lowered closer to her ear.
“How the hell am I meant to know who you are when I can’t see you?” Cora tried to turn her head to face the man but she only got halfway round. Catching a glimpse of dark brunette hair, he gave a tug on her arm, causing her to cry out and raise up on to her toes as she tried to lessen the pressure.
Changing his position, he locked both of Cora’s wrists inside one of his strong hands before flicking her around as if she were no more than a child. He kept the pressure strong, making
sure he was out of reach of any kicks while giving her a good look at him.
“Hello Cora,” he smiled evilly, clearly enjoying her trauma.
“You asshole! Let me go!” Cora struggled against his grip, lashing out with kicks as she tried to free her arms. Nothing worked though, bent in two she felt like a ball dangling on a string. He had her and both of them knew it.
“Sorry, can’t do that and you know it. The boss wants your ability bad, Cora. Bad enough that he was willing to send me to retrieve you. I think he’s going to be pleasantly surprised when he finds out you’re Sarah.”
“I’m not a pet Rogan can call on to come running and I’m definitely not his property. I owe him nothing and I owe you nothing,” she spat, panting heavily as she calmed her movements.
“Not yet anyway,” he mumbled, smirking at the scowl she threw him.
God Cora hated that face and nothing she had done seemed to have made the slightest difference to his looks.
“Screw you, Nick. This isn’t your fight, let me go,” Cora slowed her words down into a low, threatening tone. It wasn’t like she could do anything though and he knew it. Hell, it was what was making him so confident.
“Not my fight? How did you come to that conclusion? You made it my fight when you sold me, Cora. This is your fault not mine, and you only have yourself to blame!” Nick roared, his grip tightening to a new painful intensity.
“I did not sell you. I cut a deal with Rogan and you were collateral damage. I couldn’t help it.”
Even Cora flinched at her words. What she had done to Nick was awful, but it was a necessity if she was going to survive.
“You signed my life away. You ruined my life by forcing me into a god-damned contract that has no loop holes. Not only that, but then you had the audacity to attack me when you escaped Rogan’s mansion last time. That is not collateral damage!”
He didn’t realise he was shaking her fragile body until she let out another low groan.
“You weren’t meant to be a part of the deal. I couldn’t help it. I tried to get you out of it, but there was no way. It was me or you.”
“Don’t bullshit me. You know there was a way out. I did nothing to you but be there and you sold me out, just like your friends have done to you.” His words cut Cora like a knife, slitting her deep.
“You knew too much…you knew my secret…you weren’t meant to survive.” Cora muttered the last line, her jaw tight with anger as she finally admitted the truth she had kept bottled up. He wasn’t meant to hear it, but he did.
“What did you just say?” He was shaking her once more, anger flowing out of him as he was finally enlightened as to why Cora had betrayed him.
“You weren’t meant to survive. You shouldn’t have passed the first test Rogan puts his men through. You weren’t meant to come back. I was meant to be safe.”
“Well unluckily for you I manned up. Not only did I pass every test Rogan threw at me but I worked my way up. I’m now his second in command. How’s that for irony?”
“Screw you,” Cora spat, tired of the conversation.
“You wish. For now though, I think I’ll return the favour you so kindly granted me all those years ago.”
“Let me go, Nick, for old time’s sake. I thought we were friends?” It was a lousy defence and Cora knew it, but it was all she had left.
“We stopped being friends years ago when you shafted me, Cora. I couldn’t care less what happens to you anymore. Now shut up and move.”
Pushing on Cora’s wrists, she started to stumble forward across the grass. He made sure to keep just out of reach in case Cora tried anything—not that she had anything planned. She would have to wait for the opportune moment if she had any hope of getting free.
As Nick led her off campus, she saw people staring after her, their eyes wide with shock. None of them would come to her aid, though. They would follow the rules and messing with Rogan’s business was a sure way to get themselves recruited or killed.
No, Cora was on her own, and resigned to her fate she started to question whether her decision to trade her friend in for her own years of freedom was worth it. At the time it had seemed like a good idea, it gave Cora time to figure out a plan to disappear and buy herself a few more years. But now, as she stumbled over gravel to an awaiting car, she was seriously questioning her decision.
If she hadn’t done it then she wouldn’t be in the situation she was in. However, she would have never escaped Rogan’s in the first place had it not been for her deal. It seemed her time had run out.
Chapter 5
As they drew nearer the familiar house Cora hated, she tried to remain confident. Showing any sign of weakness around these types of people was fatal. It wasn’t like Cora had it in her to surrender though—she planned to fight every step of the way. She had escaped three times before and she could do it again.
Nick had kept a tight grip on her wrists all of the way to Rogan’s. He understood better than anyone what went on inside Cora’s head, having been her best friend prior to her betrayal. He understood that a quiet Cora was more deadly than one that was shouting and screaming and the whole journey had been spent in silence so intense every breath could be heard.
As the car pulled into the long driveway that was used as an extra barrier between Rogan’s world and the rest of the population, she felt her heart sink at the sight of the building she had put so much effort into avoiding. The trees that lined the cream stoned road brushed past her window, changing the light from shade to blinding sun as she watched the enormous house draw closer.
The white walls stretched up two storeys with big glass windows breaking up the design. From an aerial view Cora assumed the building would look like a capital E, the three rectangles protruding from each end and the middle section of the house. All of the windows had balconies, its fake facade embellished with mock Greco-Roman pillars topped with archways, giving the house an older, more classic feel. It was all a lie, yet even Cora couldn’t deny that the building was stunning.
It was something you couldn’t take your eyes off as you passed, but that didn’t mean Cora wanted to enter the premises. It may have looked like an inviting five star spa resort, but the inside was far from it. Beyond the walls, it was not only the home of Rogan Carvelli but it also housed some of his most loyal and best fighters.
Nick said nothing the whole way there; instead he just looked out the window over Cora’s shoulder. It also meant he could keep an eye on her too. She didn’t look comfy with her wrists still pinned behind her back, her body bent away from the seat to accommodate them but Nick only felt a small measure of satisfaction at that—she had ruined his life after all.
As the car pulled to a stop in front of the main entrance, Nick leaned over her to open the door. Throwing it wide, he gestured for Cora to get out, giving her a brief shove from behind and causing her to grumble.
Stumbling out the car, Cora paused for a second, just studying the house while Nick gave the driver some orders, his hand still around her wrists. It looked even bigger when up close. However, not wanting to waste time, Nick guided her up the steps, through the front door and into the building.
Pushing her down the deep red-walled hallway it was busy with men in the usual black attire coming and going about their jobs like nothing was wrong. A few of them gave her a passing glance but Cora ignored them all, her gaze focused primarily on the men standing guard at every doorway she passed. There was nothing homely about the building, the entire corridor screamed that it was a fortress designed to protect those in it or in Cora’s situation; stop people getting out. The extra guards she passed were obviously for her as not so many had been around during her last visit. Making a mental note to question Rogan about them, she couldn’t help but smile at the thought they were there because of the stunt she had pulled last time. Rogan was not one to make the same mistake twice and the fact that she had shown him up in his own home made it all the more likely he would have implemented new measures.<
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Pausing outside two large, dark brown doors, the plain exterior would have given no clue as to what was behind them had she not already known. Nick raised the hand that wasn’t clasping Cora’s wrists to knock loudly and only one word came back. As she heard the voice shout “enter”, her body stiffened slightly before she built up her courage to face him. She would not be seen as weak.
Opening the door, Nick guided Cora into Rogan’s office—the only room in the entire house she had been in before. She let her eyes roam around the room, taking in the familiar mahogany desk at the far end, a brown leather sofa under the window that overlooked the drive next to it, a crystal glass chandelier that seemed like something out of Versailles and the vermilion walls. There were also three deer heads hanging on the right wall which made Cora retch as she looked at them. They always had. A few bronze gilded cabinets with splayed legs were spaced around the room but besides that, there were only two other items on display. The first was a photo of Rogan, his arm wrapped around a gorgeous brunette, resting on his desk. Oddly, Rogan looked happy in the photo and the thought that Rogan cared for anyone other than himself seemed incongruous to the ruthless business he operated. The second set of items were a few paintings hanging on the walls in regal, gold frames. Painted in the renaissance style, the only clue that they were not and had been commissioned by Rogan was the fact that each of them depicted him stood proudly in an authoritative stance above a crowd of panicked people in London. It portrayed him as the god he obviously thought he was.
Cora had delayed it as long as possible, but with nowhere else for her eyes to look, they found Rogan. He was leaning back on his plush, black leather chair with his feet resting on the desk, showing off his dark, navy jeans that gave no indication of wear. His hands were clasped in front of him and resting on his muscular chest, which looked even more impressive under the stretched black material, in a casual way, but his broad shoulders were tensed. Even from across the room Cora could see the glimmer of victory in his bright green eyes and the spark of excitement as he studied her carefully. His jet black hair was styled to perfection, cut short to make his face look more angular without a trace of facial hair to shadow it.
