Bleeding Edge: Elliot Security (Elliot Security Series Book 2) by Evie Mitchell (short story to read .txt) 📗

Well, for the moment.

The first punch had come from behind, hitting me hard in the side of my head. The chair had tipped, nearly falling.

“This is from my wife, your sister.” The ‘officer’ landed a punch to my stomach. I’d doubled over, vomiting on his shoe. The three men had taken turns, beating me until I was black and blue. One of my eyes had swollen, narrowing my vision, the other slightly blurred. But I could still see, and I’d thank whatever benevolent being out there had granted me that small privilege.

They’d kept me at the house for less than half an hour. Beating me until I was barely conscious. They’d dragged me outside, across the yard and down to a waiting car. I’d been dumped in the back before they’d driven off.

The car turned sharply, sending me crashing into the side. I clutched the iron, desperately trying to avoid knocking myself out. Under me the car lurched this way and that, bumping along what felt like a dirt road, the sound of stones pinging against the metal undercarriage.

This is it.

Shit.

I curled into a child’s pose, the tire iron clutched tightly to my chest. I had a plan. It wasn’t great, but it was a plan all the same.

The car rolled to a stop, the engine shutting off. The car rocked as the men inside opened doors, chatting quietly. Their steps crunched on the ground as they walked around the car. I could make out bits and pieces of the conversation.

“…here?”

“Inside.”

“Get her.”

The voices were above me now. I curled tighter, my fingers clutching the weight of the metal. The sound of a key sliding into a lock gave me a two-second warning. The boot popped open, light blinding me. I frantically blinked, keeping my head down, body curled.

“Time to get up.” Hands reached for me, digging into the soft flesh of my upper arms, hauling me out. My front was to the boot, my back to them, my bound hands clutched the iron to my stomach as they pulled me free.

One.

Two.

My foot touched the ground, and I reacted immediately, twisting violently, bringing a knee up to clock the first guy in the groin. He went down. Hands at the ready, I swung back around, slamming the iron into the other man’s head. He stumbled back, falling.

I heard the other men shout as I took off, running for the first spot my eyes landed. Thick bush scrub surrounded wherever they had brought me. Thick enough I could hide in the brush if only I got deep enough. I didn’t spare a glance at the men. Iron clutched tight, I bolted, my feet skittering across the dirt.

Shouting erupted behind me, the sound of pounding feet dogged my escape. I focussed, breaking through the underbrush, plunging deeper.

“Abishag! Stop!”

I tripped, stumbling.

“Abishag!”

I stumbled to a halt, my feet lead as I turned, dread, despair, and fear crashing as I watched the man approach.

“Abishag.” He offered me a tight smile. “You’ve returned.”

His face impassive as his eyes took me in. He’d aged. His face had thinned, giving him an older, mature look. Unfamiliar marks and scars criss-crossed his cheeks.

He looked directly at me, his hand settling heavy on my shoulder.

“Welcome home, sister.”

Chapter Fifty-One

Emmie

While tying me to a chair, he informed me it was nothing personal. This Abel was different to the boy I remembered. I’d always assumed he’d escape. Back when I knew him, he’d been determined to get out.

Now, he seemed determined to stay.

“The scars are from that night, if you’re interested,” he said lightly as he tightened the ropes binding my legs to the chair. “David assumed I’d helped you.” He lifted one hand, dragging fingers over the light marks. “This was my penance.”

I swallowed, cursing myself for my weakness. “I assumed you left.”

He chuckled. “I learnt the error of my ways.” He straightened, hand coming to settle on my head. “You will too, Abishag.”

My tongue felt thick in my mouth. I swallowed, ignoring the pain in my cheek. “It’s Emmie now.”

He chuckled. “You’ve returned home, sister. Your place is here, your name is as it was.”

The hair on the back of my neck lifted, fear tightening my chest. “I’m not returning.”

There were voices outside the door. Abel tilted his head, listening. His cold eyes came back to me. “David comes.”

There was a knock at the door. The man on this side, a man I wasn’t familiar with, pulled it open, permitting a large body. As he stepped into the light, I could see that time had not been kind to David. Grey had overtaken the brown of his hair and middle age had left behind bald patches. His face had deep grooves and a purple-red tinge to his skin. His brows were low, as if he were perpetually frowning. The cruel twist of his mouth, cemented in the wrinkles around his lips and the drooping of his chin.

He was still large, built like an old-school boxer. His meaty hands had twisted knuckles that were thick and inflamed. As he strode towards me, I detected a slight limp on his left side. His feet planted firmly in front of me, hands immediately going to his hips as he stared down.

The man I’d feared for years stood before me. And once again I was in a powerless position. Surprisingly, I didn’t quake with fear. Instead, I made a promise to Luc.

I’ll hang on till you find me.

My resolve firmed as I met David’s stare. I wouldn’t back down.

“You’ve caused quite a mess, little girl.” His voice sounded older, rougher than I remembered. The phrase was deliberate. A shiver of a memory whispered at the edges of my mind.

My hands were pinned to the bed, a hand at the back of my head, forcing my face down, pressing my cheek into the mattress. David’s breath was hot against the shell of my ear.

“Are you a good little girl? It’s time to please your husband.”

I shoved the memory away, my fingers flexing. I wrapped