The TV is loud, and I hope I can use his distraction to my advantage and find my way out of here long before he realises I’m gone.
Peering around the corner into the living room, Naylor’s sat in an armchair with his back to me, his eyes glued to the football game on the screen.
Taking a careful step backwards, I move for the front door, twisting the handle, finding it locked. Instead, I head through to the kitchen. The place is a mess. There’s empty cartons and piles of rubbish everywhere, the whole place blanketed in a thick layer of dust.
Spotting the back door across from me, I hurry for it, praying it’s been left unlocked. I reach for the handle but before I can pull it open, the creak of a floorboard behind me has my stomach bottoming out.
“I wouldn’t if I were you.”
My heart sinks.
As I spin to face him, I clock the stainless-steel kettle sittingon the counter next to me. I grab it and swing for him. He blocks it easily, ripping it from my hand and tossing it to the ground.
His face hardens, the look in his eyes menacing. “That was a very big mistake.”
Before I see it coming, he back-hands me across the face so hard I’m knocked to the ground. I land on my already injured shoulder and I cry out. The force of his slap spreads through my cheek like wildfire.
He grabs a fist full of my hair and drags me to my feet, shoving me back against the kitchen counter, the edge digging into the base of my spine.
He grabs a huge blade from the knife block and holds the tip to my throat, the cool sharp metal biting into my skin. “Try something like that again, I won’t bother to wait for your boyfriend to get here, I’ll gut you and let him find you bled out on the fucking floor. You and that little bastard you’re cooking up in there.”
My eyes widen. “I—I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Your ultrasound scan photo fell out of your back pocket when I tossed you in the van last night. Too bad neither you or Killian will see it born.”
Fear wracks through me. I don’t care what he does to me, but I can’t let him hurt my baby.
“I’m sorry,” I mutter, unable to hold back the tears slipping down my face.
“You will be,” he warns before grabbing my upper arm and dragging me back upstairs.
I’m shoved inside the room and I go down hard on my hands and knees, the rough splintered floorboards biting into mypalms, pricking my skin. Taking the roll of duct tape sitting on the windowsill, he crouches down in front of me. He grips my ankles roughly and tapes them together before doing the same to my wrists. He then binds them to my ankles so I can’t move.
Gravel crunches outside as a car approaches, the sound of an engine switching off.
Naylor takes a look out the window. “Right on time.” He then turns to me, waving the knife in his hand in my direction. “You move a fucking inch, I’ll drive the knife through your stomach first.” With that, he heads out of the room and back downstairs.
Who’s here?
Please don’t let it be Killian.
The front door opens and I hear the sound of muffled voices on the floor below me. Footsteps grow louder as they climb the stairs.
Naylor enters the room first followed by…
My heart stops.
No…
My father’s eyes widen when they settle on me, the surprise on his face tells me I’m the last person he expected to see. His head snaps to Naylor. “What the hell is this?”
Naylor looks almost proud of himself. “This is how we get rid of Killian.”
“This wasnotwhat we agreed, Naylor.”
What?“You’re in on this?”
If my wrists and ankles weren’t tied together, I’m almost certain I could kill my father with my bare hands.
