Island Rush (72 page)

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Authors: Marien Dore

BOOK: Island Rush
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He needed to hear, to know that he needed to keep his guard up and leave.  My feet loud and pounding in the echoing hall, I saw his door down the hall and ran as fast as I could to it.  But there was another noise, following me in the same echo.  Then I felt his arm on me, and I tripped, falling onto the hard tile of the floor as I screamed.  “CASEY!” 

His door was still a distance away, and it was a really thick door.  My eyes could only take in that before my gaze was whipped away.  My dad was on the floor with me; I must have tripped him when I fell.  With how he grabbed me when he hauled us up, he was more than pissed off.

Grabbing me, I still tried moving forward!  He needed to know!  It hurt terribly to know that Casey didn’t and couldn’t hear me, but I needed to pull it together. 

Casey knew someone could be coming after him, either my father himself or through his connections.  After all, I did tell him about my situation and how that would happen to me.  Now, this was his situation.  He probably realized that and would do something.  At least, I had to convince myself that he would be able to get away and stay safe.  What bothered me was knowing that I mattered more to him than he avoiding the same fate.

His strong hands pulling me to my feet in a hard grip, he began laughing.  He spoke in a hiss under his breath.  “You little bitch, stubborn bitch.”  His nails dug in as he dragged me down the hallway quickly.  How lucky he was that there was nobody around.  “Oh, he must have been one hell of a good lay!  You don’t love him, do you?”

Scowling, not saying anything, he dragged me while walking at a faster pace.  I heard a low laugh escape him.  “No wonder he was freaking out back in there.  His little toy was leaving.”

I clamped my lips shut, keeping that cry tightly locked within me.  The pen in my back pocket was burning, and I itched to grab it, stab him, and do whatever I could with it.  Taunting me with those words did not help.  Those words were used to make me mad, but I think he really could tell that Casey and I had been together by how much he was freaking out. 

I thought about that for a second.  No, he did not come to that conclusion with how bad Casey was freaking out.  Anyone who knew would freak out.  I think my father saw the way Casey was looking at me.  He must have caught one of those many looks he gave me that were full of fire.

“Come on, admit how you fell for him or you can admit that you wanted to feel like a slut!  I’m sure the person that is waiting at home would like to know the story.”

My head snapped up.  I looked at him as he forced me down the hall with him, nearing the elevators.  “What are you talking about?  Who is waiting for me at home?!” I growled.  I could just imagine all his friends waiting.  To do what?  I don’t know, but I bet it’s worse than anything before.  I shuttered thinking about it. 

“Who’s at home, you ask?  That’s the surprise, my dear daughter.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 74

He guided me —
well, dragged is a better word
— into the elevator.  I was shaking by now with what he had just said.  Who was it?  Who was home?  If it’s Alex, dad didn’t need me anymore for money.  Getting killed would be almost a straight guarantee if Alex is home.  If it’s his friends… oh god. 

There were about four or five men that would come to my house a lot.  They would drink and smoke with dad at times.  I hated seeing them.  They were just as bad as dad in some ways.  They always liked to mess with me, threaten me, and hurt me if they could.  Some men were always wearing police uniforms so of course, they were cops - which is how I feel my dad got away with a lot.  I could believe it when dad mentioned having someone take care of Casey while he was here.  For all I knew, my dad expected this and had someone come with him to the hospital.  Oh god… My heart jumped at how possible that was. 

In the elevator, dad pulled out his phone from his pocket, flipping it open and dialing.  He held it up to his ear, waiting, and I prayed — hoped with all I had — that he wasn’t calling his friends to ‘take care’ of Casey.  Then, he started to talk.

“Hey Eric, it’s me,” he said into the phone.  I heard mumbling through the other end and dad continued on.  It became clear that my recent suspicion of someone already here came true.  “Yeah, she’s with me.  Are you good to take care of him?” The man on the other end answered before dad replied.  “Room 302.  Third floor.  The name is Casey Rush, I believe.” He looked down to me and smiled.  I felt my tears flow over again and fall down my cheeks. 
Why, why, why?!

“Yeah, yeah,” he laughed.  “Exactly.” He paused before going on, glancing at me again.  “So, how are you going to do it?”

Oh god.  He was going to repeat to me what the man was going to do to kill Casey.  It would be torture to know what was going to happen and not being able to warn him! 
Casey was more than smart, he knew something was coming for him.  He would be ready.  With the look in his eyes, he was determined to come up with a plan.
  I just continued thinking that.  I needed some hope.

My father smirked.  “Sounds good.  Hold on, I’ll ask.”  He moved the phone away for a small moment, looking down to me.  ”What sounds better: tainted IV or poisoned food?  Suffocation?  Or just shot in the head?”

My mouth dropped open, and I was shaking, my chest building with a tight pressure ready to explode.  My air coming in and out fast and unevenly, I couldn’t hold in my sob and started crying, running a hand through my hair. 

The elevator door opened.  Surprisingly, we were facing a long dark hall.  It looked like it was never used.  Stepping out, one of his hands holding onto my shoulder tightly, we walked through the very dull white hall.  The lights were dim, and tile floor barely reflected anything.  The walls were plain brick, and it assisted in making this entire area chilly.  

When I didn’t answer as we moved, he put the phone back to his ear and spoke.  “How about this.  Go to his room and if he is asleep, taint the IV.  If he is awake and in bed, suffocate him with his pillow - he’s too weak to fight.  But if he isn’t in his room, find him and take him somewhere where you can shoot him.”  After a few more moments of pausing for confirmation, he smiled.  “Great.  Thanks again, Eric.”  Then, he snapped the phone closed, looking to me.  “See?  Problem solved.  Which you started.”

“You’re going to hell!  You will burn and burn and fucking burn for all you have done!” I yelled at him in the abandoned hallway.  “If I could, I’d send you there myself, as slowly as I can.  Slow and pleasurable progress!”

He scowled, and I was against the hard brick in a second, breath high as he slammed my back into it.  It sent tremors up my back at the pain, which was worse than I expected.  Gasping and groaning, he then pinned me there hard with his body.  Teeth clenched and lips parted, he was an inch away from my face as he hissed.

“Oh, you picked the wrong day to piss me off!” he growled.  “Shut your mouth before I do it for you.”

Hearing the order he gave that man, I felt done.  I felt fried and more than devastated.  I was fuming, frustrated beyond belief and angry.  “Well, I can’t begin to tell you how truly sorry I am
dad
that I’m pissing you off and ruining your precious day!”

He tightened his grip on me, pushing me harder against the wall.  “God, I wish that pilot never saw you and left you on that island.  I didn’t need to worry about my daughter running off and telling people.  An island was the best place you could have gone.”

I tried pushing him away despite the pain still spreading over my back.  He kept his hold strong.  I was pissed and done with not saying anything.  “Oh don’t worry, I’m not too happy seeing you either.  You are such—”

He cut me off with a hard and rough slap across my face, making my head slam back and hit the brick.  Ah God, it hurt!  It hurt terribly.  Letting out a hard gasp and cry, my eyes widened without seeing anything.  My vision became blurred with black spots.  I could feel the hair on the back of my head dampen slightly with blood. 

He slammed me hard against the wall again, palms on my shoulders.  “Fucking bitch!”  I let out a cry, tears falling violently now as he did it again.  My head hit the brick again.  All I could think was the pen.  I needed the pen.  And before I was too weak, I did what I had to do.

I wanted to shove that pen through his cold heart and kill him.  I loved my father, but I couldn’t help it.  He was a father to me my whole life until a few months ago.  This, though, who he was now, I wanted this awful man dead.  Though a pen wouldn’t be enough, I needed to use it right now.  Right now.  Up in that room with Casey, I saw his intense eyes.  They asked to stay safe and not do anything stupid.  Unfortunately, at this point, I had no choice.  Casey would be murdered!  And so would I soon.

I grunted and grabbed the pen from my back pocket as he was pinning me.  When I managed to give myself a little more space, that’s all I needed.  I swung my arm out and struck it into his side, using all I had to stab him.  I just wanted to be free of this.  I wanted to have my chance back to get to Casey!  To escape, get him out, save him from this!

I felt the pen dig into his side. Validation was clear with how loudly he hissed and groaned, pushing himself back and away from me. Then, I tried to run back towards where we came from.  However, thanks to my blurred vision and my back surprisingly hurting worse than I expected, I did not get far. 

Not a few feet later, I was grabbed by the hair and thrown to the ground.  I did what I needed to at that point: I screamed.  Screamed at the top of my lungs, hoping someone would hear!  I needed help, and I needed it now!  Because it was going to be too late too soon! 

“No!” I screamed when I felt my dad kneel down, pressing me to the ground when I tried to get up.  He roughly turned me to my back.  With how blurred my vision became, I didn’t expect to be able to see much, but I could see my red-faced dad had enough of this. 

Never in my life did I fight back against him like I just did.  That’s why he slapped me across the face again, this time much harder. I tried forcing back my cries, but it was especially hard at this point especially when he took that same hand and wound it in my hair hard, forcing me to look up at him.  My vision cleared slightly more as he stared down at me and spoke.

He hissed harshly to me. “I don’t think you understand.  I only wanted to protect my daughter.  Now, my daughter betrayed me.  I have to do what I have to do.  I do not want that to mean using this gun on you right here and now.” With that, he roughly angled my head down, making my cheek press to the cool tile.  His side was in view as he knelt there.  He lifted his shirt up just enough to show me that handle I felt earlier.  The handle of a gun. “If you force me to, I will.  But what good will that do for you and lover boy?  Stay calm and do not fight me,” he said sternly.

My head pounded hard, and my body was aching at this point.  I didn’t expect my mind to be able to race as fast as it was at the moment.  All I could do was balance my options.  It came down to listening and giving in or fighting him and getting shot without a doubt.  That last one honestly sounded like my best option.  It would give me barely any chance of escape but what’s the point if he is just going to kill me anyway? 

“Are you going to kill me?” I wheezed, looking up into his eyes.

“I do not want to, but we will see.  Your chances of living are better if you shut up and stop fighting.”

My heart was breaking.  I honestly hoped he would have said yes.  I didn’t want to give in.  The thought alone was so hard considering I wanted a chance to save Casey so badly!  So badly that it would be worth dying for!  However, I knew what I needed to do. 

I needed to stay strong.  Casey wanted me to stay alive.  Though I used the pen to attack my dad, I had to go by what my man would want in the end.  Maybe if dad lets me live, I could find my way back to Casey.  There was a chance he could get away and live especially because he knew something would come his way and he had Jill to help.  Casey probably already had the cops coming.  I also knew that if Casey could avoid my dad’s plan to get rid of him, he would come for me.  Casey would try to help or save me.  Despite that being the last thing I wanted, it was just one more reason I needed to be smart and stay alive.

My tears falling hard, I knew I had no choice.  Casey and I were supposed to have a future together.  I needed to be a fighter, and that means staying alive when there still is a chance for us.

Probably seeing my acceptance of his words, he was smiling.  “I think we understand each other a little more now, don’t you say?”  Looking to him, I felt so much hate in me.  So much more than last time I was home.  Seeing I wasn’t answering, he emphasized his next words, raising his eyebrows.  “Don’t we understand each other, honey?”

“Yes.”

He smiled, teeth shining through. “Good.  Now, we need to get home,” he said, yanking me to my feet and making my body and headache.  The words he spoke echoed in my head.  Home… what was home to him was something entirely different for me.  His home was a couple hours away.  Mine was on the third floor in room 302.

“We need to go this way,” he said, continuing to guide me down the hall again.  It was hard for me to even walk with how bad my head and back hurt.  “If we go out the front, it’s full of reporters.  I’ve been asked to allow you to do some interviews.”

“Let me guess. You said no.”

“Exactly,” he said.  My stomach turned at not only his answer but the sound of his voice, the cruelty and amusement in it.  Seeing his side bleeding from where I stabbed him helped a bit.

Our footsteps echoing down the wide dim lit hall, I noticed he was guiding me more and not dragging me as much.  He must have seen I wasn’t going to run.  And I really wasn’t going to for the small chance we might have.  Turning around a corner, at the end of the hall, there stood a small door with a glowing red exit sign above it. 

When we got to it and dad opened it, there were no reporters out here.  The parking lot was smaller than the one out front I was guessing.  Only a few cars sat on top of the cracked concrete.  One of them was dad’s old pickup truck.  Walking out and under the sun, we got in, and he started the truck.

It was really strange, being in his truck again.  This whole time, it was strange being back.  Back into the world full of technology and varieties of food.  Everything was so easy.  We didn’t need to wash in a lake and be careful to not use up our resources.  Didn’t need to work for food other than walking to the fridge.  Didn’t need to look up at the sun to guess the time when we could just look at a clock.  We didn’t need to walk and get sore feet in the process but drive instead.  All things, so easy.  So easy and therefore, less appreciated.  It didn’t matter how easy, though.  I still wished we were back on that island. 

As we pulled out and onto the road, I was able to see the front of the building.  I felt my eyes widen at all the news vans and the people.  It was all for Casey and me.  It was so strange. 

As we passed it and got on the highway, my thoughts drifted. 
Is he dead?  Was he able to somehow avoid that?  Did that man, Eric, got into his room yet?  He probably did.  Was he asleep and therefore poisoned?  Or was he awake and suffocated to death?  Or was he shot in the head trying to pursue his plan?  Did he even act on that idea I am sure he had?  What was it?  What was he going to do?  Hell, could he? Or was he dead?
  That was my main concern.  Was he dead?  Every few minutes when I thought that question, I knew it was more likely each time.  Every second passing, there was a better chance.

I rested my pounding and aching head against the window, watching the road fly by like the seconds of my life were.  Watched the road go by without hesitation, like every minute of every day.  Every second, with no hesitation, with no sympathy to slow down.  The world didn’t need to hesitate or have any sympathy.  It could be as beautiful as it wanted to, but its cruelty followed the same rule.

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