CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
“Let me go,” she pleaded, the blood trickling down the crack at the side of her lip. “There is nothing you can gain by killing me.”
“That’s where you’re wrong my sweet daughter, or I suppose I should say niece now.”
“You never told me. You pretended all those years and never told me. I would have loved you as my father,” she said fighting back the tears.
“I didn’t want your fucking love. I didn’t want your mother to get pregnant with the boys, but it happened.”
“You killed your own sons,” she said swallowing the bile rising in her throat. He gripped her throat, pushing her back against the leather seat.
“That’s right you fucking bitch. I killed them, your mother, and now I will kill you just because I can and it will make me feel better,” he smirked.
“It won’t make you feel better,” she said, gasping for air. He released his grip staring at her with hate. “You’ll still walk away from here with nothing.”
He shoved her against the door, punching her in the stomach as she gasped for breath. He wanted to rip her apart with his hands. The punch had forced her shirt to rise up, the lower cup of her breasts displaying the soft flesh. His dick instantly hardened.
She looked just like her mother. Beautiful, full, and probably just as pliant beneath him. He gripped her knee and slid his hand between her thighs. She screamed, kicking out at him, writhing against the lock door.
“Relax, sweet Bianca. This will only hurt for a little while,” he grinned. “Only until you pass out.”
The car suddenly stalled, the locks disengaging. Bianca’s head spun from the brutal hit but she reached the door handle, taking her moment to escape. The pain struck her like a bolt of lightening as she fell out of the door, scrambling to her feet.
The pain in her knees nearly made her fall once again and she heard Pablo cursing behind her, screaming at the driver.
“Run, Bianca,” she whispered to herself.
The darkness of the night and the dark road seemed to blend together. Gathering her courage she took one step at a time, ignoring the pain in her body, and then took off running.
She couldn’t see the gates ahead, she couldn’t feel the presence of anyone other than the two men behind her. She was praying, hoping they would let her in, let her return.
But why should they? She ran without telling them goodbye. She’d left the tracking bracelet on the table without even a note. They would hate her.
“Bianca! You fucking bitch!” screamed Pablo from behind her. “When I find you …”
His voice trailed off into the wind and rain as she continued to run. She tried to remember the way, the directions to the hidden road that would lead her to the café and the grounds beyond, but the darkness and the storm made it all invisible to her.
Seeing a dark gravel driveway, she took it, praying for it to be the right direction.
“No. No,” she whispered. She stared at the long gravel road in front of her, in the distance there was a yellow, iron drop gate. “Someone must live there.”
She jumped over the short gate, obviously meant to stop cars, not pedestrians and then ran across an old wooden bridge. On the other side was another yellow gate and she jumped it as well, racing off into the darkness.
She fell once, twice, and then a third time in a mud puddle, her body screaming in agony. Her chest her so badly from breathing heavily, she couldn’t keep going. That’s when she heard two things.
The first, in the distance, was the sound of Pablo screaming her name. But the second, the second was something much more familiar and yet, still dangerous.
It was the distinct hissing rumble of an alligator. The eyes appeared in front of her, slowly creeping toward her. They were red, with yellow and black. It seem almost unnatural. Then she knew.
“Alvin, help me.”