49. Othelia
Chapter forty-nine
Othelia
It feels like my head is ready to detonate. Pressure in my ears keeps building and I attempt to rub my aching head but freeze when I realize my hands are bound behind my back, the hard plastic biting into my skin. The carpet underneath me is rough and scratches my face as I try to get a better look around.
Opening my eyes sends a flashing pain through my head and I squeeze them tight, willing away the pain. I try to go back through my memory, trying to figure out what the hell happened.
I remember Rook in bed this morning, hair tousled and the sheets slung low on his hips, him calling me a smart ass as he walked out the door. Layla on the floor playing with her toys when… a knock at the door.
The door.
The image of Clay standing disheveled in the doorway triggers a high-speed replay of the hotel room. Smashing Clay over the head, being chased, him beating the door down, Layla screaming as Clay brings the gun down hard across my face.
Then nothing.
Where the hell am I?
Layla. I lift my head, squinting my eyes to protect them from the brightness of the overhead lights.
A shaking motion takes over the room and a wave of nausea fills me while I try to hold it in. A plane. I’m in a fucking plane.
“Oh, hey there sleepy head. I was wondering when you would come to.”
Leaning down, Clay grabs hold of my bound hands and yanks me to a sitting position. Dried blood is still on his shirt, but it looks like he cleaned his face up, applying a dressing to the cut on his temple from the vase I threw at him.
“Was worried I hit you too hard. Can’t have you missing all the fun.” I jerk myself away from him, but only serving to throw myself back on the floor.
“She’s feisty.” An unfamiliar voice coos from a seat over my shoulder. I strain my neck to get a better view, but all I can see is large combat boots comfortably crossed at the ankles. “I can see why he likes her.”
“Yeah, well, she was mine first,” Clay spits at the man behind me, stepping closer with his fists clenched. Clay tugs me forward and holds onto my jaw, fingers digging into my skin. “He won’t want you back by the time I’m done with you.”
I try to pull away, but he aggressively plants his lips on mine. I scrunch up my nose and try to back away, but he just grabs onto me even harder.
“Enough.” The stranger’s stern voice leaves no room for interpretation. Clay’s grip loosens and I shake my head to get rid of him. His cocky smile grows at my discomfort, but it drops when he looks over my shoulder, paling as he steps back, slumps into his seat.
“You’ll get your turn,” the gruff voice says. Clay turns to look out the window, leaning on his fist while he murmurs something to himself.
I turn my head, wincing through the pain. Trying to get a better look at the man sitting unfazed behind me. I feel like I’ve fallen through a time portal and come out forty years in the future. An older, more weathered version of Rook stares back at me. Though his eyes are the same shade of stormy blue, the coldness in them sends a shiver through me. He relaxes back in the chair, running his eyes up and down my body in appraisal.
My eyes widen, my muscles feeling weak as a heaviness settles in my core. I release a shaky breath as my voice comes out just as rattled. “Your…” I can’t even complete my sentence as the disbelief sets in.
Leaning in, his head tilts to the side as he takes me in, smiling at the fear he must see on my face before he slowly nods. “Randall Wiland. I’m so glad we can finally meet.”
“What do you want?” I steel my voice, trying to sound less frightened than I am, but the way his lip kicks up lets me know my efforts have been in vain.
“Hmm, that is the question, I suppose.” He sits back in the chair, legs spreading as he rubs his salt and pepper stubble with his thumb and forefinger, pretending to think hard about the question. “I guess I want to see how far he will go to protect you.”
“He won’t follow me. We barely even know each other,” I lie. “He’s just some guy I slept with.” My heart aches but I need to convince him I mean nothing to Rook.
“His nose begs to differ.” He points at Clay, who scoffs from his seat, but Randall doesn’t take his eyes off me. I look over at Clay. His once perfectly straight nose now has a slight crook just under the bridge where Rook’s bike helmet split it open. The cut has now healed, but a scar remains across the bridge.
I can’t help the small smile that crosses my face at the memory. How Rook stood up for me even when we barely knew each other. A new fear ripples through me at the thought of what he could be capable of if he knew I was hurt. My chest tightens as I imagine Rook ending up in jail, or worse, them catching him off guard and killing him for me.
He would do it too.
There’s no doubt in my mind that he would put himself in front of any danger to protect me. After seeing the way he broke down at the memory of what happened to his mom, there is no way he will stand back and let the police come to my rescue.
I look back at Randall, who now stares at me with a smug smile across his face, knowing he has won. Raising my chin, I shrug as best I can with my hands bound. “I guess he’s a man who doesn’t like it when boys put their hands where they aren’t wanted.”
“You fucking bitch!” Clay’s voice spews venom as he violently springs out of his seat, striking me across the face with a force that sends me sprawling sideways to the floor, grazing the armrest of the neighboring seat as I topple, crashing heavily onto the ground, defenseless against the impact.
Pain lances through my face again. Pressed against the floor, I whimper as the faint aroma of spilled alcohol and lingering stale tobacco permeates the air.
Clay leans over me, gripping my hair and yanking my face to his. “You’re lucky that for once you’re actually fucking worth my time. Lord knows, that pussy was a fucking waste of it.”
I flinch as his words hit their mark, then he laughs and I steel myself for the punch, but it doesn’t make it any easier when his fist smacks my cheek.
I shrink into myself, tears running silently down my face. Closing my eyes, I will Rook not to come. I am not worthy of the love that man offers, and I am certainly not worth him dying over. Clay chuckles as he leaves me whimpering on the floor, just like we left him.
Randall stands, reaching behind his seat to pull out a duffel bag and placing it on the table in front of me.
My tears mingle with the blood that streaks down my face, feeling sticky and warm against my skin as I lay on the floor and watch him sift through the bag before he stops on a small black zipped box.
I can’t see the contents as he opens it, but my eyes widen in fear as he removes a small vial, tipping it back and forth before placing it on the table. “Ever since he took her away from me, I’ve been devising a plan to make him pay, patiently waiting for the right moment. Though he has suffered right alongside me, it just doesn’t feel like enough, ya know?”
Shuffling my feet, I attempt to push myself away from him as he continues. “That was until you came along. I couldn’t believe my luck when I saw the videos of him chasing you out onto that stage and you turning to kiss him in front of thousands of people. I knew that day that you were the missing piece to my plan. You were what I could take from him.”
“What, taking his mother from him wasn’t enough?” My back hits against the edge of the seat. I reach back and my hands run over a cold section of sharper metal. I try to rub the edge of the cable ties, binding my arms against it, praying for it to snap.
“HE TOOK HER FIRST!” he snaps, a snarl on his face so different to any look I’ve ever seen from Rook. “And that was… unfortunate. If she just came back home, I wouldn’t have had to.”
“He didn’t take her. She left you.” I yelp as his hand strikes hard across my cheek.
“She wouldn’t have left, had it not been for him . She is mine,” he bites out, sneering at me before his face changes, the mask dropping back into place.
“It took me weeks to work out how to get you where I needed you. The flowers were the first step. Did you like them?” His head cocks towards me before going back to his task. “I needed him to know that I knew about you. To recognize the danger he was putting you in. I expected him to run. Did you know that if he had, I would have left you alone too?” He scoffs to himself. “Well, maybe. You have become hard to stay away from. Maybe I would’ve taken you to toy with, anyway.”
I gasp but shut my mouth, attempting to pull the sound back in, but the laugh he bellows has me pushing back against the chair.
“I digress.” He chuckles again, pulling out a sealed syringe, unwrapping it and attaching a needle to the end. He examines the contents of the glass vial, then inserts the needle, flips it upside down, and pulls back the plunger.
“Imagine my surprise when I discovered your ex-boyfriend’s name while sifting through countless articles about you.” His face brightens with a smile filled with malice as he looks up at Clay, who now paces on the other side of the plane.
Withdrawing the needle, he inspects it again, depressing it until a drop of liquid balls on the tip of the needle. Inhaling deeply, he turns to me, releasing a sigh as he leans back against the table.
“I’ve waited a long time for this, Othelia. I’m sorry to have to do this, but I can’t have you ruining anything. So, you’re going to have a nice nap till we reach our destination. I promise, you’ll be wide awake for the big show.” He winks and the similarity to Rook makes my heart clench. As a sob pulls from my chest, his smile grows wider.
“Please no,” I beg as he looms over me, syringe in hand. I squirm and try to kick him away. “No, NO!” I scream. Though we are thousands of miles in the air and I know I have no way of escape.
He pins me against the floor, surprisingly strong even though he must be in his sixties. Thrashing against my restraints, I ignore the biting pain coming from my wrists as I try to break the restraints.
The needle bites against my skin and I squeeze my eyes shut, waiting for the oblivion he promised. However, he hesitates and removes the needle before injecting the liquid.
I open my eyes only to be met with another one of those sadistic smiles spreading across his face.
“Why don’t you do the honors?” He holds up the syringe towards Clay, his eyes still trained on mine, watching me.
Clay steps forward but hesitates, gaze shifting between the offered syringe and me, pinned on the floor as he chews on the inside of his cheek.
Randall’s eyebrow’s furrow as he senses Clay’s hesitation. His face morphs into something that resembles a broken version of affection…
He turns towards Clay, his voice now softer: “Do this for me,” he breathes. Clay looks back at him, lip parting as he hangs on Randall’s every word. “Son.”
I freeze, my eyes widening as I look between the two men standing in front of me.
Son.
Oh God, how had I not realized? Rook. Does he even know?
The same cheekbones, the same curl to their hair, even the same build.
I had been so focused on the fact that Randall had Rook’s eyes that I didn’t even notice his similarities with Clay.
The same sneer. The smirk I had seen on Clay so many times now spreads across Randall’s face as Clay steps up, taking the syringe out of his hand.
“No, Clay, please, please. You don’t have to do this.”
Randall holds me firmly until Clay takes over his position, pinning me to the floor. He then steps back, crossing his arms over his chest as he casually leans against the table, his head cocking to the side as he watches.
“Clay, please, don’t do this to me,” I beg, but it’s no use. A determined look grows on Clay’s face as he shoots a glance back at Randall, who just nods his encouragement.
With that one look, Clay’s posture transforms. He stretches out his neck and a sneer spreads across his face. “I’m sorry, Tilly,” he mocks as he tilts his head to the side, leaning in, the sharp prick of the needle causing me to wince and cry out.
His lips brush the shell of my ear and the caress that used to light me up now fills my veins with ice. “I’ll make sure his death is slow and painful after he watches you bleed out in front of him.” Placing a kiss on my temple as he releases me. My body slumps against the chair.
I cry out for Rook as I slip into nothingness.