Chapter 63
SIXTY-THREE
SAVANNAH
I come to with a gasp and look around my dorm. Only… it’s not my dorm. It’s not the cottage, and I’m not on campus. No, I’m in a room that looks vaguely familiar, with my body aching and gaps in my memory.
What the fuck happened, and where the hell am I?
I take stock of my body, noting the way I’m still wearing the same outfit I was wearing when studying at home, and that my limbs feel heavy, but otherwise I’m fine. My head is pounding, and I’m shaky as I sit up.
I’m lying on an expensive looking bed, in a room that looks like it’s straight out of a magazine, and I know that I’ve been here before. It’s not until I look out of the wall of windows that it hits me.
I’m in New York. More specifically, I’m in the penthouse my father owns in New York.
I’ve only been here once before, but I know in my bones that that’s where I am.
He got me.
I knew it was coming. I knew he wouldn’t leave me alone for too long, but I was hoping I would have a little more time with Harley first.
When it comes to my father, there’s no lengths he won’t go to when it comes to my future. There’s nothing he won’t do to make sure he’s the one controlling me.
But I know I won’t be the only one affected by this.
Harley and Logan won’t give up on me, which is more terrifying than anything my father could do to me.
The thought of the people I care about most getting hurt because of me is unfathomable, and so the only thing I can do is try to get myself out of this situation before they can do something stupid that will no doubt get them killed.
I stand tentatively, my hand reaching out to the nightstand to balance myself. I look around the room, noting how even though it looks elegant, there’s nothing here. Not a single thing I could use as a weapon if I needed to.
My gaze strays to the window, and I hate the fact we’re in a penthouse and not a regular house, since it’ll make it even harder to escape.
Then again, that’s probably why I was brought here to begin with.
I walk unsteadily around the room, taking a peek inside the bathroom and seeing he even had the foresight to remove the mirror from the wall, so I won’t have anything to smash in case I need to protect myself.
I approach the door, knowing it’s going to be locked and try anyway, but it’s no use—the handle won’t budge, and my hope is slowly fraying.
Still, I won’t give up. I just need to wait for the right moment.
Sooner or later, my father or one of his men will get sloppy, and I’ll find my way out of here and back to Harley.
There’s no other option.
My attention focuses on the dresser, and I start going through it, only to come up with nothing. Not a single thing that will help me.
Realizing I’m only using up my energy, I lie back down on the bed and try to rest. I still don’t really know how I got here.
I remember studying in my dorm, constantly checking the time to see when I should leave to meet with Harley.
I remember a knock at the door, and I thought maybe it was Logan or Lana, but then… nothing.
Maybe I was drugged? Or maybe I hit my head and now have a concussion?
Whatever happened has left me feeling weak, so I need to watch my energy levels and conserve it for when I find an opportunity to leave.
It’s no good trying to run when I can barely stand, and I don’t want to get out of their clutches only to be caught moments later.
I’m not sure how long I lay here, staring at nothing as I try to think up ways of how to get myself out of this mess, but it seems like forever. The thing that hurts the most is that I know Harley will be aware of what’s happened, and I know he must be going out of his mind right now.
The thing is, this is the last place on earth anyone would expect him to bring me.
Not that I’ve ever actually tried to get away, because I knew what the outcome would be.
But this time? This time, it’s not just me that’s on the line.
This time, I’ll have people looking for me, people who will end up getting hurt if they manage to somehow track me down, and I can’t let that happen.
The door opens suddenly, and I bolt upright, ignoring the twinges in my body as I do. Only, it’s not Father who enters the room, it’s one of his men instead, Liam Morris—one of the particularly nasty ones I’ve learned to avoid at all costs.
“Little bitch.” He says his usual nickname for me, but it doesn’t hurt, it just rolls right off me. When you put up with the shit I do, you learn that words can only hurt you so much. Fists can bruise a lot more than petty nicknames.
I stay silent, knowing it’s pointless to ask questions because this asshole won’t answer a single one of them.
I wish I could fight my way around him, but no amount of training from Logan could help me go up against the man in front of me.
He’s huge, with bulky muscles, and I’m pretty sure he has a military background.
He’s carrying a tray with a bottle of water and what looks like slices of bread.
How kind of him.
The further he gets into the room, the more my pulse spikes, and I stare at the open door, noting there’s no one standing outside.
Even the thought of trying to run is foolish, I know that, but my fight or flight instincts are kicking into gear, and I can’t help myself.
I spring from the bed and dart around him, but my movements are sluggish, and he catches me before I can even make it to the door. He grabs the back of my neck and yanks me backward. I wince at the pain but try not to make any noises because he likes it when I make noise.
“Stupid little bitch. I’m glad you’re finally going to get what you deserve,” he grunts, his breath close to my ear, and I swallow thickly. I should have stayed on the bed, I should have pretended to give up, I shouldn’t have tried to run when I knew it would end like this.
But I can’t change what happened. All I can do is hope I get another opportunity to get out of here.
“Your father is busy and won’t be by until later, so say night night and get some rest.”
“What are you—” He shoves me forward, cutting off my words, and my head connects with the wall before everything turns black.