The Hated Billionaire by Erica Frost

Chapter 23: Christina

I looked around me. It was dark and I was lying on a hard floor. When my eyes got used to the light, I realized that it wasn’t all that shadowed – there was faint light coming through one of the windows across the room, high above my head. I pushed myself upright, trying to see. It was cold and I fastened my blazer, grateful that I’d put it on.

“I need to get out of here.”

My hands and feet were free, which was something, at least. I could remember being in the alley, and that man who’d grabbed me. I felt my heart thump. Where were they? And what had they brought me here for?

I tried to get an idea of my surroundings. I was terrified – I had no idea of when somebody would come in and how much time I had to try to get away.

I was in some sort of warehouse, I decided. It was dusty and the floor and walls were concrete, badly finished and grime-stained. The window was too high for me to climb up to, especially with nothing at all in the room to stand on. The ceiling was lost somewhere in the dark, the beams just visible in the powdery light from the window.

What could I do? I would have to find some other opening besides the window – they sure didn’t get me in here through there since it was probably eighteen feet off the ground. There must be a door, but I was fairly sure it would be locked.

“Where the hell am I?” I asked myself.

I limped to the wall, still wearing my high heels. My feet were so painful I could barely walk, but I had to – I needed to find the way out of here. My eyes had got a bit better in the dark, and I could make out that the floor was pale gray, the walls dark gray. I ran my hand along the wall, feeling for a door.

I had almost found one when I heard someone talking.

“No! No, Jackson. Out of the question. No…you get that money like you said you would, or we’ll kill her. Understood?”

I felt sick. Jackson was my father. He had clearly gotten himself into debt with some people who meant business. I shut my eyes. I knew perfectly well that my father had no money to speak of. He wouldn’t be able to pay the debt. I wanted to scream it at them! Maybe I could pay it. I had savings. If they just wanted money, I’d give it to them just to get free.

“No! You’re the one who told us where she lived. You’re the one who said you could get the cash. Now, you have forty-eight hours or she’s dead.”

I threw up. I crouched on my knees, my stomach heaving. My father had told them where I lived!

The door opened as I struggled to my feet. I wiped my mouth and pressed my body flat to the wall.

Someone stepped into the room. I heard their feet cross towards where I had been lying, and then someone shouted.

“Where is she?”

I stayed where I was, flattened against the wall. I was close to the door. If I dropped to my knees, I could maybe crawl through before they spotted me.

“Hey! She’s here!” someone shouted. “Don’t let her get out of the door!”

I stood up, ready to run, but someone slammed the door shut from the other side and the man who was now in the room with me ran towards me. I screamed, more with rage than fear, falling on him and kicking and hitting, letting out all my fury and terror in a reaction so visceral that I didn’t have to think. I wasn’t thinking, or I would never attack anyone.

“Hey!” the man shouted, and I felt someone grip my shoulders, shaking me. His arms were so strong that I couldn’t fight back and I felt my response change from fighting, or fleeing, to just going rigid.

I felt the man’s hands tighten on my shoulders and he glared at me. I shut my eyes – I was not going to look at that expression. It was terrifying to me. I held my breath and I wasn’t particularly inclined to praying, but I did.

All I wanted was to get out of here.

I felt him let go of me. I opened my eyes and put my hands out as I slipped and fell on the floor, unbalanced.

“You’re as wily as Jackson,” he spat. “I told the guys to tie you up, but no…they’re too smart for that.” He stepped across the floor, and I struggled to my feet again, desperate to not be too helpless in front of him. My heart was racing, I felt sick and I was numb with fear.

“Please,” I whispered. “Let me go. I can pay, if it’s money you need. You don’t need to do anything to me.”

He sniffed. “You got six hundred thousand stacked up somewhere?”

I felt my mouth open. “Six hundred thousand? No way!” I stared at him in horror. “Nobody has that kind of money saved up.” Nobody except perhaps for Brett Caden, but I wasn’t going to mention him. My heart ached at the thought of him. I wanted to see him again! I suddenly remembered I had my phone in my pocket. I reached my hand in to feel if it was still there. It was.

It was the one chance I had.

He laughed. “Yeah. That’s what we thought,” he said. “But we need that cash. Your father owes us. And if we don’t get it…”

“Please,” I whispered. “Please. You can’t kill people for money.”

“People I know were killed for less than you would be. That’s how it works.”

I shut my eyes, leaning back on the wall. I didn’t believe in a world like that. In my world, people weren’t killed for money. But then, my world wasn’t a warehouse in the middle of nowhere, and I didn’t know how I was going to get out of here and back to somewhere that made any sort of sense.

“Please,” I whispered.

He spat on the floor. I could see rage in his body – in the set of his legs, the way he held his arms at his sides. I knew why, too. He didn’t really want to kill me either. He was trying to work himself up to it. He just glared at me and went to the door.

“If you try and get out again, we’re going to tie you up,” he said.

I didn’t say anything; just stepped away from where I leaned against the wall. I was so tired. Nothing made sense anymore. I was floating in my mind, my brain drifting, cut off from everything around me. I waited for him to go out and I heard a key grate in the door.

I rolled up on the floor, and weirdly my mind went to Brett and I wished he was here. I wished I could see him again.