Synopsis: "Why am I here anyway?" I blurted out. My question was met with deafening silence for a minute. "You are mine, Abigail. You are mine." Carter uttered calmly. Raising a brow, I chuckled completely perplexed. "Excuse me?" Carter retired to his seat at the table. He grabbed a bottle of whiskey from the ice bowl, opened it up, and poured himself a drink before answering. "You heard me, Miss Abigail. You're mine? Yes, you are mine. What part of the word do you not understand?" I stood with weakened shoulders, staring daggers. "What do you and my father have to do with each other?" Carter gently put three cubes of ice in his glass. "Here's a simple way to put it. Your father took some money from me and failed to return the sum as we agreed. You were his collateral, that's why you are here. Need a Spanish interpretation? I know a few other languages."
This story contains explicit sexual content, profanity, mild violence, and topics that may be sensitive to some readers. Please be advised.
Abigail's POV
"Four oranges, a can of milk, that will be two dollars and four cents..." I checked the contents of the bag before handing it back. The customer paid for everything and left shortly after.
Save for the chimes of the doorbell, the shop returned to its usual silence. Some days would be like this, boring and lacking customers with the "boring" factor always constant. I chewed on my fingernail watching the clock that stood over the doorway. As soon as the clock struck 4 pm, I hurriedly packed my things into my backpack.
"Already running away, huh?" Owen said with a smirk as he neared me just as I exited the shop.
"You have no idea, Owen. I've been dying to leave." I rolled my eyes in response. "Till we meet on Monday."
"I will be honoured to pass the baton then." Owen waved, laughing as he disappeared behind the door. I shook my head and started walking homeward. Our house was just a stone's throw from the store I worked at.
As I neared the house, I noticed something was off. I counted one big van and six men all clad in black visibly armed. They moved around the house like they were guarding something or someone.
I could only wonder what brought armed men to my father's house out of the blue. Bottling my fear up, I held my backpack tightly and entered the house, ignoring their gazes. ...Wow, they didn't even attempt to stop me, okay?
Strangely, I walked into more men in black, stiffly standing at every corner of our small living room. My father sat close to a man, probably in his mid-thirties, who grinned at me in a way that made me cringe.
"What's going on, padre?" I asked anxiously, toggling my eyes between the pair.
"It's nothing, mi hija. Go to your room." That was all my father said. I could swear I saw uneasiness dance behind his eyes. Without another word, I trod to my room upstairs. In the confined safety of my room, I threw my backpack aside and slumped on my bed.
...Those men in our house, who were they? Why were they here? My father had few debts here and there but who and how much did he owe? Those men... they were too scary and that young man? He made my skin crawl.
My head threatened to blow up with questions that needed answers. I decided to feed my curiosity by eavesdropping to see what I could find. With slow and stealthy steps, I crept to the door that bordered the stairway and the living room. I placed my ear to listen if I could get wind of what they were discussing.
Just as I was about to open the door slightly, a cold hand suddenly grabbed my hand from the darkness, before I could scream, another hand went for my mouth. I kicked and struggled to let go but it was to no avail, so I relaxed hoping he would loosen his grip slightly which he did. I got the golden chance to hit him in the nuts the moment I freed my arm.
I hurriedly opened the door and alarmed my father. "Padre! There's a man in the house," I stopped to catch my breath. "He..he is trying to do something to me."
The man who had attacked me emerged while holding his crotch. He glared at me with hate and venom in his eyes. He didn't attempt to attack me again, but instead, he stepped aside into a corner. To my surprise, my father showed no reaction and sat still, his eyes fixed on the ground.
"Ah, mi Reina. I apologise for what my associate did. He may have misunderstood my instructions," the unfamiliar man said, flashing his nearly perfect white teeth. One tooth had been replaced with a gold one. "I hope he didn't harm you?"
I sucked in my breath and ignored him. "Padre, Tell me what is going on. I demand an answer!" I immediately regretted my outburst. For the first time in 20 years, I raised my voice at my father.
He only shook his head and muttered. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry it has to end this way. Forgive me."
I still failed to understand what he was driving at until two men held me by both hands. It was then it dawned on me that my father had sold me out. My survival instincts kicked in and I thrashed around, seeking my freedom from these cruel men.
...The door. If I could get to it, I'd run away as fast as my legs would carry me.
I sank my teeth in one of the men's arms, he yelled and let go of me in pain. With a swift jerk of my head, I cracked my skull against the other captor's nose. Now free, I made a run for the door but I didn't get far, a burly man suddenly appeared in my way, blocking my escape path.
I found myself surrounded. I pulled a long hairpin from my hair and brandished it at anyone who tried to approach me. Then, the "strange" man came over and stopped a few metres away from where I stood. "My love, don't make this hard. Drop it," he said.
He had a really strong Spanish tone that made my tummy churn.
The smirk that seemed to have etched on his face had now disappeared.
"No. Here's what I'm going to do." I hissed. "I'm going to walk through that door and neither you nor your men are going to stop me. You hear me?"
"Okay. Okay, I hear you." A smile danced on the man's lips, his eyes raging with ecstasy. He held his hand up and the men stopped and stepped back. I relaxed a little but didn't let my guard down. With my eyes on the man and his men, I moved closer to the door and opened it. I slipped through with my back facing outside, so I kept my eyes on them.
Once I was outside, I bolted in the opposite direction hoping no one would chase me but I was wrong. I heard a sharp piercing sound from behind and then something hit me, sending searing pain around my back. My movements are suddenly slow and my legs feel wobbly.
I've been tranquillised. My vision began to blur and I fell to the ground like a sack. I tried to stand but I couldn't. I sensed someone walking towards me and squatting. Although I couldn't see him clearly, I could make out his features, the "strange" man.
"I tried to warn you and now," he paused. "Look at you."
"Fuck you, pendejo!" I spat at him and weakly fell back.
"Alright. We'll talk some other time." He rose to an upright position, leaving me on the cold road. I was carried and thrown into the back of a van, presumably the one I saw earlier when I returned from work. Slowly, I lost to the drug shot into me and my world turned black.
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