Gorgeous Chaos
Page 70

 T.K. Leigh

  • Background:
  • Text Font:
  • Text Size:
  • Line Height:
  • Line Break Height:
  • Frame:
Simon ran after Olivia, watching as she bolted up the remainder of the sandy path leading to the beach.
She desperately hoped that there would be some people out for a twilight stroll. Her eyes searched the shoreline frantically, remembering that it was a private beach, when she heard the gunshot. “AAAAGGGGHHHHH!” she screamed in pain, the bullet hitting her right shoulder. She fell to the ground, crying out.
Simon ran up and held the gun over her. “I’m so sorry. I tried to miss you without making it too obvious,” he said quietly, a tear falling from his eye as he looked at Olivia’s bleeding body lying on the white sand. He quickly changed his expression when Grant caught up to him and kicked Olivia hard in the stomach.
“FUCK!” she screamed, the sound of her ribs cracking making her want to vomit once more. The pain from the bullet wound and the unexpected assault to her stomach was overwhelming.
“You do not run away from us you fucking bitch!” Grant raised his boot and brought it down hard on her left foot, crushing the hundreds of tiny bones.
Olivia howled out in agony, her eyes growing wide when she saw him raise his boot again, intending to break her other foot, as well. “NO!” she screamed. “PLEASE STOP! I’LL DO ANYTHING!”
Grant slowed his action mid-strike and looked at her, rather turned on by the blood pouring from her body onto the beach.
“Anything?” he asked.
She took a deep breath and closed her eyes. She nodded slowly as tears began to stream down her face…no longer from being in pain, but for what she knew Grant was probably planning at that moment.
“Grant. You can’t do this to her,” Simon pleaded, trying to find a way to help her. He felt sick at the thought of Grant touching her. “There were very strict instructions. She is not to be harmed until you-know-who gets here.”
Grant reached into the duffel bag and withdrew a gun, pointing it at Simon. “What the fuck, man?”
Simon raised his own gun, aiming it at Grant instead of Olivia.
“I’m just having a little fun, that’s all. I’m not going to kill her…yet. And if you try to interfere again, I’ll fucking shoot you. Step aside and I won’t tell Donovan that you told her to run.” Grant returned to the duffel bag and produced several long rags. Kneeling next to Olivia as she lay trembling on the beach, he gently caressed her face, making her cringe. “That’s my girl,” he said quietly. “Be good and we won’t have to shoot you again, okay?”
Olivia opened her eyes, staring into the evil black eyes in front of her. She simply nodded, not wanting to speak.
“Good girl. But first, I need to make sure you won’t try to get away from me.” He quickly bound her hands together. “At least I’ve already made certain that you won’t be able to walk,” he laughed to himself.
Olivia began to cry, mourning the loss of her legs. She had no chance of running away anymore. Simon had tried to help her, but he would risk his own life if he did so again. Her only hope now was Alexander. She prayed that he would be able to figure out the clues she left for him.
“Before I forget, I know we’re having a special guest. Don’t want you recognizing who it is, so I better blindfold you, too.”
She shook her head violently, not wanting the one sense she needed most to be taken from her.
“Sorry, beautiful. Rules are rules.” Grant grabbed a rag and tied it tightly around her eyes.
Olivia’s world went dark. She would have to rely solely on her ears. She was doomed and she knew it. She screamed out in pain as Grant lifted her by the waist and dragged her body through the sand and up to the palatial beach house.
After overriding the security system, he turned to Simon. “Get out of here. Stand watch out front,” he growled.
“Grant. What are you going to do?” Simon asked, his voice shaking.
He raised his gun, pointing it at Simon’s temple. “Leave or I pull the trigger.”
Simon knew he didn’t have a choice. If he had any chance of trying to save Olivia, he had to play his cards right, and that meant listening to Grant for the time being. “Fine,” he huffed, spinning around and slamming the door behind him.
Grant smiled. “It will all be over soon. I promise.” He carried Olivia through the foyer. “We just need to wait for our special guest to get here and then you can tell us where that box is.”
Olivia willed herself to stop crying. That wasn’t how she wanted to spend the last few minutes of her life. If she was going to die, she wanted to die on her own terms and not pleading for her life.
“Wow. You should see this place,” he remarked as he dragged her into a large great room overlooking the coast. “Floor-to-ceiling ocean view in this room. I bet it’s gorgeous during the day.”
Olivia knew the exact room they were in. There was a grand piano in the center that she recalled playing as a little girl. The space was open and airy with light beige colored sofas on the far end facing the windows. The walls were wood planked and there were light drapes in front of the window. That’s how she remembered it looking, at least.
“Okay, this is good enough,” Grant said, his breathing heavy from dragging Olivia all that distance. He dropped her on the floor, hoping to cause her even more pain. When she had barely any reaction to being thrown down, he turned to look at her. Her face looked almost peaceful, as if she had begun to accept her fate.
That pissed Grant off. He liked it when she was scared of him. “Stand up!” he yelled.
Olivia started breathing heavy, thinking there would be no way she could actually stand up.
He walked over to her and grabbed her ponytail. “I said STAND UP!” he shouted, pulling Olivia up by the hair.
“FUCK!” she screamed out once she was on her feet. She tried to keep most of the weight off her left foot. She had no idea what was going through Grant’s head.
“On your knees!”
Olivia hesitated, unsure of how she could possibly obey the command and yet feel the least amount of pain.
“I said, ON YOUR KNEES!” He kicked her in the small of the back, causing her to topple over and fall flat on her stomach. Her reflexes were slow from her arms being bound together and she was unable to break her fall with her hands.
Olivia felt Grant kneel next to her. She began to shake, feeling his hot breath on her neck. He grabbed her arms and hoisted them over her head, readjusting her restraint, attaching it to the leg of the grand piano.