Protector

Man With the Scar

Amelia's POV

I woke up the next morning. I rolled over and looked at the clock, it was 10 am. I slept late. I turned over and Jackson was not there. He never came to bed last night. I get out of the bed. All my clothes were washed and folded on the dresser. He must have done all my clothes last night while he was awake.

I put on a pair of shorts and a tank top. I go downstairs. Jackson is in the kitchen writing on a piece of paper. He looks up at me.

"I am going into town to get a few things. We are almost out of groceries and I need to get a few more things to wear." He says. "Write on here if there is anything you want."

"Can I come?" I ask.

"No. After yesterday, you need to lay low for a while. I can't have you spotted. You are safe here." he says.

"Please," I beg.

"No. Now, write your list."

"Fine," I replied, frustrated.

I grab the paper and pen. I write a few things on it.

"I'll be back in a couple of hours." he grabs the keys.

I walk up to him and wrap my arms around him. "Please be safe," I tell him.

"I will." he says, his hands placed on my waist, clenching his jaw.

I let him go and he heads out the door.

As I wait for Jackson to return, the minutes drag on, the house feels so quiet without him. I walk around the house and pick up a few things. It is twelve. He has been gone for two hours. My stomach growling I realized I needed some food. I walk to the kitchen. We only had leftovers. I grab the leftover casserole from yesterday. Jackson had made a corn casserole. It was so good.

All of a sudden there is a knock at the door. Who would be here? How did they get through the gate? I put my fork down and walked to the window. There is a guy in a UPS uniform.

"Hello," he says.

"Hi," I reply.

"Can you sign for this package?"

"I didn't order anything. How did you get passed the gate?" I ask, confused.

He looks around. "Is anyone else here?" he asks.

"Yes. He is in the kitchen." I lie, having a feeling something is very wrong. The man looks around. He grabs me by the arm.

"You need to come with me," he says.

"Why?" I ask, my heart racing in my chest.

"Your father needs you." he demands.

"Let me call him," I insist, trying to buy some time.

"No," he growls, pulling out a gun.

"Jackson!" I scream.

"Shut up," he threatens, pushing the barrel of the gun against my temple.

"Now, let's go," he orders, his grip tightening on my arm. As he drags me out the front door, I see the black sedan we saw yesterday at the farmers market. He must have been waiting for a chance. How did he find us?

He drags me to the car and pushes me in the backseat. He gets in the car and pulls away.

"You don't have to do this," I plead, my voice trembling.

"Be quiet," he orders, his words laced with venom.

"I want to speak to my father," I demand.

Your father fucked us over. He is going to know what it feels like.

"What are you talking about?" I ask, confused.

"Your dad stole from our boss," he sneers.

"I didn't know," I explain.

"Of course, you didn't," he scoffs, his words dripping with disdain.

"Let me go," I plead, the reality of the situation sinking in.

"Not a chance," he growls, his tone laced with anger.

As the miles stretch before us, the weight of his words pressing down on me, the only thought echoing in my mind.

I'm in trouble.

After what felt like forever, we pulled up to this abandoned warehouse. We pulled inside and parked. He grabbed me out of the car and dragged me in. As soon as we get in, I see three other men all armed.

"Boss, we got her," the man holding me said.

A tall, imposing man with a scar running down his face walked up to me.

"Hello Amelia," he said, his voice laced with malice.

"I'm not going to tell you anything," I declared, my voice filled with defiance.

"That is fine, we don't need you to." he says. "We just need you to shut up, and look pretty for us."

"Let me go!" I scream, trying to break free.

"Stop fighting," he orders, his tone firm.

"Tie her to that bed over there, that is where she can stay until we figure out what needs to be done." the man says.

"Yes, boss."

He drags me to the bed and ties me down.

"Leave us," he commands, his voice ringing out in the silence.

"Yes, boss."

"You are going to pay for what your father did," he sneers, his words dripping with venom.

"I didn't do anything," I protest, my voice trembling.

"We know your dad hired some big-name bodyguard for you. He will try to come looking for you. When he does, we will kill him, and then you will watch."

"You're a monster," I hiss, the weight of his words pressing down on me.

"You haven't seen anything yet," he growls, the threat hanging in the air.

"Don't worry, we will have some fun before we kill you," he says, his gaze sweeping over my body.

"Just let me go," I beg, my voice barely above a whisper.

"It's not going to happen," he sneers, the rage boiling in his eyes.

"Please," I implore, tears streaming down my cheeks.

"Shut the fuck up," he demands, the rage boiling in his eyes.

I lay there, the ropes cutting into my skin, the silence pressing down on me. As the night stretches on, the darkness enveloping me, one thought echoes in my mind.