Becoming a DeMarlo

1: "What do you want?"

Chapter 1: "What do you want?"

My head pounded against something hard. Then my shoulder. Then my entire body rolled over a few times before banging into something even harder. 

A muffled groan tore out of me as I forced my eyes open. For a second, all I saw was darkness and the blur of passing light. Then the world steadied enough for me to realize I was lying on my side, bound at the wrists and ankles, in the back of a moving van.

I twisted my wrists, but the rope only bit harder into my skin. Bristly white fibres scraped against my ankles, already rubbed raw from every sharp turn and sudden stop. Whoever had tied me up knew what they were doing.

I seemed to be in the back of a van — an expensive-looking van, that is. The seats in front of me were plush leather, and the windows looked to be tinted. 

Great. I had the sinking feeling in my stomach that these people were experienced. 

Trying my level best not to panic, I pushed myself up just enough to try and get a look at whoever was driving the car. 

A tall man sat behind the wheel, one hand draped casually over the steering wheel like he wasn't transporting a tied-up seventeen-year-old girl in the back of his van. I couldn't recognize him. 

I moved back down and winced as memories of the events that had occurred returned. 

My best friend Nicole and I were shopping at the mall when Winston, one of the family bodyguards, pulled me aside to tell me that we needed to leave, ASAP. 

I didn't waste any time to ask him why. If Winston was personally intervening, it had to be something serious. 

He motioned for me to follow him, as he led Nicole and I out of the store. 

All of a sudden, loud gunshots erupted throughout the mall. Winston shouted for us to hide, as he pulled out his own handgun. 

We didn't waste a second. 

We pushed our way through the crowds of people who had finally realized the state of emergency we were all in. They were all running for the mall exits, screaming and shouting. 

I pulled Nicole along with me into the women's bathroom, only to stop in my tracks, blocked by the masked, broad-shouldered man waiting for us. 

"Aw," he said, his voice curling with amusement. "Pretty damn predictable for the daughter of a criminal."

Daughter of a criminal?

How did he know me?

We spun around to run for the exit, only to be met by another goon. 

"L-Look, you don't know what you're doing. Stay away," I had warned, my voice pathetically wavering. 

"That's awfully cute. But no can do, missy," he replied, his voice husky. 

Within a split second, the first man grabbed hold of Nicole, resulting in a piercing shriek. 

I moved to help her, but was immediately caught by Goon #2. He delivered a hard blow to my head, which was the last thing I remembered before waking up in this van. 

I let out another muffled groan as the car sped over a large bump, causing me to roll back and bang into another part of the car. 

I was so sore, I was ready to personally harm whoever's plan this was. 

To my utmost misery, the car ride continued, and I helplessly rolled back and forth. 

I couldn't guarantee that Dad would be ordering his men to look for me. I sure hoped so.