Chapter 5
1134 Words
JESSICA BERKELEY.
My heart jumps on my throat, my legs tremble for fear of the intruder's grip on me. His huge figure hovers over me, his grip around my both hands was strong and firm.
Catching a glimpse of his eyes, they were dark and cold. In defense, I drive my knee down his waist, hitting him where the sun doesn't shine. He groans, letting go of my arms.
Quickly, I grab a metal rod by the side and aim it at him as a threat even though I was visibly shaking.
"Intruder! Stay where you are, don't move. The police are on their way" I threaten.
He straightens up himself, pulls off the facemask he wore over his head and begins to move steadily but calculatively towards me.
Each step he takes, my chest tightens, my grip around the rod grows tighter and it leaves me wondering if he isn't moved by the fact that I'd called the police.
"Stay back" I warn. He smirks, not stopping. "I can do anything with this rod in my hand. I'm quite strong"
In a blink of an eye, he knocks the rod over and away from my hold. I startle at the loud thud while he remains unflinching.
"Do I look like a thief to you?" He questions in his deep and hoarse voice.
"If you aren't a thief, then what are you?"
He takes out his wallet and pulls out an ID card before me.
"I'm a debt collector, not a thief. A biker if you want to be specific"
I narrow my eyes, taking every detail in it.
"Devin Bowen?" I mutter. He shoves the card back in his wallet.
"Let's talk in the living room" He moves past me, heading out of the hallway. I remain standing, trying to calm myself.
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Worn brown leather jacket, fitted durable black jeans, a t-shirt tucked in and heavy duty boots - laced. Fingerless gloves, a chain necklace around his neck and a silver earring on his left ear.
I took note of every single detail of him and I still find it hard to believe he's a biker and not a thief. His clothing features are that of a typical bad boy and I'm pretty sure he's well harmed with guns or sharp knives.
"When you're done staring, we can get down to business" His voice jolts me out of my thoughts.
I straighten up and clear my throat.
"You said you're not a thief. What business do you have with this cottage if you're just a biker?"
"What else? To collect back the debt owed by this cottage"
I raise a brow.
"This cottage?" His sharp gaze pierces into mine. "Perhaps, you're mistaken. This cottage belongs to the Berkeley's and there is no pending debt whatsoever"
"You think so?"
"I don't just think so, I know so" I say with confidence.
A faint cocky smirk appears on his lips - Just briefly because his expression went back to being cold and intimidating.
"Isn't the cottage owner, Edwin Berkeley?"
I hesitate for a moment before responding.
"He's my father"
"Where is he? I'd love to speak with him directly"
"You can speak with me. I'm his daughter, you can't speak with him, because.. he's dead already" I mumble the last part, fumbling with the tip of my dress.
His eyes narrowed at me. "Very well then, I guess you have to pay up the debts in his place"
I scoff. "We owe nothing. If we did, I'm sure my father would have told me"
"But he didn't"
I raise a brow. "What proof do you have?"
"You want proof?"
"Show me"
He pulls out some papers from his jacket, unfolds and dumps them on the table before us.
I didn't want to believe my eyes but the document says it all. Father owes a huge debt and the clock is ticking. The deadline for payment is boldly written there or else I'd have to give up the cottage.
The biker guy snatches the paper from me, folds it back into his jacket and stands to his feet.
"I believe you have answers to your questions now... or rather, doubts. If there is nothing else, then I.."
"Isn't there something I can do? I mean, they have to be something" I cut him off.
"Sure. There is something you can do, Ms.." He trails off, tucking his hands into his pants.
"Jessica.." I say, moving some strands of my hair behind my ears. "Jessica Berkeley"
"Well, Ms. Jessica Berkeley, you can pay off your father's debt before it is overdue or this cottage... becomes rightfully ours"
"No!" I sprang to my feet. "No, that can't happen"
He takes a step closer. "Of course it will"
"Mr. Devin, can we talk about this calmly? I know my father owes a debt, I mean, I only just found out now. That being said, I ask for more time. I need to work on some things, raise funds and settle the debt. All I'm asking is an extension of the deadline. It can't be January"
"There will be no extension.Your father knew that before signing the papers"
"Please.." I inhale deeply, hoping I can at least convince him somehow to give me a little more time.
"This cottage inn means a lot to me, Mr. Devin. I just got here barely six hours ago and I can't bear to accept the fact that I'll lose a Christmas cottage inn that holds so many memories of my family over a debt.. I'm pretty sure the neighbors are anticipating a fun filled Christmas season in this cottage and I ..."
"Enough talk about Christmas" He cuts in with a snap. "I don't care about your silly Christmas plans or your memories whatsoever about this old rusty cottage. Do the needful Ms. Berkeley, you don't want to default.."
He stares daringly at me and my brows fold into a deep frown. First, he speaks of the cottage like it's some meaningless piece of property, and next, he dismisses the talk about Christmas like he's some sort of villain against Christmas.
And I hate the fact that he thinks so less of the festive season. But, £200,000 is a whole lot. How do I pay the debt in such a limited time?
Suddenly, a heavy wind sweeps across the room, throwing the windows and doors open. Quickly, I rush over and hold the windows in place, closing them shut.
Devin rushes over, moving the curtains aside and looking out. The snowstorm has begun, the clouds have gone darker, an eerie greenish hue creeping over the horizon. A wall of cold air slams in and the breeze howling like a beast.
"It's the blizzard" I mumble, watching the aggressive rush of the snowstorm.
- Writer
