Sexmate ON GOING! [ENGLISH]

Chapter 15 - Abduction

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Hana's Point Of View

I sat on the couch,

With my breath giving a hard time to think of my next move,

My conscious mind telling me to calm down, even if I know to myself that I might be in trouble with the man who was lurking outside the house,

I have to hide.

But I am too weak to do so,

I reached for the phone that I left on kitchen counter,

I paled as my thumb browse the contacts, upon seeing Marco's name in it,

I felt weaker than ever, when I threw everything that I ate,

What's happening to me?

I trembled, confused physically and emotionally, as this day goes longer every passing seconds.

Panic and anxiety is swallowing me,

My shivering thumb pressed the call on the phone and it's started connecting,

My eyes kept on pacing on the door and the window,

Either way they'll barge in,

As my palm gripped on the kitchen counter,

Watching and waiting, horrified.

My tears started pouring out, as my lips quiver in fear reluctantly.

I felt sicker, dehydrated, I can feel my cold sweat trailing on my forehead,

As I breath rapidly, exhaling sharply,

when I felt my heart sank knowing that Marco didn't answer my call, 

At the time when I needed him the most.

I felt a huge disappointment, regret and despair.

No I shouldn't be blaming nor hoping from him to answer back, I have to make a plan I have to get out of this situation,

I bit my lips only to try my best to think of a way out,

But I had none, it's either I'll leave this house or call Marco.

No one can help me,

I can't put Lucy into this trouble.

Marco is unreachable,

And I'm hopeless.

As my faith started to falter, I slowly sat on the cold ground, gripping my phone,

I winced from fear, but then I heard the car drove away, hopefully he left without any suspicion.

A leapt of faith I felt when he left.

I gasped in a small relief, then I started dialing Marco's number again, hoping that he will answer,

I gulped every rings my phone takes,

A little hope that I'm building up again.

I have to leave.

I have to leave, incase Marco never came nor answer my call.

Sweating, I felt my hands went numb when Marco's phone is out of reach again.

This cannot be happening.

Please. . .

My cold fingertips felt the screen of my phone and started typing a text message to Marco,

'I need you, Marco. Wherever you are, I think I might be in trouble, so are you. Please be careful.'

I typed my last message, my last hurrah,

When I was about to turn off my phone, it started vibrating, to see a familiar number displaying on my screen,

Only it wasn't Lucy's, nor any of Marco's new number.

It's Jones's . . .

He handed me his calling card before.

So now I remembered that this is his number.

No.

I can't answer to him, 

Of all this danger, he might've been the one who sent this man,

My phone stops ringing, then it vibrates, expectingly I thought it was Marco who texted me.

It was Jones.

Telling me to leave the house immediately,

I can't just trust him just like that!

But I know to myself that I have no choice but to follow his lead.

I inhaled deeply, focusing my 

decision that I'm about to make.

Okay, 

It will be alright,

I'm sorry Marco, but I have to leave.

Marco knows him.

So I figured that it's going to be alright.

As I stood up with my remaining strength, I laid my phone on the table by the couch.

And dragged my feet towards the door,

I have decided to myself to leave this place, even if I have nowhere to go,

I don't want to be a burden to anyone,

To Marco.

I'll leave for his sake---

As my hands reaches at the door knob,

Suddenly,

It bursted open,

My eyes widened, the once sturdy door broke into pieces, sending me an explosion, that made me tumbled and slid on the cold ground, my body crashing in pain, followed by a white noise ringing in my ear.

My head hit hard on the ground, electrifying me in agony, As I slowly lose my consciousness,

So is my senses from all that is happening.

My eyes weakened, closing slowly only to see a bright light, with men in their suits,

Dragging my limp body,

Taking me away as they murmured words that I couldn't understand.

This is not happening. . 

My weak body failed me to even fight, to even respond from what my mind kept on telling me.

To fight back,

Because I know,

That it's too late.

I am in danger now,

And so is Marco.

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Marco Anderson's Point Of View

The night before Hana's abduction. . .

They threw me inside my office shoving me on the ground, but I didn't fought back,

I closed my eyes thinking about how humiliating it is to see myself faltering from my father's will.

They left my office after they spitted on me when I didn't moved a muscle.

My fist clenched on the ground, as I got on my feet, feeling empty inside.

I have no fight, I have no power against my father.

Weakling.

I never changed.

I hissed, as I slowly lose my composure.

I need to escape this. But by escaping means losing everything, every penny, all my accounts, my position, my reputation will be all thrown out.

Just because I fell in love with a prostitute.

I scoffed, gasping for air, with my blood all dried up, chuckling as I cried bitter tears.

Only if I was shown the love that I needed, I'll be more human, I'll be more of a better man,

Than of my father.

I winced in exasperation, disappointed of my undoings, as I help myself to stand on my feet.

I walked towards my desk in which the only thing that is lighting up my pathway is the city lights coming from my huge windows,

If civilized words won't do, then this will.

My hands reached for the locked drawer, unlocking it with the small key that I hid under my sleeves,

--My only remaing escape.

I felt my gun, A-A magnum. Hidden under my drawer.

One bullet for a one certain person.

I'm no killer and I'm not desperate to do so.

Only it's my escape. My mother gave me this gun years ago.

She told me to defend myself no matter what and never, never used it on my advantage.

I sat on my couch, as I held tightly on my gun filling up the magazine with more bullets, then my mind started to wander, remembering what my mother told me. 

'I'm not asking you to be a murderer, the only use of this gun--is for your escape. Use it wisely.'

I scoffed laughingly, feeling vulnerable upon remembering how my mother's voice sounds like.

Who would've have said that to their son? Handing out a gun?

I was confused when I was young, but as I grew up without my mother, I saw how dangerous my father was.

So I kept it hidden.

My father, Richard Anderson, is a very powerful man, he'll do everything just to manipulate the authorities with a snap of his fingers,

To turn the table against his only begotten son.

I stood up, feeling heavy and all weakened, seemed like having violence with my father is not good enough. The only thing he is capable of-- violence.

I walked towards my desk, and sat on my office chair,

I spinned my chair to face the city lights gleaming in the dark like stars had fallen in this chaotic city.

I frowned, seeing my reflection on the window, even though I looked merely transparent, I can still see the face that I hated the most.

Myself.

More of like my father.

Not by blood but by fate.

I held my gun by my chest, to see myself in my reflection that I'm slowly pointing it on the side of my forehead,

Should I?

Wouldn't it be dramatic if I die just like this?

I smiled bitterly, as I dropped my gun on my desk, clearing off my head with every breath I take.

Death is not an escape.

That's what Jones told me.

No wonder he bares the burden of his own past, accompanied by his mental illnesses. He still chose to move on, when he's the only person that is alive and willing to strive hard for the gratifying name of Ronin.

I adore you, Jones.

But we're a different man in the same story.

I started sorting out my things, thinking about resigning and living on my own,

There's nothing to chase anymore. Either I'll be swallowed whole with my father's authority, or leave this hell haven that he built.

I have nothing to gain from him. From anything he has ever placed under my name for the sake of inheritance.

What choice do I have?

I exhaled sharply, feeling my shoulder heavied from all the work I did after sorting out my stuffs, resting my back on my office chair's frame.

Then my vision fell on the white folder that is neatly placed on my desk.

My fingers felt the smooth texture before opening it with my heart shallowly thumping.

Curious of what I am about to find out,

Only to see my name first written on it.

'Marco Anderson's final testament.'

'Under Richard Anderson will of petition against. . '

'His only son.'

Air escaped from my lips, looking thoroughly at the paper, sealed under Anderson's embassy, to be viewed by the court and authorities.

My eyes immediately scanned on the writings, feeling alarmed, vulnerable and cautious.

Then it hit me.

It became clear to me.

The testament had acknowledged that I had committed various crimes that includes human-trafficking, homicide, gambling, corruption and so on.

It's like my name is tainted.

According to this testament I'm already a complete criminal.

That bastard.

He's framing me.

Putting all his deeds under my damn name!

I slammed both of my palm on the desk, muttering in curses,

"f**k, f**k. . . Fuck." 

I brushed my swelling palm on my face, 

He's disposing me, 

It's because I had found something that I wasn't supposed to know. He's falling apart, and he wants me to bear the fall.

I felt my heart heavied, drumming in vexation and terror.

He's getting behind me, 

I prepared my gun once again, counting the bullets I putted in as I hid it deep inside my tuxedo sleeves, wincing from all the bad deeds that might happened once hand felt the trigger again.

I eyed on my phone at the edge of my desk and I drastically grasped it, to see Hana called me two times in a row and hour ago.

Shit.

I hissed, feeling a sharp pain in my head, knowing that he already bit me off by stalking Hana.

Hana,

Hana...!

My mind screamed off her name, my thumb quivered as I hesitate to press the call button,

This is all my fault, 

I was so distracted, for a petty provocation against my father.

The door suddenly burst open, security guards on their suit code came rushing in, surrounding me.

"Drop the phone, Sir." One of them spoke up as I held both of my hands in the air, while my other hand is holding my phone, about to call Hana only it was interrupted by their arrest.

Such bullshit.

He's sentencing me to death by holding me captive as his main course and Hana as his prey.

My phone slipped from my hand , I grunted as my arms sore when they swiftly handcuffed both of my wrists.

"Marco Anderson, you are under arrest," one of the security guard who's wearing a shade speak up,

I gritted my teeth, putting up all my strength for them not to drag me away like a hostage.

Then my eyes directed on the picture frame of me and father at my younger age,

Beaming a burning glare when I saw his lips curling into a feign smile, with me smiling back innocently,

I scoffed laughingly, just to think about the broken memories I had makes me want to puke.

Oh, father.

What a show.

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   thank you for reading

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