Loving My Father's Killer

CHAPTER 4: CHOICES

Naya's POV

A cold bucket of water was the first thing that I felt on my skin. I gasped immediately, as I raised my head, struggling to breathe. My mouth tasted like blood.

Someone seemed to disappear in the shadows, and my skin was already crawling before my brain even registered where I was. it felt like I was half-conscious for some reason. I hated the feeling.

I could barely think straight. Not when a banging headache attacked my head at the same time. I was so f****d.

I forced myself to blink hard. At the same time, I was struggling to get my hands to my head. I was f*****g tied up.

This was how people disappeared. Their families looked for them, the police tried to find them, and then the case is abandoned.

“Easy, kitty,” a cool voice suddenly said, making me freeze. I finally got a look at the person right in front of me.

It was the man from the club. Zade.

But I was nowhere near the club. A single bulb was right above my head, illuminating the room with little light. The smell of petrol hit my nose, and I took in the sight of the boxes that were around.

I could see the oil on the floor, and for just a second, I saw the splatters of liquid on the wall. Dark liquid.

My stomach turned at the thought of what it might be.

On the other side of the room, chains hung from the walls. Yes, I was dead meat.

“What do you want with me? And where am I?” I asked Zade, as I pulled against the rope.

“You broke into my lounge,” he said.

“No, I didn't,” I said in the sweetest voice I could muster, even if there was sweat dripping down my back. “Your bouncer escorted me in.”

Did I ever think that I was going to be sitting face-to-face with my father's killer one day? No. But there I was anyway.

He leaned back in his chair, with his thumb stroking his chin. “And you had to lie about your name. How ironic.”

I fought against the rope even more. “Let me f*****g go!” I screamed, making my throat burn.

“Or what?” He asked, suddenly feigning shock. “You'll call daddy?” He clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth. “Oh, wait. He's dead.”

The words stung more than they were supposed to. But they were true. Everything in me wanted to ask him questions. I wanted to know why he killled my dad. What history they had.

But I bit the words back anyway. I wasn't there to get the truth from him. I wasn't there to ask him why he did what he did. I was there strictly for revenge. And if I was going to be stuck in a petrol-smelling room just to get that, then so be it.

“Where are we?” I asked, trying as much as I could, not to let my head fall forward. My neck hurt.

“In my basement,” he said calmly. “My men dropped you off.”

I swallowed hard. He suddenly got up, walking over to where I was seated. I didn't want to imagine the marks that would be on my skin from the rope digging into them.

As Zade stood in front of me, I tipped my chin. “Let me f*****g go. Now.”

He suddenly picked up a gun that I didn't know was right beside me. What if I had known? Would I have found a way to blow his brains off? Maybe.

The metal feel of the gun touched my chin, and Zade dragged it along my jaw, until he finally rested it right on my neck.

My heart was thudding fast in my chest. Like it was going to make its way out anytime soon.

“You can't just walk away from here,” Zade muttered under his breath. Somehow, his voice was still loud enough to bounce off the walls.

“Then what do you want?” I asked. For the first time since I saw him, my voice faltered. I noticed the smirk that immediately touched his lips. “Money? I can call my mom.”

He threw his head back, as he laughed. The sound was intimidating without him even trying. He suddenly leaned down, placing a hand on my thigh. “Do I look like I need money? You think I'll have you tied up here for that?”

The memory of all the money back at the club flashed in my head, making me wish I didn't even say anything.

I shook my head before I could even make sense of what he was saying. He suddenly placed a hand on my thigh, and the heat of his palm seemed to seep into my skin. I felt my stomach turn.

“You have a choice to make before you leave, Naya,” he said. He suddenly walked towards my back.

He knew my name. He didn't believe my little story earlier.

“What?” I asked in a whisper. He nodded slowly, like he could see through my fear. He suddenly pulled away, holding on to one arm of the chair, before brushing hair away from my face from behind. I felt his fingers brush against mine, as he undid the rope. My fingers came free, and I didn't think twice before swinging my hand at him.

Wrong choice. He caught it effortlessly, and I didn't think twice, before spitting on him. My eyes widened as the liquid dripped down his face. For some reason, he didn't even look shocked.

Fuck, f**k, f**k. What did I just do?

He slowly wiped my saliva from his face. “Interesting,” he smirked. "A part of me already expected you to fight back.

What the f**k was he talking about? And why now?

Zade looked down at the gun one more time, and then back up at me. “You have two things…” he started. “You either leave here as my wife… or as a corpse.”