Authors: Samantha Harrington
Obsession
Obsession
Copyright © 2015 by Samantha Harrington
First publication: September 2015
Samantha Harrington
www.samanthaharringtonauthor.wordpress.com
All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
This book is a work fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locale or organisations is entirely coincidental. The author does not have any control over and does not assume responsibility for third party websites or their content.
Printed in the United States of America
First Printing, 2015
For my children - never give up. Always give it 110%, and know that I am proud of you all. You bring so much joy and love to my life. Never forget that, even when my head is in my laptop, I love you with all of my heart.
For my husband - for all the times you have pushed me to try when all I wanted was to stop.
You have cooked, cleaned and done the school run, then put all of our children to bed so I could stay up and write. Your support has never wavered through the good and the bad, the ups and downs.
For Mum and Dad who taught me about life and love, who always told me to work hard and never give up - without you both I would not be where I am today.
For my best friend, Charlie, your constant reading and the truth you tell me, for the times when I think I can’t go on and write one more word, you are there every step of the way. You’re always there whenever I need you, on the phone or in person. What more could a girl want in a friend?
This book would not be possible without your love and support. xxx
The smell is different when I wake, it’s putrid. I cover my nose with my hand to stop the bile that rises in my throat.
I look around and I can see that I’m not in my room; wherever I am is cold and devoid of furniture. I can barely see my surroundings in the dim light. In the sparse room is the bed that I am sat on, a bucket in the corner and a chair; the door is on the other side of the small room. Gingerly, I start to get out of the bed placing my bare feet on the cold stone floor. The room is dark with only a small window which doesn’t give off much light and the walls are really dirty. I make my way slowly over to the door, as I attempt to turn the handle I realise that the door is locked.
Sitting back down on the bed, I try to think about how I got wherever here is.
Me and my friends had just finished our final exams and had decided to go out and have a laugh and a few drinks, guilt free now that exams are done with, no more late nights in the library studying, up at all hours writing essays. What I never expected that night was to be taken.
The arm that wrapped around my waist, the hand that clamped around my mouth. I didn’t feel his skin, just a cloth of some kind cover my mouth and nose. I tried screaming but it was no use, the world was fading. My last thought was of my family and friends, that feeling that I won’t ever see them again or tell them I love them.
I start to cry recalling the events that led me to be here, the tears slide down my cheeks, my chest is heavy with panic. Why me?
I hear the click of the lock, the handle starts to turn, I push myself as close to the wall as I can get, huddling in the corner as I wait for someone to enter. I can feel the panic start to rise, I don’t like this feeling of shear panic that is consuming me right now. I wait for whoever is going to come into the room my heart is racing, I feel my eyes burn as the tears threaten to fall again. The door opens and I can see the outline of a mountain of a man. He’s tall and broad, his shoulders look like they could carry the weight of the world. He steps towards me and my breaths become shallow and rapid. As he gets closer I take in more details, like the stubble that graces his face, the way his black t-shirt defines the power of his muscles. He looks like the villain in every story I’ve ever read, all in black with his cargo pants and heavy boots.
“Here you go,” he says to me walking over to the bed, I hadn’t seen the tray he was carrying, he places it on the bed. His voice rumbles through me, its deep and sensual, I swear I feel it coat my skin.
“Where am I? What do you want with me?” I hurl the questions at him not expecting an answer.
“It’s not you that we want Faith. You won’t be hurt as long as you behave yourself and don’t try anything stupid.” He watches me as it dawns on me that he knows my name.
“How do you know my name?” I don’t know where the steel in my voice comes from, I really hope it stays. “Who is it that you do want then?”
He turns back towards the door, but hesitates before leaving and turns back to me. “We know everything about you Faith, and it’s your father that we want. He owes us money, and if he doesn’t pay, well, then Faith, then you’re his payment.”
He walks out, closing and locking the door behind him, leaving me in my new cell.
My father is a business man. He wouldn’t owe money, he invests it. Well, as far as I know, but then, in my 24 years I’ve seen more of my boarding school than I have of my father.
I look down at the tray on the bed, there’s a bottle of water and a sandwich on a plate with a slice of apple. I’m so hungry that I don’t care if it’s days old . I tuck in and eat every last crumb, sipping the water to make it last. I don’t really relish the idea of peeing in a bucket.
I drift off to sleep hoping that this is just a misunderstanding and that I will be home as soon as possible.
The next few days are pretty much the same routine. Nothingness until they take me to a bathroom to have a wash, and give me clean clothes to wear. Considering that I’m being held against my will, I’m not being mistreated. I am extremely grateful for this, though I think that’s more down to Damien than anything to do with me. Damien is the guard who mainly looks after me. I think he’s the head honcho because everyone answers to him and no one does anything without his say so.
Damien comes into the room I’ve dubbed my cell. “Your father has declined to pay what he owes. He’s fully aware that we have you, and thinks that you are an exceptional payment to cover his debt.”
“WHAT THE FUCK! YOU CAN’T DO THIS TO ME.” I scream at him, jump off the bed and start pounding on his chest, tears streaming down my face; in this moment I realize that my dad does not love or care about me. I sag against Damien; his arms come around me holding me close to him.
“Shh, I won’t let anybody hurt you Faith,” he whispers into my ear.
I start to calm down, “What’s going to happen to me?” I whispered into his chest.
“Nothing bad will happen to you Faith, I’ll get you out of here, I swear.” his words were said lovingly to me as if he really did care. “Just bide your time for now while I come up with a plan to get us out of here.”
He places me on the bed, kisses the top of my head before leaving the room; I try not to dwell on the fact that he said us and kissed my head, but my tummy is a knotted mess.
All I know is that for now I’m still trapped in this room, and I can’t do a damned thing about it.