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Eloise Hammond

THE STOCKYARDS.

That had to be the place.

My grip was so tight on the steering wheel, I worried I’d rip it off. I forced myself to relax my hands and for a moment allowed my mind to drift, tried to let the rotation of the tires soothe me.

As I drove, I looked at the scenery I had seen so many times before but never really noticed.

The trees in the median, the tall buildings in the distance.

I thought of Kayla and how much she loved to go to the roof of the tallest building she could find in a given city.

She didn’t know I knew that, but I’d followed her once.

It wasn’t uncommon for her to sneak off alone, and I’d wanted to know why. So I’d tailed her to downtown Toronto and followed her up to the top of the CN Tower.

She’d looked so peaceful, so serene as she’d stared out over the city. I’d wanted that for myself, the peace, the serenity that I knew she would bring.

Knew she would never give it to me and had been so angry at that realization, I’d wanted nothing more than to punish her.

I’d done just that, and over the next couple of months, I’d driven Kayla so relentlessly, I’d been sure she would leave.

Or try to, anyway.

Because I wouldn’t have let her go.

Wouldn’t let her go now, either.

And I would not, ever, ever, let her be harmed by the hands of another.

Which was why I had to put the panic, the fear of what my father might do, the question of what I might be forced to do aside and focus on getting her back.

As I drove, I replayed the video call over and over in my mind, trying not to be distracted of the memory of Kayla tied to that fucking chair and instead think about the clues.

And each time I scrubbed my memory and replayed every second of that call, the conclusion was the same.

The piece of metal I’d spotted in the corner could only have come from one place.

Joseph E Tacelli

The Devil's Debt

The Devil's Debt 2

I BROUGHT the SUV to a stop but not directly in front of the house like I would have any other time.

On an ordinary day, I would turn into the driveway directly behind my mother’s car and risk getting fussed at for blocking her in.

But today wasn’t an ordinary day.

I wondered if I would ever have another ordinary day again.

Tears started to well in my eyes, but none fell.

I wished they would.

Even tried to force them out.

Crying a river of tears would have been preferable to what I was feeling now.

Which was absolutely nothing.

Since I had heard that shot, then the click, it felt like I was floating above myself, looking down like a passive observer as my body had moved.

Even seeing Elias had been…

I didn’t have words for it.

I’d been angry, I guessed.

Maybe hurt?

That sounded right.

But the overriding feeling had been nothing but numbness. If you could call numbness a feeling.

Even when he had argued with me.

Even when he had shown more emotion than I had never seen from him before, I was unable to react.

Intellectually, I understood that it was probably shock.

My brain’s way of giving my heart a chance to catch up.

But even that seemed distant, like some idea that existed outside of me.

One thing I could feel was the chill in the air.

I snuggled deeper into my long-sleeve shirt, but not before I remembered who had gotten it for me.

The literal shirt on my back.

It belonged to Elias.

Was one of the trinkets I had received in exchange for my father’s life.

I sat up in the seat at that thought.

Of course, that didn’t help either.

The Devil's Debt 3

When Elias Petrosyan arrived to claim the debt my family owed, he left me with a single, brutal ultimatum: pay the price or watch my father die.

It wasn’t a choice. It was a sentence.

Now, I’m his.

For years, I’ve clung to every moment and hoarded every penny, counting down to the day I can finally break free. Hatred has been my fuel—the fire that keeps me going against the man who owns me, body and soul.

At least, I tell myself it’s hatred.

He shattered my world, threatened everything I’ve ever loved.

It has to be hate.

Doesn’t it?

The Devil's Debt - La série de livres

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