CHAPTER 17

WHERE IS SHE?

There was an eerie feeling of confusion inside the motel room. Mr. Grant was there alongside Abel. The commotion in the parking lot had caught their attention.

“Boys, go check out what the noise is about.” Abel delivered his orders with such injunction that it was admirable.

He carried his pride around intact, giving no room for his authority to be questioned. His dressing hinted at his status; the designs had no imprint, they just screamed money.

His strong cologne filled the room before he arrived and lingered long after his departure. Mr. Grant felt menial beside him; he was a nobody here. No one knew his name, and no one cared to.

The men wasted no time striding out of the room properly armed. The news of his daughter’s successful capture had shocked him. He was ominous as to whether everything would work out with that billionaire in the picture.

He was now closer to his daughter than he had been for the months he was there. He wondered if she understood what she meant to him. She was all he had, and he would do anything to ensure he was all she had.

The men got outside to find their colleague writhing in pain; he was struggling to get on his feet. He pointed in the direction their prey ran off to.

“That bitch escaped!” The words were uttered with such wrath.

Two of the men ran in the direction pointed out, while one stayed back to help the wounded man. It was pitch dark at that hour, and the thicket obscured any light that could reach the men on the chase.

They followed their sense of direction, hopeful to be on the same path as the girl was. She was nowhere in sight.

Savannah was trying her best to get as far away as she could. She could feel her legs become more fibble, something that terrified her.

She had already stumbled numerous times, her scarred legs a blueprint of her resilience. Her ankle was the only thing that could let her down in that moment, as it had begun swelling as it had all those years ago.

Her ankle’s refusal to heal forced her out of her favorite sport, track, a sport she had been fond of since childhood.

The droplets of sweat on her face were illuminated by the moonlight that hit her face perfectly. She was straining to breathe normally, heaving loudly as she went on.

She kept taking turns, hoping to throw off whoever tried to chase her. Worry engulfed her as she realized just how lost she was in a strange thicket surrounded by darkness.

Savannah held onto her knees, trying her best to catch her breath before she continued running. She looked up at the full moon and felt hot tears freely flow down her cheeks.

Would she make it out of there alive? Where was she going?

She had no idea, and that threatened her. Her recently gained confidence that she could get out of there alive fizzled as the sound of crickets became louder.

The wind hit the bushes’ leaves, causing them to follow it. The ruffling of the leaves alone was enough to scare anyone in that darkness.

The fear that now consumed her was not unfamiliar to her at all. It was the feeling she had endured for a long time. She was owned, watched, and controlled.

All alone in an unknown place, she was massaging her swollen ankle while allowing the pent-up tears to flow out of their canals.

{YEARS BACK}

Savannah was beaming with happiness on her eighteenth birthday. Her lavish party was attended by influential names.

This was, of course, intentional, as Mr. Grant planned to use his role as a father to a youth. He was launching a new political party and wanted everyone to know it was meant for the youth.

He wanted to empower and nurture them as he had his adopted son, future son-in-law, Tyson Brighton. Being a father to a youth himself, he forced the impression on people that he knew what they wanted and would deliver.

For Tyson, however, the day was more than just a birthday or the day he officially joined politics; it was the day he popped her cherry.

He looked at Savannah from across the room with a possessiveness that she had grown to find repulsing. What made it worse was how her father encouraged it.

“You are his future wife, young lady. It makes sense why he would feel that way.”

Those were the only words he would distractedly spew out whenever she spoke up. Not even her father felt the need to protect her.

The party was successful, for Mr. Grant at least. He knew the articles would be flooded with his name the next day.

Savannah took off her luxurious corseted dress the moment she got into her room. She had already kicked off her heels before climbing up the stairs.

She allowed the scorching hot water to hit her filthy body that needed cleansing. Her night showers were the best part of her day.

She never heard her bedroom door open. It was only when a butt naked Tyson walked into the bathroom that she became aware of his presence.

He joined her in the shower while she was already too stunned to say a word. As he made his advances, she repeatedly turned him down. Still, he persisted. It was just the two of them in there.

He would get whatever he wanted, either way. Besides, they were already naked together in the shower; who would believe her?

That was how her refusal turned into yielding to what was asked of her. Tyson got what he had always wanted that night.

Savannah remained in the shower for a long time after he left. No matter how many times she scrubbed or rinsed off, the disgust she felt never went away.

The deed was done, and there was no way of erasing it. She felt stained; she belonged to him now.

****

“What the hell?!! You had one job, you imbecile!”

Everyone watched silently as the Angel of Death stood over the man who had allowed Savannah to escape. He was a lion about to pounce on his prey.

His eyes loomed over him with a grimace on his intimidating face. The scars on his face indicated an unfamiliar danger. This was not a man to be messed with.

“Pray to your ancestors that they get the girl, or else!” He was looking him straight in the eye.

He walked towards the table with expensive bottles of wine and picked up a bottle. He admired it with an intense smile, his lips seemed to draw out some words only he knew.

The men in the room stared at him skeptically. He threw it across the room directly towards the wall that the man was leaning on.

If they feared him before, they most definitely did now. He walked out casually, seemingly to get fresh air.