Stepbrother Kidnapped

-Tatiana-

I slapped my hands against the cool window and watched the house shrink behind us. Every light in the dining room still blazed. No one left to turn them off. No one left to do anything.

“Why them and not me?” I asked again. “I promise you I am of no use to you alive.”

Why do I have to beg to be killed. 

I don't want to be sold as a sex slave, Lord please. 

“You forgot my mother has a twin. If you’re wiping out the whole family tree, step-brother, you should probably finish the job. Or did you already handle her too?”

My aunt was actually dead, I only wish to get a reaction that wasn't a cold stare and I was failing woefully. 

His head turned a towards me. Those pale gray eyes met mine for a beat. Then he looked forward again. The car accelerated onto the highway, and the mansion vanished completely.

The fork I’d been holding at dinner had left little red dents in my palm. I pressed my thumb into them until fresh pain flared. At least that still worked.

I just felt scooped out, like someone had taken everything that made me Tatiana and left this hollow version that kept breathing anyway.

He was younger than the monster I’d built up in my head, maybe thirty, tops. I used to hear his name hissed between my father and his associates when things got ugly. 

Kain.

I’d tried to picture him back then, bored in that big empty house. Now he was right here, like a nightmare come true, taking up too much space. 

His face would’ve been handsome if it wasn’t so completely blank. Like someone had started carving something beautiful and then walked away.

“Where are we going?” I asked.

He gave nothing.

Men like him probably didn’t waste words on their victims. Too busy murdering families and ruining perfectly good evenings. Or maybe he had a speech problem. 

I squinted my eyes at him as I tried to imagine him having difficulty with words. 

“I have book club tomorrow. We’re doing Pride and Prejudice. I’m supposed to bring scones. I would really like not to miss it.”

Still zero reaction. Not even a twitch at the corner of his mouth.

“Fine. Keep your secrets.” I leaned back, trying to sound bored instead of terrified. “Just so you know, my scones are always dry. Everyone pretended to like them because Dad is mayor, but they sucked. You’d think being a politician’s daughter would make me better at faking things. Turns out I’m brutally honest in the kitchen.”

I was rambling. I could hear it. But if I stopped talking, the silence would swallow me whole, and I wasn’t sure I’d come back up. 

Maybe if I annoyed him enough he’d just pull over and kick me out. Or something.

The car took an exit I didn’t recognize. Salt air slipped through the vents. 

Ocean. 

My stomach tightened. Cliffs? Or just a quiet stretch of water where no one would ever find me?

I dug my thumb harder into the fork marks. The sting kept me grounded.

“You’re not going to kill me?” I hoped he’d contradict me so I’d at least know.

He didn’t answer right away. 

Or maybe he's just deaf. Should I try speaking russian. 

“Are you going to sell me?”

That got his attention. He turned fully this time, irritation flickered across his face. It was gone as soon as I saw it.

“No,” He must not be used to using his voice. I concluded.

The single word sent an unwelcome shiver down my spine. I hated it.

“Then what do you want?” I pressed.

He looked away again, out at the dark road, effectively ending the conversation. The cliffs rose like shadows against the night sky ahead of us.

I pressed my thumb deeper into my palm until I felt the skin break. A tiny bead of blood welled up. 

Guess I’d find out soon enough.