Page 132 of Deliverance
My stomach drops to the floor as fear clutches my chest.
“Where did they go? WHERE!”
The one guy holds his hands up and shakes his head.
“I don’t know. On the road. Off campus. Why?”
I shake my head as I turn away from the fucking idiots who sat idly by, while a girl was clearly taken against her will. Pulling up Bridgette’s location, I wait and wait and wait before…nothing. Why can’t I track her location?
“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck,” I mutter under my breath, my head spinning through all the possibilities of where he would take her.
I mean, is his house too obvious? It’s the one place in the world no one will come barging in at any given moment. It’s his property to do with what he wants, so I start there. Taking off running, I head for my car, thankful I have my keys on me, before unlocking and jumping inside. I fire it up immediately, peeling out of the parking lot in the next second.
The drive to Harry’s house is a quick one, but it feels like it’s taking hours. My mind can’t help but loop through worst case scenarios, but I can’t put stock into those. I just need to find her. I haven’t figured out what part two of my plan is. I’m operating under one thing at a time.
When I finally pull up to the house, I practically drive my car up the front stairs, parking it unevenly before sprinting inside. The son of a bitch is either dumb enough to leave his house unlocked, or arrogant enough not to lock it when he got back. Either way, the front door gives in easily for me as I step into the house. I begin scouring every room for them when I hear a muffled shout come from his study.
Oh fuck.
Sprinting to the ominous room, I throw it open, my eyes widening in horror as I walk in on a living nightmare.
Bridgette’s skirt is lifted up, the top half of her body bent over the desk, Harry’s hand pressing her head into the desk. His pants are around his ankles, his bare ass thrusting in and out of her. Pained cries erupt from her as her body heaves. I’m so horror stricken I forget how to move for a moment.
“You like it. Stop fighting it. Daddy’s little fucking whore.” Harry laughs. “Never forget who this pussy belongs to. This is my fucking pussy.”
His words shake something loose in me, and I turn feral. A scream rips through me as both their heads whip over to see me. I jump on Harry, punching and hitting him. Anything I can to get him off her. He seems to care more about fucking his daughter than fighting me off, because he gives me a half-hearted shove, the force of it hard enough that it sends me flying. I smash into the wall, hitting my head, as I see stars.
“NOO!” Bridgette screams, attempting to buck and wiggle her way out from under him.
He doesn’t relent, fucking her harder and more aggressively. I blink away the haziness, stumbling to my feet as Harry snarls at me.
“Don’t worry, Margret. You’re next.”
My eyes flick around the room for something, anything I can use before something silver catches my eye. I don’t even process what I’m fully doing until I’m doing it. One moment, Harry’s letter opener is on his desk, the next, it’s in my hand and plunged into his back.
He roars an animalistic sound as his spine arches. The piece of fucking shit still has his worthless cock in Bridgette, though, so I push him away, taking advantage of his moment of weakness before driving it into his back. Again and again I do it until I hit a spot that causes him to suck in a wet, crackling breath. He looks at me, no doubt filled with adrenaline, as he attempts to lunge for me. I swing out, embedding the letter opener into the top of his head. It didn’t go very deep, but I felt the blade sink into his skull. Clearly, it was deep enough, though.
With wide eyes, he stumbles backwards, his back slamming into the bookshelf behind him as he slides down to his ass before laying on his side. Blood is seeping out of his back, creating a small pool around him as a thick stream runs down his face. His breath sounds choppy and wet, his eyes unfocused as he’s clearly in shock. So am I.
With shaky hands, I drop the knife, turning to see Bridgette is still slumped over the desk, her skirt lifted up to her hips, tears pouring down her face. Something in me breaks inside, seeing her like this, and I know I’ll never be the same. Neither of us will.
A small amount of blood is smeared between her thighs, and I quickly pull down her skirt before pulling her off the desk. She falls apart into a fit of sobs, clinging to me desperately as I hold her as tight as possible. We slide down to the floor together, and I don’t realize I’m crying too, until she speaks.
“M-maggie. Y-you came for me.”
I lean back, palming the back of her head in my hand as I nod.
“I will always come for you, baby B. Always.”
I feel hot tears run down my face as Harry releases another tortured groan from the other side of the room. Bridgette and I both tense, looking over to see him still unmoving. Shakily, I grab my phone from my pocket, hitting call. The phone rings a few times before a giggle answers the phone.
“Hey, Mags. Now isn’t a good time. Liam and Asher were just about to?—”
“S-sky,” I stutter.
Her playful tone dies in an instant, her voice becoming eerily monotone.
“What’s wrong?”
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