Daddy's Debt *SAMPLE*

One

Danica

Bells rang joyously in the distance—the sound, too pleasant for a dark basement or abandoned building. Cigarettes, cigars, and an insane amount of perfume provided temporary relief.

There were people nearby. Too far to use their conversations to determine the location, yet close enough for possible witnesses. That realization in itself sparked another short-lived reason for calm despite my lack of sight. Twice I stumble over my own feet as I'm dragged along—the ground beneath them, ice-cold and smooth. With the fading of the voice, fear set in. My heartbeat replaces the sounds.

Neither man tightly gripping my arms bothered to explain who they were, let alone what they wanted. I was on my way to bed when I heard movement outside my door. My mother may not have raised me, per se, but I'm still no fool. I'm not one to wait around for a reason to run either. I was on my way out the window and down the rusted fire escape when they got in. Before I could put distance between us on the ground, a hand shot from a dark corner of the alley and a sweet-scented cloth stole my ability to escape. All too soon, my consciousness went as well. Awakening to darkness courtesy of a blindfold and callous hands, my mind worked tirelessly for a plan.

This has to be a part of my not-so-distant past; a direct result of some shit I stepped in and thought I could scrape off and keep running. Karma at its finest with my bill in hand. Convinced of that, I allowed my arms to become weightless and walked along. When the time's right, I'll play my hand, becoming a damsel or seductress to gain my freedom.

The thought of adding another sucker to my list is almost too empowering to withhold a smile. Biting down on my lip is all I can do to stop it. Yet, the moment the floor goes from freezing and hard to warm and carpeted, my excitement slips.

Rough fingertips caress the line of my jaw. Slowly, they tugged at the blindfold. Cold blue eyes like unforgiving ocean waves, stare into mine. Such eyes, I'd have remember. Such eyes that're seemingly staring into my soul would have embedded themselves in my mind forever. Drawing me in like the proverbial moth to a flame, my mind goes blank. More daunting than this stoney gaze and my inability to look away is the lack of familiarity with their owner.

"Danica Tyce," he states matter of factly. His voice, deep and velvety, matches those eyes and the darkness of his striking features perfectly. In those two words, there was a hint of an accent. One I can't place but hate for how it adds to his attractiveness. Everything from his stance and men still holding me to his perfectly styled raven hair was indicative. This man is to be feared and respected.

"Sorry, I don't know her."

He reacts with a smirk, although the amusement fails to move beyond his lips. A second later, he nods and the doors of the skyscraping office open, giving way to heavy footsteps.

"Dani! Thank you, Jesus! They found you!"

Instantly, I freeze. The last time I heard that voice, my ear was pressed against a cheap fiberwood door listening to him argue with my mom about money. Afterward, he became a ghost; a dead man as far as I was concerned. Now, he's a few feet away, breathlessly elated. The second he's in my line of sight, everything clicks into place.

They found you.

This is because of him.

"What did you do?" I whisper, my tone increasing gradually. "What did you do, you sorry son of a bitch?!" To no avail, I fight against the iron grip on my arms, hoping one would loosen just enough for me to get to him. In trying, I'd only gained a stern look from the Alpha, resulting in the blindfold being pulled up and shoved into my mouth.

The older, male version of myself smiled from ear to ear. A decade-plus weathered his face. No longer youthful and handsome, the corners of his gray eyes sagged with wrinkles also visible around his mouth. Light brown skin hung beneath his chin. Thick dark, curly hair, which once mirrored my own, was now heavily streaked with strands of white. The only thing that hadn't changed, though, was how little he gave a fuck.