Hunted and Abducted

End of Chapter Eleven

So, this is another author note and I wish you would read it. I know I'm taking forever to update this book. I've kind of thoughts about deleting it once or twice. Somethings are going on in my life and I do literally nothing anymore. I come home from school and sleep. What did I do this weekend? I slept all day, then cooked, then slept more. I'm having a really hard time right now. But you know, here's the end of chapter eleven.

"Nicholas!"

Oh no.

"Where are you?"

It can't be.

"Anyone seen Nicholas?"

I closed my eyes. Even breaths, calm down. Maybe he won't even find me. Just be quiet. I was a built, but my strength was no match for how may guys my dad had. I wasn't even scared for me, I needed Malia out of here. I never dreamed that he would pick her for one of his girls. I hadn't really been involved with these things before, but there was no way I wouldn't be now. I couldn't have just left her. If I did I knew what was going to happen to her. She was going to be like every other girl brought into here. I wasn't going to let that happen though.

"Sir I seen him go down that hallways a few minutes ago."

Crap, crap, crap. Any of these guys will tell my dad anything to get brownie points. I continued down the hallway to the front door. I can make it. Seconds before I got to the door it just exploded. I flew backwards into the wall. Malia dropped out of my arms. My ears rang and confusion set in heavy. People were defiantly yelling. I closed my eyes for a few seconds.

This. Is. Chaos.

I opened them again. I scanned the hallway to find Malia. She was laying limp on the floor. Blood trickled down her face. It was obvious that she had hit her head. Her arm was twisted in an awkward way. There was no way it wasn't broken.

I crawled over next to her. I just stared at her. I couldn't grasp everything that was happening. I knew I should get her away from everything, but I don't think I could pick her up again.

Bang

Gunshots rung threw the hallways. My eyes darted all over the place. In the hallway hung a thick fog from the explosion. I couldn't see anything. I knew this building like the back of my hand. Conveniently, there was a door nearby that had a dead bolt.

In desperation I did the last thing I knew I could do, I drug her into the room. Before I could lock it the door busted open.

"Give her to me son!"

My dad. The one person I needed her away from. I stood defiantly in front of him.

"You can't have her."

He narrowed his eyes at me,
"Just give her up. It will be a lot easier on your side."

"I will not."

"What are you going to do, Nicholas? You are injured. You can't fight me. I am stronger and always will be."

Defeated flooded me. He was right. I couldn't beat him on regular basis. I couldn't do it now. I can only try.  He laughed realizing what my choice was. He pulled out a gun.

"Come on, son. Move out the way."

I stood my ground.

"I really don't want to have to do this."

"And I really don't want to have to do this," someone said behind him.

He jumped at the sudden voice. It was Nash. Relief flooded me just as fast as the defeat had.

"Put the gun down, Shane. We wouldn't want anyone to get hurt, now would we?"

"Nash, you're finally here. I thought you were just going to leave that girl with me."

" I would never leave her. Especially with you."

"Nicholas," my dad said to me," look at that. He loves her. Can't you tell?"

"Put down the gun," Nash said calmly.

"All of this is over one girl. One little girl. This is ridiculously don't you think?"

More of Nash's men came into the room.

"Shane put the gun down."

Bang.

My dad fell to the ground. Panic set in and I didn't know what to do. Sure he was a horrible man, but that was my father. My flesh and blood that was just shot in front of me.

I crumbled to the ground right after he did.

"Do you see this son," he said to me," this is your fault. You are no son of mine."

And that was it. The last words he had spoken he used to disown me.

"It will be alright," Nash said.

"He disowned me," I stated.

"He had a great son. He just didn't realize it."

Maybe he was right. I was never a bad son. I had done everything He had told me to do. I helped him when he tortured people. When he captured people. This was the "family business" ,as I was told, and I was going to take it over for him.

I ceased to care about him. He had abused mom over many many years and she was gone because of him. He killed my mother. The only person who ever understood me. If anything, I was relieved he was gone now.

"What are we going to now," I asked.

"Well, now that he's dead, you run this joint. What are you going to do?"

Great question.

What was I going to do?