Owning Olivia

He looked at my stepfather, a storm of hatred filling his eyes.

“Her in exchange for the money you owe me. That was the deal, and since you haven’t even come close, I’m here to collect,” Silas sneered. The scars on his face looked ferocious and inflamed, as if they had a life of their own. Marks he was always trying to conceal whenever he spoke, he kept his head down.

Relief flooded my stepfather’s face.

“What? You’re gonna just give me to him?” I asked as fear came over me. Paul was unkind to me, but at least he was the monster I knew.

“The police will come after you. You sack of shit. I’m not property,” I screeched.

Perhaps I’d misjudged Silas as his touch was anything but gentle. The one man who’d always been kind was now treating me like all the rest of them. Tears thundered down my face as I stared at my captor, begging him silently to have mercy.

“She’s worth much more than a hundred grand, Silas. You have any idea what virgin pussy would get me on the black market?” Paul, my stepfather, stood tall as he looked at Silas, challenging him with his stare.

Paul had come close, only a lousy hundred grand short of paying back the loan, but Silas didn’t strike me as a man who’d cut corners. His disdain for my stepfather was written all over his face. I couldn’t figure out why he’d given us the loan in the first place, since I was pretty sure he made his money off of turning in wanted men.

Silas gently placed me on a chair, making sure I wouldn’t be affected by the impact, an act of kindness from the colossal man who invariably struck fear in those around him. He then walked right up to my stepfather, closing all gaps between them. I could see Paul step back, his shoulders slowly starting to slump, his bravado, on display only a moment ago, slowly began to diminish. He wanted to run and I didn’t blame him.

“You think she’s worth your life?” Silas breathed the words, making them come out as just a whisper. I wasn’t sure which was more terrifying, his yelling or his menacing soft voice, promising sweet vengeance like a whispered lullaby. Paul stumbled back, trying to remove himself from Silas as he retreated, tripping over boxes and trash on the floor, until he eventually fell on his ass. Dad had messed up one too many times with this quiet giant. What he sensed as weakness was nothing more than tenaciousness. Paul had pushed the boundaries and awoken the sleeping monster.

“I asked you a question, Paul. Is that little girl worth your life?” Paul started shuffling on the floor, using his hands and feet to distance himself from Silas. He looked like a cockroach retreating back into the dark after the light had been turned on.

What had begun three years before had finally reached the final chapter. Dad came up short and Silas was done waiting. My life was about to change forever. There was no escaping the debt and Silas knew exactly what he’d come here for.

I considered running, for a second it seemed like a good idea, but I knew Silas hunted people down for a living and I’d be up against the very best. My two feet stayed firmly planted as I watched them circle one another. The weasel versus the lion. There wasn’t much mystery as to who the victor would be—which man would ultimately control my destiny.

Silas

He didn’t care about Olivia. He made her work day and night, taking care of him, cleaning up after his lowlife friends, and running the failing bar by herself. She meant nothing to him in the state he was in. The man was obsessed with drugs, cheating, and money. Hoping he’d come clean was like wishing for desert rain, nice when it showed up, but never enough to make a change. Oliva needed to be protected and I was the only one who could do that. Every day that she spent in this place exposed her to danger. It was a wonder she hadn’t already been raped, kidnapped, or murdered. Paul was blind when it came to value—the only real treasure the man would ever possess was the young girl cowered in fear right in front of him.

I hated that she looked scared of me, but in that moment, she needed to be scared. Paul needed to know not to mess with me. That was why I made his men scared of me, wanting to make sure they’d give up and never come looking for me. I made them all believe that I’d gut them like fish without hesitation. I remembered how once Frankie, one of his loser dealers, sat there mouthing off to me in a poker game. I’d gotten up calmly, walked over to him, yanked out his tongue, and stabbed my knife right through it. After that, no one dared to talk back to me, not like this sack of shit quivering on the floor to whom I’d generously given too many chances.