Luring Light - K.E. Osborn Page 0,72
all.
Maybe his hair’s a little grayer.
The wavy hair is to his shoulders, the pronounced mustache over a slightly smaller beard, the style making him appear like a guy from an old seventies’ porno movie, but I’m sure the gray hair would make ladies view him as a silver fox. He’s not some ugly fuck, that’s for sure. He has an aura about him that draws people in, and that’s why he’s so fucking deadly.
“Hello, son.”
Scowling, I shake my head. “You stopped being my father the day you tried to turn me into you!”
He walks inside, views the bungalow, his eyes taking everything in. “You mean the day I freed you from your virtue… from your innocence. You need to see, Cade… life is made up of moments, of choices. They define us. You chose that day to be a man. You chose to become… Just. Like. Me. It helped shape who you are no—”
“I’m nothing like you.”
“Nothing? You don’t think women should submit to us? Let me get this straight, you don’t make Ivy submit to you?”
My eyes shift to Ivy. Tears well, then slowly fall over her bottom lids.
Oh, hell, maybe I am just like him?
“What Ivy and I do is none of your damn business!”
“What Ivy and you had might be none of my business, but it’s over now. Ivy belongs to me. I’m taking her as my first offering. She’s young, virile, hardly broken in. Her children will be the next generation, seeing as the last was useless at keeping the family tradition going.”
Anger blooms inside of me so strong I can barely contain it. I wrestle in my chair again. It moves from side to side on its legs as I attempt to get free. So much so, the chair almost topples over as they start dragging Ivy outside.
“Ivy!” My chest squeezes tight as panic rips through me. “Ivy!”
She tries to fight them too, but there’s too fucking many of them as they drag her out, kicking and screaming under her gag.
“Fuck!” I scream out as I struggle in my restraints.
They exit the bungalow causing my anxiety to reach a critical level.
I must get to Ivy.
So, I jump on the seat, trying to break it, but all it does is topple to the side, and I slam to the floor with a massive thud—a deep pain ripples through me. My ribs causing my breath to catch as my nose crinkles with a strange smell. My eyes shoot up as smoke begins to waft in under the front door.
“Shit!” I spin my head around to see it’s coming in the back door too.
The haze wafts in, heading directly for me as I wrestle with the fucking chair. Smoke floods the floor of the bungalow, which makes me cough. My eyes sting as I fight harder to free myself, but they have me tied up pretty fucking tight. Adrenaline spikes through my veins as the orange and yellow flickers of flames glimmer through the living room window. That sight kicks me up a notch, but I am still not making any headway. Coughing and spluttering, I’m starting to become dizzy. All I’m really doing is turning in fucking circles.
I’m not getting anywhere.
Shifting, I attempt to sit up. My plan is to drop onto the chair and break it, but my body is weakening with all the strenuous effort I’ve put in so far. I manage to stand and drop to the floor, but the chair doesn’t budge.
Not knowing what to do next, I lay here, taking a couple of shallow breaths trying not to breathe in too much smoke, when someone breaks down the front door, the woodgrain splintering off in all directions. I lift my head as a vision of Dash enters the flaming bungalow.
What the fuck!
Am I hallucinating?
Dash rushes to me, pulling out a knife, cutting me free. “C’mon fucker, up you get,” he urges, then lifts me from the chair, rushing with me toward the entry of the house. As we get out on the front porch, a section of roof slams down in front of us, completely alight.
Dash grabs the rocking chair to the right of us, using it to push the debris out of the way enough for us to clear a path through. We rush out to the front area, and we both fall onto the fresh-cut grass. I’m coughing frantically. Dash pats my back, trying to help me to breathe as we both watch the quaint little bungalow go up in