Read Online Finding The Limits (The Limitless Trilogy Book 1) by Harper Cole - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Harper Cole
Ads: Link
he had just bumped into me on the street and was delighted to meet me. He nodded at the man looming behind me.
"Jack, do free Ms. Turner's arms. Thank you. You may leave us."
The tape was ripped from my wrists, one more layer of pain on top of my sore ankles and throbbing jaw. The sight of this man had taken all the wind from me. I rubbed at my wrists, and stayed kneeling on the floor, watching him warily as he approached.
He stopped a few feet away. He was dressed in a dark suit, as if he had just stepped out of a business meeting, but he wore it with such ease that I guessed he never wore anything else.
"Welcome to my home. What's mine is yours, et cetera, et cetera," he said, waving his hand.
"Fuck you, you fucking fucker," I spat. Okay, not my most cutting retort ever, but it pretty much summed up exactly how I felt right now.
He made a tutting sound of disappointment. "Oh, Ms. Turner. Surely Andrew does not tolerate such language from a lady? I certainly don't."
"Fuck off." Andrew? Okay … what was going on here?
He stepped forward and slapped me across my cheek, the opposite way to where I'd been punched, but it made my teeth rattle nonetheless and I bit back my sob. It hurt like a mofo but I didn't want to let this jerk know he was getting to me.
"Ms. Turner," he said, his voice hard. "While you are a guest in my house, I expect a certain level of respect. A civil tongue in your head, if you please."
"I'm not a guest. I've been kidnapped."
"I am sorry to hear that," he said, sounding completely unconcerned. "You'll be here at my pleasure for a few days while I explain how beneficial it would be if you were to choose to work for me."
"Fuck you."
I knew it would earn me another slap, and I didn't care. He could knock me unconscious, but I wouldn't agree to work for him.
He raised his hand but hesitated, and I made eye contact with him.
I recognized him.
Those were Andrew's eyes looking back at me.
"Who the hell are you?" I asked before his hand connected with my cheek again and I was thrown to the floor.
He watched me as I scrabbled back to my knees, and tipped my head back defiantly. Once I was sitting upright once more, my butt on my feet, he said, "I am Leonard Walker-Wilkinson, my dear. Had you not worked it out?"
Sure I had, but only in the past ten minutes. What the fuck was going on? "You're Andrew's father."
"Why, yes. Of course. Sadly, my dear son and I have had some misunderstandings. Mostly from his stubbornness, I must add. I would dearly love to be reconciled with him. He needs bringing back to the fold."
"You're barking up the wrong tree," I said. "We're not in a relationship or anything. I'm not going to be any use as some kind of bargaining chip." What did he think would happen? He'd tell Andrew I'd be harmed if Andrew didn't come and make up with his daddy? It was bullshit.
"Oh, no, that's not at all what I have in mind. Would you like a drink? Something to calm your nerves?"
I bit back the instinctive "fuck you" that sprang to my lips. "No." Nor was I going to say "no, thank you." Fuck him.
"As you wish. No, I have no doubt that Andrew cares nothing for you. He cares for no one. I raised him well, my dear. He is a man, and one that I hope to be proud of one day, but sadly he has let his teenage rebellion drag out for far longer than is seemly. It is time that he returned to the fold, and to the role laid down for him in the family."
Now I wanted to argue with him. Andrew did care for me. Maybe not in any conventional way. But surely there was more between us than just sex? Or was I deluding myself?
"I'm not going to work for you." The feeling had returned to my limbs, now. I started to get to my feet. I hated that I was kneeling at this jerkoff's feet.
"You'll stay with me for a few days while I show you how wonderful life will be when you make the right decision. It won't compromise your current role, by the way. Oh, I know you're a feisty and ambitious young lady, and you
"Jack, do free Ms. Turner's arms. Thank you. You may leave us."
The tape was ripped from my wrists, one more layer of pain on top of my sore ankles and throbbing jaw. The sight of this man had taken all the wind from me. I rubbed at my wrists, and stayed kneeling on the floor, watching him warily as he approached.
He stopped a few feet away. He was dressed in a dark suit, as if he had just stepped out of a business meeting, but he wore it with such ease that I guessed he never wore anything else.
"Welcome to my home. What's mine is yours, et cetera, et cetera," he said, waving his hand.
"Fuck you, you fucking fucker," I spat. Okay, not my most cutting retort ever, but it pretty much summed up exactly how I felt right now.
He made a tutting sound of disappointment. "Oh, Ms. Turner. Surely Andrew does not tolerate such language from a lady? I certainly don't."
"Fuck off." Andrew? Okay … what was going on here?
He stepped forward and slapped me across my cheek, the opposite way to where I'd been punched, but it made my teeth rattle nonetheless and I bit back my sob. It hurt like a mofo but I didn't want to let this jerk know he was getting to me.
"Ms. Turner," he said, his voice hard. "While you are a guest in my house, I expect a certain level of respect. A civil tongue in your head, if you please."
"I'm not a guest. I've been kidnapped."
"I am sorry to hear that," he said, sounding completely unconcerned. "You'll be here at my pleasure for a few days while I explain how beneficial it would be if you were to choose to work for me."
"Fuck you."
I knew it would earn me another slap, and I didn't care. He could knock me unconscious, but I wouldn't agree to work for him.
He raised his hand but hesitated, and I made eye contact with him.
I recognized him.
Those were Andrew's eyes looking back at me.
"Who the hell are you?" I asked before his hand connected with my cheek again and I was thrown to the floor.
He watched me as I scrabbled back to my knees, and tipped my head back defiantly. Once I was sitting upright once more, my butt on my feet, he said, "I am Leonard Walker-Wilkinson, my dear. Had you not worked it out?"
Sure I had, but only in the past ten minutes. What the fuck was going on? "You're Andrew's father."
"Why, yes. Of course. Sadly, my dear son and I have had some misunderstandings. Mostly from his stubbornness, I must add. I would dearly love to be reconciled with him. He needs bringing back to the fold."
"You're barking up the wrong tree," I said. "We're not in a relationship or anything. I'm not going to be any use as some kind of bargaining chip." What did he think would happen? He'd tell Andrew I'd be harmed if Andrew didn't come and make up with his daddy? It was bullshit.
"Oh, no, that's not at all what I have in mind. Would you like a drink? Something to calm your nerves?"
I bit back the instinctive "fuck you" that sprang to my lips. "No." Nor was I going to say "no, thank you." Fuck him.
"As you wish. No, I have no doubt that Andrew cares nothing for you. He cares for no one. I raised him well, my dear. He is a man, and one that I hope to be proud of one day, but sadly he has let his teenage rebellion drag out for far longer than is seemly. It is time that he returned to the fold, and to the role laid down for him in the family."
Now I wanted to argue with him. Andrew did care for me. Maybe not in any conventional way. But surely there was more between us than just sex? Or was I deluding myself?
"I'm not going to work for you." The feeling had returned to my limbs, now. I started to get to my feet. I hated that I was kneeling at this jerkoff's feet.
"You'll stay with me for a few days while I show you how wonderful life will be when you make the right decision. It won't compromise your current role, by the way. Oh, I know you're a feisty and ambitious young lady, and you
Similar Books
