Devil's Choice

Chapters 1-4

Devil’s Choice

Book 3

Old Balmain House Series

 

 

Novel by

Graham Wilson

 

Copyright

Devil’s Choice

Graham Wilson

Copyright Graham Wilson 2014

BeyondBeyond Books Edition

ISBN 9781310890390

 Acknowledgements

Thanks to the many people of Balmain who continue to tell me their stories and share their memories which give a foundation for this book. Also thanks to those who have commented on earlier books in the series and encouraged me to keep writing.

Prologue

 The room has windows with iron bars, a metal door and four empty chairs facing a metal table.

The door opens. A man walks in, hands shackled together, dressed in prison uniform. He looks middle aged, dark hair with flecks of grey, powerful shoulders and hard features. The softening of age is starting to round his body. A warder follows close behind, baton at the ready. The warder points to the seat. The man sits down, wordless.

The door opens again. A second warder enters, baton also in hand. He moves to stand beside his colleague at the end of the table. A few steps behind comes a slip of a girl. She walks inside and looks around nervously, her face taking in the seated man with a searching look. She is small and slender. She first looks like a teenager, but she is older, perhaps mid twenties.

The man looks for an instant as if he recognises her, but this passes. Then leers at her; it is a long time since he has seen a pretty girl even if her face is drawn and white. The man speaks, unbidden. “Well, look what the fairy godmother had brought me; a luscious crumpet for my pleasure.”

The girl recoils as if struck. She steadies herself then takes a chair opposite and sits down. She stares at the man intently, loathing and desperation in her eyes. She wrings her hand together, as if to gather courage. Finally she speaks.

“Please, I need to know if you are my father?”

The man leers again. “Who knows or cares about that. I am happy to father to any brats you want me to sire. Is that what you are looking for, a new stud?”

She is silent so he continues. “I have had many sluts in my time; perhaps your mother was one of them. Most could not wait to spread their legs for me. A few needed serious persuasion.”

The girl’s face struggles for control, expressions of outrage, loathing and fear swirling around. She closes her eyes and puts her hands to her face. It seems she is willing her hands to mould control back into her features. At last her face becomes is blank.

She regathers her words. “You are one of three men who raped my mother more than twenty years ago. I am the result of that rape. Now I have my own daughter. I need to find my own father, my daughter’s grandfather. He is the only person who has a chance to save her life. I hoped you would help me.”