Chapter 12

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"Our wedding." Kyle says bluntly, his emotion gone from his face.

My eyelids blink multiple times, trying to process his words. "Excuse me... what?" I shake my head, trying to regain my focus. "For a minute there, I thought you said wedding." My throat sends up an awkward laugh, and Kyle's serious face remains apparent.

"That's because I did." He answers, pulling out a few sheets of legal documents. His arm hand would pass them to me, though I'd just stare at them with wide eyes.

"This is a joke, right?" I groan. "If so, it isn't funny."

"No, this isn't a joke. This is real." Kyle takes a deep breath, pulling out a pen. "We have to decide a date and a venue. I was thinking a simple city-hall public official wedding. A real one would take too long to plan." He shrugs, passing a few more papers my way. "In a few days, I'll take you shopping for a dress and all that. I just want to get the legal things out of the way-"

I cut him off, dropping the papers back onto his messy desk and standing up. "Hell no."

"I mean, we can have a real wedding, but it has to be planned within this week-"

"I'm not marrying you." My voice cuts him off again. "I'm going back to Florida to be with Jason and Matilda..."

And my son

"... and I am going to live my life how it was before you forced me here." My head nods, telling him that I'm serious.

Kyle's anger is easily seen as his face turns red. He clenches the papers in his hand, beginning to crush them fully as he rises from his chair. "You are going to marry me, and that's final. I have spent years finding you and I'm not letting you go again, do you hear me?"

"No I don't hear you. I will never say I do, and I would rather die than stay here with you." My lips sneer, grabbing the forms he wanted me to sign. I rip the forms sort, letting the pieces fall to the floor. "Never." My eyes shoot daggers into his.

If Kyle wasn't already mad, he was now. His frame stalks around his desk, grabbing my arm harshly. "You'll marry me, one way or another." He growls, dragging me by my arm out of his office.

I wince under his hold as he pulls me up the two flights of stairs I can only assume are leading me to my room. We finally reach the door, and Kyle opens it, shoving me inside before inevitably locking me in.

Matilda's POV

It's been a few days since I received the call from Laine. It has been absolutely crazy here, Jason has every police station he has influence on looking into the case. He even has multiple personal investigators on the job.

I guess I never realized how much power he actually has. He gets more and more information everyday, but always hits another dead end. All Laine ever told us was the man's first name, that he was apart of a gang, and a description of him from her memory.

Jason has been working all day and all night looking for her, and I've been at home watching the boys. Owen hasn't stopped asking about his mother. He's had mini tantrums over the last few days, demanding to see her. He's never been away from her this long, Laine never does anything other than work and be with her son. She keeps saying how she wants a normal life and to move on, but she won't succeed with this shitty job, never thinking about herself.

I've told her multiple times that I'd watch Owen more if it meant she'd find a new job and take some nights out on the town, but she refuses. I don't think she can stand being away from Owen... this must be torture wherever she is... As long as she keeps quiet about him though, her son should be safe.

My thoughts are ripped away as I hear the door downstairs kick open. Jason isn't expected to be home for another four hours, so this arrival is odd.

I stand up from my knees in the kid's playroom and go examine the entrance. The foyer is oddly quiet, the door swung open all the way. My arms move to shut it, but as they get closer, I can see the bodyguards on either side of the door on the floor in their own puddle of blood. My throat threatens to give out and throw up, but somehow holds it in.

My first instinct is to protect the children, so, as fast as I can, my feet sprint up the stairs to the playroom. The sound of the children playing had ceased, which made my heart beat a mile a minute.
Looking into the playroom, my stomach drops, the scene before me is horrifying. Three unfamiliar men stand facing me, Ricky in one guy's arms and Owen in another. The third man holds an empty syringe.

Both boys are out cold, and I can feel my heart stop. Before my body can react to save them though, a needle pokes in my own neck. The room starts to turn, and I feel dizzy and, as expected, everything goes black.

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