__________
As much as it seems,
That you own my heart,
It's astronomy,
We're two worlds apart.
__________
It's pitiful, really.
While Sierra writhes under the dominance of Killian, Liam scours through the world to find her. She believes he is dead. He wants to believe she will remain alive and sane till he finds her. Two sides of the same coin, unable to face each other. Unable to touch.
Unable to love.
Perhaps, his senses are in overdrive. A continent away, his love strives but gives up on life.
Liam's POV
"I hope you are there, Sierra," I murmur, typing relentlessly on my computer.
I developed an app. Fortunately, I know how to code. Having a degree in Computer Science from Berkeley made me love hacking (ethical...and unethical). A few days ago, once I was sure that Killian had indeed captured Sierra, I soon figured that Killian had left the country. His friends said that he had gone to Cape Town for a medical excursion, but after a little digging, I found that Killian had rented his friend's charter plane, and the tail plate number (after hacking into the logs of the FAA) indicated that the plane had landed in Zurich.
Ironic. Sierra wanted to go there.
"She's in Zurich. Killian's aunt had a small cottage there, she died two years ago," I inform Oliver, through the call, my leg bouncing with nerves but the excitement unconcealed. "I am going there, Oliver. Are you going to come with me?" I ask, holding his breath.
"A-Are you sure she's there?" he speaks, his voice evidently choked with tears. I lower my eyes, suddenly realizing that Caroline and Oliver were going through the same pain they had gone through years ago.
"Yes, we're going to find her, man. I promise you. I have her whereabouts, we'll rescue her, Oliver," I assure him confidently. I am scared, of course. But I don't doubt the objective for a single second. I am going to find Sierra, regardless of what happens later.
"Book a first-class ticket. Those are faster to get," Oliver comments, and a smile creeps up my face.
"In case you forgot..." I say, swiveling around on my chair, "...we're going to go on my jet. Pack up, we're leaving tomorrow 6:30 AM. Let's go rescue Si."
**********
Slut.
Fucktoy.
Slave.
Sierra.
For the brown-eyed girl, all were synonymous with her name. She had succumbed and resigned to her fate.
"Perhaps, I would die soon," she wrote on the diary Killian so benevolently gifted her. 'I would be with you. I feel so helpless, Liam. I regret everything I did," she wrote, sniffling, "I wish I would have told you how much I love you. I wish I could kiss and memorize every inch of your body before I killed you. Killian's right, it is my fault that you died. All my fault," she completed, shutting the leatherbound notebook.
She doesn't know Liam's lasting love. She doesn't know that he's coming.
He's coming to get her back.
Sierra's POV
"I wish you were still here, Liam," I cry quietly, sobbing through the pain of my punishment. I spoke out of turn, and he was as angry as he could be about it. The whip's lashes burn on my back, as I wait for him, kneeling on the floor. He told me he would treat the wounds, but only after I had reveled in the afterglow of my punishment.
"Have you suffered enough, slut?" his voice echoes in the room after a few moments, and I am pulled from my pain-induced haze.
"Yes, master," I murmur, my head swaying.
"Does it hurt?" he asks, a smile evident in his voice.
"Yes, master. It hurts too much," I plead, a cry breaking through me as his fingers brush across my wounds.
"I don't want to hear you cry," he says, and I feel a prick in my neck. "Sleep, my slave," he says, and calm darkness surrounds me.
Liam's POV
The beauty of Zurich pales in comparison to my anger towards Killian and my determination to find Sierra. As of now, we stand outside the airport, waiting for a friend.
"It's cold," Oliver murmurs, shivering.
I glare at him, a chuckle escaping me, "Here," I say, pulling out another coat from my suitcase, "I need you functioning if we're gonna get Sierra." He nods, wrapping himself in the flannel.
"Liam, my friend!" the unmistakable French-accented voice interrupts us.
"Matteo!" I greet, enveloping the short man in a hug. He was wearing all-black, complementing his safety-gear business. "Je sais...I didn't ask you, mon ami mais, what brings you here?"
"I have someone to meet. She's living in the outskirts of Zurich..." I pause, looking down at my phone, "Kusnacht...?" I say, fearing my pronunciation.
"Aah, Küsnacht...oui," he corrects, laughing, "Do you need something from me?"
"A car," I say, smiling. "And perhaps, a few of your safety gear?" I implore.
Contrary to what most people think, Matteo also deals in guns.
And I just need a Glock or two.
"There's something else, n'y a-t-il pas?" he asks, tilting his head mischievously.
"There is. I don't know if it is dangerous, Matteo, but I need her safe," I say, lowering my eyes as thoughts of Sierra invade me.
"Mon ami," he says, keeping a hand on my shoulder, "I will let you borrow two semi-automatics, bien?" he says, gesturing behind him as a person steps outside his car, opening the trunk and bringing out two Glocks.
I raise an eyebrow in confusion, making Matteo laugh, "I had a...que disez-vous... an inkling!" he asserts, laughing, "I had an inkling that you need some extra assistance, Liam. You won't call me otherwise," he says, making me laugh.
"How much do I owe you?" I ask, taking out my phone.
"Ahh, le rien," he waves off, "Nothing, my friend! Go and save your woman!" he laughs, walking towards his car. "A car will meet you here in precisely," he says, looking at his watch, "26 seconds. Don't be scared if you see it moving without a driver!" he laughs, again, shutting the door and the car driving away.
"Well, he was a piece," Oliver remarks, as I hand him one of the guns.
"I know. But he is trustworthy," I say, looking at the loaded magazine.
"I don't want to sound...skeptical," Oliver remarks, "but I have a few questions. How do you know that mafia-man? How do you know how to shoot a gun, 'cause I fucking don't?!" he says, throwing his hands.
"My elder brother..." I say, thinking of his death, "Stephen. He was killed in a bank robbery. I was eighteen at the time, and I remember unraveling into paranoia and anger. I lashed out all the time. I wanted to protect myself and my family. My parents thought it would make me less angry if I had a vent. So, being the middle-class people they were, and the fact that my father was in the police force, he taught me shooting."
"I'm sorry," he utters, looking on the ground.
"The car's here," I say, looking at the automatic Tesla.
"Do you know how to drive that?" Oliver asks, baffled.
"Yes, now get in," I say, "...and Matteo is not mafia-man. He has a safety-gear business. He did not have a trunk full of guns, I am guessing there would be three there, at most," I say, laughing.
"Oh," Oliver remarks, sitting in the car.
I enter the address of the home in the Navigation system and drive.
"I don't want you to use the gun, Ollie. That's the worst case. Just if he threatens Sierra or us, or just aims a gun at either—so we have certain leverage. I want this to go as smoothly as it can, for Sierra and for us."
**********
Sierra's POV
"Wakey-wakey," a low voice pulls me out of my nap. I groan, the pain on my back nearly a dull throb.
"The pain will come back soon, love. Gave you a little relief while it lasts," he says, sitting beside me on the bed.
"Thank you, master," I say, mumbling into the pillow, making him laugh.
"You really are a little slut, aren't you?" he says, stroking my hair. "Your back arched," he says, trailing his finger down my naked spine, "your whole body uncovered, but you remain unashamed," he says, slapping my ass harshly.
"Master!" I squeak.
"Will you speak out of turn again, Sierra?" he asks, gripping my neck. I shake my head the best I can, "No, master."
"Good slut. Now, I know you haven't eaten in two days, so how about I end your punishment?" he asks.
"Yes! Yes, please, Master!" I nod vehemently, raised on my elbows, the wounds on my back protesting with the movement, making me grimace in pain. He laughs, patting my head.
"Let's go," he says, extending his hand as I slowly stand on the ground, and we walk out of the room.
Author's Note:
Two more chapters to go! Show some love, and I'll probably finish off the book this week itself *wink-wink*.