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The sharp guilt

Before I realized what I had been doing, I found myself in her bathroom, desperately trying to wipe the semen from my pants. I couldn't sit outside his room all night looking like I had cum in my pants. Her brothers may have liked me, but I was pretty sure they had limitations about it. Amelia was not only his sister, but she was getting married in the morning. The thought of William having her turned my guts, filling my mouth with a pungent taste. He was an absolutely horrible man. He didn't deserve her sweet face in his life. Nor in his bed.

As the minutes ticked by, I brushed the worst of the stain away, waiting to hear the click of the door as Amelia returned . Hopefully with clean pants. The house was quite large, but how long could it take me to locate some?

Shifting from one foot to the other, I glanced at the clock again: quarter past eleven. It had to have been twenty minutes or more, was he pulling my leg?

As I pulled on my pants and buckled my belt, the wet spot brushed my groin. Silence enveloped his bedroom as I opened the door and looked around. It was empty. Where the hell was I? There was a chance that some family member had misplaced it, so I decided to give it another ten minutes.

Each minute passed torturously slowly as I glanced and glanced at the clock again, my eyes fixed on the door to the room. Sweat ran down the back of my neck and I wiped it off feeling nervous. By eleven twenty-five I was pacing the room.

At eleven thirty, I was opening the door and going in search of him.

By eleven forty-five, my stomach felt full of lead.

By twelve, I realized how fucked up I was.

By twelve-thirty, Kyle had brought me before him, the brothers and a handful of henchmen. I gulped for air, half expecting a bullet.

"How the fuck did you get away with that? "Kyle's face was beet red as his voice carried across the room.

"I had to go to the bathroom." It was the best excuse he had.

"You had scheduled breaks where someone else took over, couldn't you hold it in?"

I clenched my fingers into a fist, furious with Amelia . She had used me and cheated me. For a moment, I thought she had felt some kind of attraction, too. Once again, the desperate child in me had seen affection and lost herself in it. How had I still not learned that no matter the circumstance, I would always end up getting fucking shit on by others?

"I'm sorry. It was a stupid mistake. I thought she wouldn't notice I was gone for a few minutes and I thought we were trying to keep her safe, not locked up."

Kyle slammed his hands on the table and the heavy wood shook under his anger. "William's going to break your face."

"I'll find her," I said, tempering my voice with more confidence than I had. Showing weakness was never an option in front of those guys. They'd hang me by my guts at the first sign.

"You'd better. Because if you don't, you'll be the one feeling William's wrath . I won't hesitate to hand you over to him and his son. You'll be sent home in pieces."

Kyle stormed out, followed quickly by Mary . He would have to question her later. The way her eyes flicked away from my face made me instantly suspicious. The two of them were close enough for her to know where Amelia had gone .

Her passport was in her room, but her phone was gone. Her bags remained. She hoped that meant she had gone to a bar to drown her sorrows. He'd already sent some men to stake out the area.

Harry whistled through his teeth. "I didn't think he'd be able to get away. Let's hope he comes to his senses and comes back in the morning."

Chase laughed and shook his head. "He won't go far. She'd miss the family too much. But I respect her for trying. I'd run away too if I had to marry that bastard" .

"It's not funny," I said. I couldn't explain to her that she must have planned it, that it wasn't a coincidence that she had left while I was in the bathroom. She had put me there spitting my semen all over my pants. If I found her, I would make her pay.

Mark ran a hand over his face." Find her, Edward . Dad might be furious, but I can pay you well for doing your best. We need her back. In one piece."

Most of the targets I was being asked to find could lose a few pieces without it being a problem.

"How much?"

"Depends on how far she's gone. If it's in the pub, I'll give you fifty. If she's harder to locate, whatever you want for bringing her back."

"I swallowed hard. It was my fault she was gone, but if I'd planned it, she might be hard to track down. They'd need me."

"Ninety thousand." The words left my lips before I could think about how far-fetched the figure was.

"If you bring her back, it's yours," Marcos said without a moment's hesitation.

Sometimes I forgot that such a high figure for me was like pocket change to them. I would pay what was left of my mortgage. The house would be all mine. I could be more selective about the jobs I wanted to take. Financial freedom.

Just a matter of getting Amelia.

The image of her lips wrapped around my cock, her perfectly freckled nose and big green eyes came to mind. Her lips flaming as she took more, as she licked and sucked like a good girl.

But she wasn't a good girl.

And I'd drag her back to William's feet and leave her there gladly, for trying to fuck me.

It could have cost me my job. Shit, it might have cost me my life if the Kensingtons hadn't needed me to track her down.

I'd bring her back kicking and screaming, if I had to.

AMELIA

The Spanish sun warmed my body from head to toe as I relaxed by the small pool of the quaint hotel I had found. It had been almost a week since my escape from the wedding and, instead of being crushed by William's dominance, I was free. For the first time in my life, no one was following me, no one was telling me where I should be or how I should behave. Nothing was expected of me.

It was glorious.

Bubbles fizzed on my tongue as I took another sip of sweet cava, closing my eyes and relaxing my muscles.

It had been a busy few days trying to make my tracks the hardest to follow. I hopped from bus to bus all over the Scottish central belt until I reached the borders. From there, I caught a southbound train at one of the tiny rural stations. I assumed they would check the main stations in Glasgow, but it would take weeks to check each of the backwater villages. The train took me to Manchester, where I caught a last minute flight to Spain. Then a series of buses and cabs took me through the Spanish countryside, from one small family-run hotel to another. Luckily, they were a bit cheaper than the more touristy places by the sea or in the big cities.

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