CHAPTER TWENTY ONE

NUMB

sat across from her pregnant stepmother, a scowl on the woman's face. She was complaining about Charles' youngest daughter for the trillionth time since she had come to live with them. The teenager had learned to tune out Angela within the first week she had arrived.

"She doesn't need therapy, Charles! She's a hormonal teenage brat that just wants attention and money!"

"Angel! My daughter was sleeping with a thirty year old man. That isn't normal for a teen girl. There's clearly underlying trauma that needs to be addressed."

It was an age old debate that had been ongoing since the moment Charles' private plane had touched down in New York and Cynthia has been introduced to the new wife she didn't know her father had.

Her father had been insisting that his daughter go talk to a therapist but Angela always countered his idea with hurtful words and judgmental statements. In the end, she always won and the girl hadn't spoken to a professional in the three months she had lived in New York.

Cynthia excused herself from the dinner table without saying a word. Leaving her hardly touched dinner on the table.

"And where the hell do you think you're going?" Angela practically hissed. She couldn't wait to see the girl go but just had to say something about the girl leaving.

"To my room." The teenager deadpanned, her voice monotone.

"Don't fucking talk back to me. Your bitch of a mother may have taken attitude from you and your father may be spineless when it comes to disciplining you but I'm not them!"

Three months of unrelenting comments and retorts from Angela had built up and the dam finally gave way, causing an overflow of words to come spilling past Cindy's lips.

"Ya know what, Angela? You're right. You aren't my parents so I don't understand why you think just because you have Charles wrapped around your finger and fucked him means you can act like a parent to me. You've only known me for three months and have treated me like utter shit so even if you were my parent... you would be a horrible one. That just means whatever spawn of Satan get pushed out of your vagina is going to have a bitch of a mother. And just so you know Angela, I don't want my fathers money and I may be hormonal but it's part of growing up. You would know all about that wouldn't you? Seeing as how you haven't grown up yet practically bullying a girl half your age and all. I do have trauma because neither of my parents were there to coddle me like yours were and instead gave me freedom and money in their place. So yea, I do think I need to see a fucking therapist but maybe it's better if you see one instead of me."

The two adults sat in silence, both flabbergasted by the girls outburst. Shock and bewilderment was present on their facial features as Cindy started to walk out of the room.

"Cynthia Blaine! Get back here!" Her stepmother started to yell.

"It's Saint! I came from my father's ball sack whether you like it or not!" She called back, sticking out her middle finger as she disappeared from sight.

She slammed the door once she entered the bedroom. It was another thing that Angela hated so she was hoping she was rubbing salt in the woman's wound.

"Charles, if you don't do something about Cynthia, I will."

Those were the last few words Cindy heard before she put in her earbuds and finished some last minute paperwork that needed to be done in order for her to attend the private Catholic school that had been picked out of her to attend... by her stepmother of course.

voices started off as muffled murmurs, only background noises in her dream. However, as they got louder, Cindy's subconscious finally forced her out of her dream. Her eyelids tried to open, the dark of 2 A.M. surrounding her.

"Dude, if you don't shut the fuck up, our covers literally going to be blown."

She was fully awake now, sitting straight up in her bed, sheets held tightly to her chest. Her heart was racing.

"Oh yea? Well you aren't exactly the lightest fucking dude. I should have been the one to climb into her room."

The girl sat frozen in fear, her eyes glued to her open window.

Why had she left the window open?

Did she leave the window open?

Her heart rate sped up as she heard the voices get louder, signaling that whomever was trying to reach her window was close.

"You know damn well I threw my back out last week in Dubai during that drug deal gone bad."

She finally got the nerve to leave her bed, her feet slowly shuffling across the carpet to the side of the open window. She kept her back pressed against the wall, practically holding her breath. She watched the opening out of the corner of her eye... waiting.

"Just shut your mouth and hurry up. We're on a tight schedule since someone had to stop and get snacks."

"It was a long drive!"

She saw a hand enter her room, ten fingers curling around the window sill. Acting quickly, Cindy pushed on the window locks and slammed it shut as hard and as fast as she could.

A scream of bloody murder was heard and then a thud. Whomever had been holding onto the sill was now sprawled out on the grass below.

She watched from the second story of her father's mansion as two men collected themselves and managed to stand up.

"Fucking brat!"

"I told you to shut up! Now we have to do this the hard way."

The man who appeared to be less injured pulled a gun from the waistband of his pants. The girl's eyes went wide in complete fear. She was dead, so dead.

"Charles!" She called out into the quiet house, backing away from the glass. "Dad!"

Silence answered her instead of her father. Taking off, she ran down the hallway to the master bedroom. Throwing open the door, she was met with an empty room. Where the fuck was her father?

"Angela!" Cindy called further into the house, bile rising in her throat at the thought of being completely alone at 2 A.M. while men twice her size tried to get into the house.

Remembering her phone, she sped back to her room, eyes frantically searching in the dark for it. She had placed it on the dresser before going to sleep. It wasn't there. She scanned the room again. It was gone.

Charles didn't have a land line, there had been no need for one. There should be no reason why a teenager didn't have their phone with them at all times.

Panic completely set in and the girl thought she was going to throw up what little dinner she had eaten on the tiger wood floors.

She would be fine. Charles had state of the art security. He was the owner of a tech company after all.

The security system!

Getting an idea, Cindy raced down the stairs, taking them two at a time, and almost falling on her face twice. There would be an emergency button that allowed her to call the police. All she had to do was reach it. In the mean time, it would be harder for the intruders to get in.

Reaching the bottom of the stairs, her eyes zeroed in on the dim panel that controlled the security system. Without a second thought, the girl ran for it. Adrenaline coursing through her veins, she reached the panel, not even noticing the two men on the other side of the glass front door.

She took a deep breath, forcing her panicking body to focus on the screen.

"STATUS: DISARMED".

Cindy shook her head, rereading the two words over and over again. Disarmed? Why the hell was it disarmed?

The handle of the front door turned and gave way. There had been no resistance. The door had been unlocked.

Realizing the hard truth that nothing stood between Cindy and the men that wanted so desperately to reach her, she went to mash the emergency button on the panel.

She saw her fingers millimeters from the button before she was being pulled backwards. She had been so close, so close to safety.

"No!" She screamed, thrashing violently as the force of one became two. Both men were now pulling her away from the security system.

Cindy tried to make herself as heavy as possible, making herself go limp as to be dead weight. She drug her heels, trying to resist them in anyway possible.

"They said she would be an easy target!" One of the men said, grunting as she fought back. "Go get the chloroform out of the car."

His partner left and the girl immediately took advantage of the situation. Tugging hard, she managed to break free of his grip, the sudden movement giving her an advantage.

She headed for the button once more, determined to push it even if it was the last thing she did.

"Cynthia Saint, if you push that button, I swear I'll shoot you."

She froze, two feet away from her life line. She could make it but she'd be dead once she pushed the button.

Cynthia's adrenaline started to dissipate, the heaviness of the situation sinking in. She gave into the men.

Her world went black.