Stolen Identity: Mute Heiress-Chapter 205: Nancy

Ryan stared at the lady tied up in the wooden chair across from him, his lips twisted with disgust at her disheveled state. 𝒻𝓇𝑒𝘦𝘸𝑒𝒷𝓃ℴ𝑣𝘦𝑙.𝒸ℴ𝘮

Her blonde hair looked messy, like she hadn’t brushed it in days. The yellow strands fell over her thin, tired face.

Her skin was pale and a little gray. There were purple shadows under her eyes. Her cheeks were hollow, and her lips were cracked and dry.

Her hands were shaking as she picked at the hem of her old sweater. Her fingernails were bitten down to the skin.

Her eyes were blue but dull, like the light inside them had burned out. She looked much older than she really was. Anyone who looked at her would know that she was sick.

"Long time no see, Karen," he said as he stared at her with cold, angry eyes, while patting the gun on his thighs.

"You wanted to kill me, what did you expect? Did you think I was gonna stay around and wait for you to kill me?" she said in a weak scratchy voice.

"Yeah. I wanted to kill you. And as you can see, I still want to. I’ve spent a really long time searching for you. You are really good at hiding," he said, and she laughed.

"I am. So, how did you manage to find me anyway?"

"Haven’t you been in contact with Genevieve this whole time?" Ryan asked and she shook her head.

"No. I haven’t spoken with Genevieve in years..." she trailed off when Ryan laughed.

"You haven’t?" Ryan asked, and she nodded.

"Look at you, Karen. Am I supposed to believe a word that comes out of the mouth of a crackhead like you?" He asked, pointing at her with the gun.

She scowled at him, "So, you got my number from Genevieve? That little slut!" She hissed angrily.

"No. I didn’t get your number from her," he said with a smirk.

The moment Pete told him about Genevieve being blackmailed, he had called his source at the bank to check her account statement and give him the details of any recipient she had been sending outrageous sums to.

He had asked his men to use the details to find her, and they already did that before Pete gave the number to him.

"I wish she had come to me and told me about the blackmail. I have no idea why she chose to protect someone like you," he said with a shake of his head.

She snorted, "Someone like me? I am her mother! I raised her alone after you impregnated me and abandoned..." the rest of her words were lost when Ryan slapped her hard.

"I impregnated you? Do you think I would have ever touched someone like you if you didn’t slip whatever you did into my drink? You were Nancy’s friend yet you did that to me. Are you really stupid enough to think after all these years I wouldn’t find out the truth about Genevieve?" He roared, his eyes burning with anger.

She jumped in surprise, and a shadow of fear crossed her eyes but she quickly masked it. "When did you find out?"

"The only reason you’re still alive right now is because you owe me some answers. That’s the only thing stopping me from sinking a bullet in that empty skull of yours. And I’m going to get those answers from you by any means necessary before I get rid of you for good. The world is better off without someone like you."

"Someone like me? You’re worst than I am. Besides, what makes you think I’m going to say anything now that I know you plan to kill me whether or not I talk?" She asked with a sneer.

"Because I’m going to torture you slowly until you do, and I will relish every moment of it. You see, I could have easily asked my men to get the answers out of you and get rid of you. But this is too important to me. I had to fly down myself. That means I won’t be leaving without my answers," he said with a cold smile that sent a shudder through her.

"Now I’m going to ask you once, what truly happened to Nancy?" He asked, staring at her with impatient eyes.

"You know what happened..."

"No. I know what you told me happened, and then when you found out I was uncovering the truth, you disappeared," Ryan said, and she smirked.

"If you uncovered the truth already, why are you asking me? Didn’t you kill everyone you know were involved already? Or you think I don’t know that was the reason you married Kimberly and murdered her and her parents?" She asked, and a muscle twitched in Ryan’s jaw as he watched her.

Without saying a word he aimed the gun at her right foot and shot at the big toe.

Karen let out an ear piercing scream as the pain shot through her, and Ryan smiled coldly. "I’m going to call in the doctor to treat the wound, and then we will continue. I will shoot off one toe at a time and the doctor will be on standby to treat you until you give me the answer I want. And if you still don’t give me the right answers by the time we exhaust your toes, we will move to your hands," he promised as he rose, ignoring her cry.

"While he cleans you up, think long and hard about the next response you give me, because trust me, I won’t run out of ways to torture you," he warned as he stepped out of the room, and immediately a doctor walked in with a box, letting her know Ryan meant all he said. He had come there with the intention to get the truth from her by whatever means necessary and he wasn’t leaving until he got it.

Away from there, Callan drove into his compound and he parked in front of his house without bothering to step out of the car.

He stared at the house, but his mind was far away from there as he thought about all that Jamal had just told him.

Genevieve was Karen Combs’ daughter and she was being blackmailed by her? Just how did Karen Combs raise Genevieve for her to have such pictures?

It seemed like Karen Combs and his foster mother shared a lot in common. He ran his fingers through his hair as he thought about it.

If that was the kind of person she was, then it was best they both abandoned him after all. What sort of life would he have had, had his foster mother returned him to his biological mother instead of leaving him at the orphanage home?

She probably knew that he was better off at the orphanage than with such a worthless mother.

With a deep sigh he got out of the car, and his steps were heavy as he walked to the door.

Inside the house, only one light was on and that was the light in the passage way but he could see that the television was on and it cast shadows on Emily, who was sitting on the couch, her legs tucked under her as she watched some cooking show.

She turned when she heard the door. "You’re back," she said before she could stop herself.

She winced inwardly. She sounded like some housewife, who had been waiting for her husband all day.

Callan stood by the hallway door. "Yeah. How was your first day at the hospital?" He asked, thinking about what his therapist had said about opening up to her.

How could he possibly open up to someone as innocent as Emily. Her world view was perfect and he didn’t want to be the one to taint that. She’d never understand the kind of things he had done and experienced.

She shrugged. "Eventful," she said, oblivious to his inner turmoil. "Callan Quinn was all the ladies wanted to talk about, thanks to your little show-off at the party."

Callan let out a tired breath. "It’s good to know I’m the subject of gossip. I bet you added your share to the conversation," he muttered.

"Of course I contributed. I gave my two cents. I told them I thought a guy like that must be an arrogant jerk," she said, wondering why he wasn’t being his usual cocky self.

Callan gave her a flat look. "I expected that much."

For a moment, neither of them said anything.

"Did you have dinner?" he asked quietly.

"Yes," she said, watching him closely. "Are you okay? Did something happen at work?" She asked curiously observing his rather glum demeanor.

"Yeah. I’m just tired. I’m off to bed. Goodnight," he said, turning away.

"Wait! Have you eaten?" She asked, sounding more concerned than she wanted to be.

"I’m not hungry. I just want to freshen up and go to bed," he said and walked down the hallway without looking back.

She watched him go, her heart squeezing in her chest. She wanted to say something, to ask if he was really okay or say something to cheer him. But the words caught in her throat.

All she could do was sit there, watching his shadow disappear down the hall.

Remembering what Jamal said about him being lonely most times, and recalling his mother’s request to take care of him, she rose from her seat and headed for the kitchen.

She took out some left over food from the refrigerator then heated it up in the microwave. Against her better judgement she headed for Callan’s bedroom with the tray.