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Piers and Hila

Piers

He watched, his face a cold, hard mask, reminiscent of his father, as the woman was hauled up, shackled, and her hands behind her back. Suitably restrained. He knew what a dangerous individual she was for he had gone through her bio. And he had no intention of letting her get away. As she was jerked roughly to the door, still in her T-shirt and shorts, her night clothes, the cat appeared. A large, aged tabby, who walked forward, tail in the air, an attitude of ownership in every fibre of its movement. Approaching her, it rubbed itself against her legs. She spoke then, in a throaty growl, her eyes, black marbles of anger, spearing him.

’See that the cat is fed.’ And as Piers met her gaze coldly, she added, through gritted teeth,

“Please.’

He nodded, a curt gesture and then, she was being forced into the car, two of his men flanking her, her hands behind her back, making her squirm uncomfortably. Piers sat in the front, and met her angry gaze in the rear view mirror as his cars sl
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