After approximately six years of writer's block, I (finally) give you the next chapter! ...
CHAPTER VII
BAD BLOOD
"So, Pep, when are you going to ditch that heartless millionaire boyfriend of yours and run away with me?" The man's voice was terse, yet smug. Without the voice manipulation software he'd used on the phone, Pepper thought, he sounded like a college frat boy. And, as the man took one large step toward her in the small, windowless cell of a room, she thought he looked the part, too.
Her eyes scanned the length of his towering scrawny frame. He was lanky and awkward in a trendy baby blue suit and Sperry Topsiders. His hands kept flying nervously to his pockets, where he rummaged around as if looking for something, or grappled impatiently at the buttons. Instead of a dress shirt beneath the jacket, a broad white V-neck t-shirt allowed the smallest glimpse of chest hair. His neck was long, his face angular and bony but chiseled. If Pepper didn't know any better, she'd say he looked like a thinner, nerdier, and more anxious Tom Cruise.
That was, until she saw the thick, jagged red scar that ripped across an entire side of his face.
The glaring blemish began at his right eyebrow, curved down around the right cheek, and ended in one sweeping stroke at his cupid's bow. It resembled a snake, slithering around his eye, and ending, mouth agape in attack, just above the man's own mouth. The mutilation of an otherwise-pretty face. If he weren't her captor, after all, Pepper might've felt a pang of remorse for the man. Who, or what, could've done this?
"Mmmmth!" Pepper's reply was more of a passionate, strained grunt.
The thick cut of turquoise fabric that had been haphazardly tied around her mouth and nose was preventing much talking- or breathing for that matter. The rest of her restraints were equally as amateur but incapacitating. Her arms, legs, and torso were immobilized by a mix of Duct Tape and metal-plated cables, tying her taut to a bamboo kitchen chair. It was the only piece of furniture in the claustrophobic room—if you could call this crude restraint furniture.
"What was that, Pep?" The lanky man let out a nervous laugh. The devious smile that tugged at the corners of his thin lips elongated the serpentine scar, giving the red reptile a menacing girth.
Pepper thrashed in her seat. "Mmmmthhhhh!"
"Frankly, I don't know what you see in him. What was it, now? The fortune? The brains?" He stole a glance at Pepper's scowl then let out another chuckle. "'Cuz, lemme tell you, Sweetheart, I've got that. I've got it by the buckets! I went to MIT, too, y'know. Or, tell me,was it the fame? That, my dear, I'm working on. You'll see. I'll have everything Stark has. And more."
"Mmmthhhh mthhhhhhhhehhhh!"
"What was that, Sweetheart? I'm afraid I couldn't hear you." The man chuckled at that one. This time, though, he stepped forward to pull the turquoise fabric down from her face.
Pepper sputtered for a moment, reveling at the chance to take the first deep breath in what seemed like hours. Then, without missing a beat, she raised her voice.
"You will never amount to half the man that Tony is! You, you… rat!" She spat the words as vehemently as she knew how, but she felt her voice quivering.
"Oh, please! Do you really believe all that garbage?" the man laughed louder this time. "You and I both know that you and Tony are hanging on by a thread. He's narcissistic, irresponsible, money-hungry, a playboy…should I go on?"
For the first time, Pepper's hardened gaze fell to the floor and she heaved a sigh. Then, unconvincingly, she lifted her head to meet his bemused stare. Her eyes were red.
"You know nothing!" she spat back halfheartedly.
"Oh, I don't? I know nothing about how the two of you have been dating for 3 years and still no proposal? That Stark's received five speeding tickets in the last month alone, and has complete disregard for authority? That he's been in and out of counseling for PTSD after New York? Pepper, that man isn't in any shape for a relationship. Much less to run a company. And you know it."
Now, Pepper's lip began to quiver. "Who are you?"
"Silly me, forgetting my introductions. Where are my manners!"
Pepper blinked back a few tears now, desperately trying to ward off the waterworks. She couldn't let him know she was scared. But what came next would've stricken fear in anyone.
"J.R. Overly. The soon-to-be CEO of Stark Industries."
