Please Harder, Professor

Chapter 211

Sophie’s POV

The car stops. Engine cuts off mid-acceleration, tires skidding on dirt that isn't paved road. Through the windshield: trees. Nothing but trees crowding close, branches reaching like they want to drag us under.

This is it. My only chance.

If I wait until we reach wherever he's taking me, I'll be trapped. No witnesses, no escape routes, no one to hear me scream.

But right now, right here, I'm still in motion, still have momentum. The door isn't locked yet, Bellamy's hands are on the wheel, and there's forest all around us.

Run now or die later.

My wedding dress crinkles as I reach for the door handle. Tulle and lace everywhere, layers of white fabric.

"Sophie, wh—"

The door opens before Bellamy can stop me. I stumble out of the car and run: no thoughts, no plan, just bolt into the forest in a designer gown that catches on every branch, every root, every piece of underbrush.

My heels sink into the soft earth immediately. Mud squelches around satin pumps that were never meant for anything more rugged than a church aisle.

Behind me, Bellamy shouts something. I don't hear the words over my pulse in my ears, over the crash of my body through vegetation. But he's running after me. I know he's running.

The wedding dress is a nightmare: fabric snags on thorns, tears audibly. I kick off one shoe, then the other, barely breaking stride. Barefoot now, dress hitched up around my knees with both fists, I push deeper into the trees.

Adrian. The thought hits like a physical blow.

He's waiting at the church, checking his watch, wondering where I am. And Amelia… Oh, Amelia. My throat closes thinking about her tiny face, the way she grabs my finger when I feed her, how she smells like baby shampoo and milk.

I'm not going to see her again—the certainty crashes through me with such force my vision blurs. Bellamy brought me here to kill me, to bury me where no one will find the body. Why else would you bring a person to the woods?

My foot catches, and the next second I'm falling. I hit the ground hard, dirt in my mouth, forest floor cold against my skin. Pain shoots through my palms. “Shit!..”

The footsteps become closer: steady, yet faster. Fatal.

I crawl backward, heels digging into earth, fingernails breaking against roots. My back hits a tree trunk.

"Please." The word breaks apart. "Please don't hurt me. I know we've had our difficulties, but if you just listen to me..."

Bellamy stops, stares at me. "What?"

I blink. My head can't process anything right now. "Isn't it why we're here? To murder me?"

Bellamy's face does something complicated—shock, maybe hurt, confusion bleeding through his professional mask. "Are you serious right now?"

"I just…"

"Jesus Christ…" His voice cuts through sharp, almost offended. "I'm not going to kill you, Sophie. I just wanted to talk. That's all."

I stare at him, chest heaving, covered in mud and torn lace. My wedding dress is ruined, streaked with dirt. There's blood on my hands from the fall.

"Talk?" My voice sounds hysterical. "You kidnapped me on my wedding day to talk?!"

"Yes."

A short pause of disbelief. Then: "Are you completely out of your mind?!"

"Maybe." He crouches to my level, careful not to touch me. "But I'm not going to hurt you. I would never hurt you."

"Then take me back!" My hands shake. "Adrian's waiting. Everyone's waiting. Let's just forget about what happened as a bad joke and…"

Bellamy shakes his head slowly, deliberately. "I can't do that."

"Then what?" I'm shouting now. "What do you want from me?"

"Time. Just time. Away from Adrian, away from the pressure. A chance to show you that we could be good together."

The laugh that escapes me sounds unhinged. "You think forcing me into the woods is going to convince me we're good together?"

He winces. "You need to stand up. Here, let me help you."

"Don't touch me."

"Sophie, your ankle…"

"I said don't touch me!" I try to stand but my ankle screams—twisted when I fell. I get halfway up before my leg gives out.

Bellamy moves before I can stop him and lifts me over his shoulder in one smooth motion. I let out a startled shudder and before I can react, Bellamy is already carrying me somewhere.

"Put me down!” I pound my fists against his back, kick my legs. His grip is firm but not bruising, professional even now. “Bellamy, enough! This isn’t funny anymore!"

He doesn't respond, just keeps walking through terrain I could barely run across.

The forest blurs past until we emerge into a clearing. A cabin sits there, modest and isolated: wood siding, small porch, windows reflecting afternoon light. It looks like someone's vacation rental, not like a prison.

"A house in the woods," I manage through the fabric and the angle. "How perfectly non-suspicious. Exactly what every well-adjusted person has."

Bellamy doesn't respond to the sarcasm. He climbs the porch steps, opens the door, and finally sets me down inside.

I stumble, catching myself against a wall. The interior is neat, almost cozy: living room with a leather couch and fireplace, small kitchen through an archway. There's even a bookshelf filled with paperbacks.

Everything is designed to look normal.

Bellamy closes the door. The lock clicks.

"What is this? What are you doing?"

"I told you. I need time with you."

"Time for what?"

"To show you that Adrian isn't the only option. That maybe there's something better if you'd just stop long enough to see it."

The sincerity in his voice is almost worse than threats. This isn't a ransom situation, this is delusion—him convincing himself that keeping me prisoner is somehow justified, somehow romantic.

I test the nearest window—locked. Move to another—also locked. I can see the small sliding locks on each one.

"Looking for a way out?" His voice stays calm. "You won't find one. I planned this carefully. The windows are secured, doors lock from the outside, no cell service out here."

I spin to face him. "Adrian will come for me. He'll tear the world apart looking for me."

"I know. That's why we're not staying long. Just enough time."

"And that’s your ‘genius’ evil plan?!" My voice rises. "Convince me to leave my daughter? To abandon the man I love? To fall for my kidnapper?"

"I don't expect you to fall for me." His voice stays level. "I just need you to see who I am without Adrian's shadow. To remember that we were friends once, that you trusted me, that there was something real between us."

"I trusted you as my security guard!" I'm screaming now. "As Adrian's friend, not as someone who would steal me on my wedding day!"

"I had to." Now there's emotion bleeding through—desperation, pain, something raw. "I couldn't watch you marry him, couldn't stand there knowing it was wrong, knowing he doesn't deserve you."

"That doesn't give you the right to kidnap me!" The words cut sharp. "Nothing makes this okay."

He flinches. "I know. But it's done now, and you're here, and like it or not, we’re gonna spend some time together."

Something in me shifts colder. If screaming isn't working, maybe manipulation will.

I force my voice quieter. "Adrian will use every resource to track us down. And when he does—you're going to prison. Kidnapping. False imprisonment."

Bellamy's jaw tightens.

I press harder. "Have you even thought about Noah, what will happen to him? Adrian will use him against you. He'll make sure you never see Noah again. He'll paint you as unstable, dangerous. And he'll win."

Real emotion cracks through. Pain flashes across his face, then guilt, doubt. His hands curl into fists.

Then a car horn honks outside—short, sharp blast—catching me off guard.

We both freeze. Bellamy moves to the window, looks out. His shoulders relax.

"You don't have to worry about that," he says, turning back. "Noah's taken care of."