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“Just let me out here. I can walk. No one needs to find out about this…”
With each passing moment, my resistance ebbs, the futility of my efforts etched into my consciousness. I fight to control my breathing, to quell the fear that threatens to consume me if I let it. The weight of the situation bears down on me, but I don’t know how to confront it.
By the time the car stops, I have run out of protests. The sudden stillness is still jarring though, I don’t like it one bit. My heart pounds in my chest, a frantic rhythm that echoes the uncertainty of my situation. The thick burlap sack still covers my head, shrouding me in darkness, but even without sight, I sense that a new chapter is about to unfold. And not a good one.
The muffled sounds of movement surround me, voices murmuring in hushed tones. I know that my captors are preparing to take me out of the vehicle, to lead me into the unknown. Panic surges within me, a visceral reaction to the idea of being confined in an unfamiliar place, hidden from the world, so they can do whatever they want to me…
No way, not on my watch. I can’t let that happen. No matter what.
My instincts kick in as the car door opens and hands reach for me. My bound hands flail against my restraints, my body wriggling as I fight against the impending capture. The struggles of a cornered animal fuel my defiance, and I kick and squirm, a tempest of resistance in the midst of the horrible evening that has swept me off my feet in a really bad way.
“I won’t go! Let me go!” I cry out, my voice muffled by the cloth that covers my mouth. My words are a battle cry, a declaration of my refusal to be contained. Fear mingles with determination, and for a brief moment, the darkness of the sack seems to intensify, closing in on me like a cage.
But my captors are unyielding, their grip unbreakable as they tug at me. The ground beneath my feet shifts as they guide me out of the car, my world now a cacophony of sensations – the cool night air against my skin, the sound of footsteps on the road, the thudding of my heart…
I don’t give up the fight though. My body remains a whirlwind of resistance. I lash out and scream, my movements fueled by a frantic need to regain some kind of control. I’ve been thrust into a nightmare, and every instinct within me screams for me to fight, to defy the hands that seek to lead me into the terrifying abyss that I might not be able to get out of.
With a final surge of effort, I fight against the hands that hold me, my voice a muted cry of defiance. But even as my struggles weaken, my spirit remains unbroken. The fight within me is a testament to my unwillingness to be silenced no matter what’s happening to me. I won’t easily be trapped in a narrative that has been written without my consent.
But eventually, my resistance becomes a flicker in the night and they get the better of me. They lead me into the unknown building until I hear a door click locked behind me, making my heart sink. I guess this is really happening then, whateverthisis.
“In here,” a gruff voice hisses as I’m shoved into a smaller space. A room, I assume. I can almost feel the walls closing in around me. “Now, I’m taking off the sack.”
“You want me to see you?”
Of course I want the sack gone, I hate the damn thing. But once it is, and I lay eyes on these people, enough to be able to identify them, then I won’t get out of this alive.
“I’m not too worried about you being disappointed if that’s what you mean.”
His arrogance rolls off of him in waves as he snatches off the sack. It takes me a couple of seconds to blink enough to let the light settle on my retinas. To see the bald headed muscular man who has brought me here for whatever reason. There’s a twinkle in his piercing green eyes, like I should recognize him or something, but I don’t. Who the fuck is this and what does he want?
“See? Not disappointed, are you?” He offers me a blasé one shouldered shrug. “Told ya.”
“Whatisthis?” I snap as I pull at my hands a little. The bonds that restrain me dig into my skin a little too hard, a constant reminder of my vulnerability. But I won’t lethimsee that. Silently, I writhe and twist, desperately trying to free myself from the unforgiving grip of their restraints. My heart races as I cling to the tiny flicker of hope that still burns within me.
“Colt is the name,” he barks. “If you need all the details about me.”
“I don’t know if you expect me to say my name.”
“Lily Crowe. I already know everything there is to know about you, sweetheart.”
I scowl at the sneer that seems to be permanently etched on his face. As he edges closer to me, his cold eyes bear into me, a mix of irritation and amusement dancing within their depths. He tries to reach for me, but I pull away, refusing to be touched.
“Oh I see, you don’t want to be freed.” He chuckles throatily. “You kinky, huh? You like being tied up? I bet that’s something Daddy would love to know about you.”
“Huh, so thisisall because of my father then.” I roll my eyes in an over-the-top dramatic fashion. “Great, just what I need to end this already shitty day. Just fucking perfect.”
I let him touch me this time, burning in the strange adrenaline running through my veins. I don’t like the feel of him, but at least he really does seem to be freeing my wrists. I could use the opportunity to move. Whatever freedoms I can get, I will take.
“There, isn’t that better? If you just be a good girl for me, then…”
But he doesn’t get to finish that sentence. Before he can say another word, I swing with all the force that I can muster. My fist connects with his jaw in a resounding crack, the impact reverberating through my knuckles. It’s a punch fueled by desperation, anger, and a sheer refusal to bend and I hope this Colt guy feels all of that.
Colt’s head snaps to the side, a look of shock replacing the arrogance that was there moments before. He stumbles back, his balance disrupted by the unexpected force of my blow. I hadn’t anticipated that my strike would be so potent, but I’m glad for it. The pain in my knuckles is a small price to pay for the momentary advantage it has given me.
Breathing heavily, I watch as Colt regains his footing, his hand moving to his jaw where a red mark is already forming. His eyes glint with a dangerous mixture of fury and new found respect. I know that this is far from over, that my defiance has only stoked the flames of their determination to break me. To get to my father. Urgh, it’s so annoying.
As Colt’s hand drops from his jaw, he straightens, a malicious grin spreading across his face. “Feisty one, aren’t you?” he growls, the words carrying a dangerous promise.
