Chapter 23
Jace drives Skylar and I to this cute little Italian restaurant. Skylar tries to flirt the entire way. For some reason, she really likes him. He is all scary and shit, but she doesn’t seem to mind. I have sort of become friends with him throughout the whole stalker thing. He is quiet but super funny, and I like his dark humor. He can probably kill me with his pinky finger, but that’s alright. I think I’m beginning to understand him a little better.
Sitting in the back seat of the car, listening to Skylar try, and fail, to seduce him is really funny. Normally, guys fall at her feet, but Jace isn’t just some guy. He is closed off. He doesn’t care about normal feelings; I am honestly not sure he has feelings. The man enjoys killing people for a living, I don’t think regular human feelings apply to him. Jace is more demon than man.
The fragrant smell of spices permeates the air as we walk in the door, and my stomach growls in anticipation. The hostess seats us at a cute little table in the back of the restaurant. The area is secluded enough, so Jace can relax a little bit. He takes his phone out and texts a few people who I assume are watching us. Going out these days is somewhat of a hassle, but knowing that my guys have their best men watching and protecting me, makes it easier to cope with all the chaos.
Dinner has been so fun. Sitting, eating pasta, and having a good laugh is exactly what I needed; the stress of the week has really gotten to me. Michael forcing Knox to marry Maeve and moving the wedding up, and then the stalker leaving a creepy note on our front door. I can’t seem to catch a fucking break. The guys and I are finally in a good place, but it seems like everyone is doing their best to ruin our happiness.
Jace notices something out of the corner of his eye. Sitting up straighter, he texts someone, then the rest of our men converge on me. I don’t know what he saw, but there is now a group of men acting as human shields in front of me. Jace starts barking out orders, ushering Skylar and me out the back door, when all of a sudden, a strong smell hits my nose. Dizziness sets in until all I can hear are voices in the distance. I realize someone put a cloth over my face, and they are trying to kidnap me.
I slowly come back to my senses, unsure how long I have been out. Looking around, I notice I am in the back seat of a car. The leather seats are rough against my skin, and whoever took me obviously didn’t buckle me in as I slid across the seat. Gunfire rings through my ears, and I keep my head as low as possible, so I don’t get hit in the crossfire. Although it may be better than where I am headed. I do my best not to make a sound and try to remain calm, but I am still out of it from whatever my kidnapper gave me, and my stomach recoils as we turn a corner going way too fast. Turning my head, I throw up on the floor of the car. I’m having a hard time trying to clear my head, but I realize I have to get out of this car. I need a way for my men to find me. Sitting up within the limited space I have, I notice we are no longer in a part of town I am familiar with. With my hands tied in front of me, I feel around my bracelet. It’s my only hope of them finding me. By now, I imagine they are aware I’ve been taken.
Feeling around for the bracelet, I realize the person who kidnapped me must have taken it off. My heart starts to beat faster, my breaths shortening, as I realize that no one is coming for me; I will have to save myself. I reach for the driver, trying to catch him off guard, and the idiot tied my hands in front of me, so I use that to my benefit as I throw my arms over his head and try to choke him out.
The driver hits my temple with the butt of his gun, trying to get me to release my hold around his neck, and I feel blood trickle down my face from the blow, but I can’t let that stop me. I need to get out of here. Doubling down on my efforts, I try and tighten my hold, but the driver takes a rough right turn, causing my body to smack into the car door. Pain radiates through the left side of my body, and another blow lands on my face, knocking me out.
When I wake up, my head is throbbing, and I have pain all down my left side. I can feel dried blood on my face and quickly notice I am being carried. I kick and scream until they drop me on my ass. Pain radiates up my tailbone from the fall, but I quickly stand and punch this bald fucker in the face. My hand crunches, but before I can turn and run, someone else grabs me from behind. I had not realized they were there. I look around and see we are in a warehouse of some sort, and there are trees surrounding us. I’m not sure how long I have been out, but it must have been a while because the sun is shining brightly in the sky. We must have driven a long time to get to wherever it is. Feeling defeated, I stop fighting. I need to keep my strength up. Not sure what they are going to do to me, but I need to prepare myself for anything.
After being carried down to a basement, the bald guy and his friend tie me to a hook in the center of the room, my arms dangling in the air, my feet barely touching the ground. My captors walk out of the room, and I sigh in relief. Looking around me, I don’t find anything that I can use to escape; the only way out is that door that they just left through. The musty smell gets to my nose, and I wonder why basements don’t ever smell like sunshine and roses. I sneeze, and it causes pain to shoot through my entire body.
I have been hanging here for a while, when I hear the door open. The bald fuck and his friend walk through, greeting me with their presence. The burly fucker stands off to the side while the bald one comes up to me and throws a punch to my gut. Cursing in pain, I spit in his face, and that earns me another shot to the ribs. Baldy starts asking me questions about the guys such as, “Where are they? What are they up to?” Like I would fucking talk to them. Maintaining my silence earns me blow after blow to my body. I think he cracked a rib with one of the punches, but I stay strong, refusing to answer any of their questions. Realizing that I am not going to say anything, they both leave, but not before taking me off the hook. Sighing in relief, I rub my wrists the best I can to get the blood circulating in my arms again.
My torture continues for a few days as I fade in and out of conscience. Every time they come in, I get beaten to a pulp, but I’ve still kept my mouth shut about the guys. When Baldy comes in and stands in front of me, he asks another question that I refuse to answer, so he throws another punch at me..
“Come on, even I can hit harder than that,” I say as I spit in my captor’s face. Blood runs down my chin, dripping steadily to the floor while I laugh. Taunting the man currently who is beating me with his fists may not be my best idea, but I’ve never been one to make intelligent decisions, hence why I am tied up right now, hanging from a hook. Man, this hurts like a bitch, but I refuse to say that out loud to the dickhead punching me. I do not recommend getting kidnapped. I would rate this experience a one out of ten; do not recommend. I may have a few broken ribs, but at least I am still enough of a smartass to piss off this asshole.
“Tell me what your boyfriends are up to Meadow, and I will make this much less painful for you,” the asshole says. I bet he has a stupid name like Kyle or Tanner, but until I find out, I’ll keep calling him asshole or dickhead.
“You’re never going to get that information out of me. I don’t know why you’re trying,” I tell the asshole. Like I would give up the men I love. Yeah, I am crazy. I fell for three dickheads, not one, you know, because I’m an overachiever. But having three boyfriends does have its benefits, like unlimited, fantastic sex and mind-blowing orgasms. It also has its downsides because sometimes a girl just wants to be left alone, but they can tell when I need alone time; I have known them since I was six. I am wrenched from my daydream about my men when the asshole throws another punch at my stomach, making me grunt; how rude.
“Listen, bitch, tell me now, or I will be forced to get creative and ruin your pretty face with my knife,” Baldy says.
“As I told you before, do what you want because I will not tell you anything, you stupid fuck. Do you not understand? I know you’re a bit slow, but Jesus Christ, how many times do I have to repeat myself? I may as well get a parrot at this point.”
The bald fuck walks away, cursing me under his breath until I hear the basement door slam shut behind him. The same basement I am currently tied up in. I let out a painful sigh of relief. Every time I breathe my chest rattles, and a slight wheezing noise follows, which makes me question if something is wrong with my lungs or if it’s because of my ribs. I can’t take a full breath without wanting to cry out from the pain. My arms are killing me; I think I’ve lost all circulation in them, and it feels like my shoulder is dislocated from being tied up in this position for so long. A burn is shooting down my arm like a rocket, and the pins and needles sensations also lead me to believe my shoulder needs to pop back into place. The rope tied tightly around my hands feels as if it’s rubbing me raw; there are angry red marks around my cracked and bleeding wrists.
I can barely touch the floor, and if I stand on my tiptoes, I can reach enough to relieve some of the pressure on my arms, but I can’t hold that position for long. I could try to find something to help me get loose, but it’s not like I can see much; one of my eyes is swollen shut, and I know the other isn’t far off since all I can see is a dull light, barely bright enough to make anything out, so I feel as if I am in the dark. I think they need to change the bulb, or maybe they just keep it that way to be mysterious. My left eye is throbbing, and it feels like I am staring into a dark abyss with how swollen it is.
There is a salty, metallic taste in my mouth from when the bastard punched me earlier, and when I spit on the ground, I see blood mixed with my saliva. The asshole also broke a few bones in my hand, getting me here. I might have broken them on his face, but it was his fault. I will never be one of those girls who doesn’t fight back because the man is bigger. I punched him in the face, but then I felt a crunch, and instant pain shot up my right arm. It was worth it, though. It caught him by surprise, and I almost got away. Well, I would have if it wasn’t for his friend’s help. Cataloging my injuries, I find I have a broken hand, raw wrists, a dislocated shoulder, swollen eyes, broken ribs, and possibly a lung issue. I could be worse off right now. I just need to hold out until Knox, Phoenix, and Aidan get here. I am not sure how long I have been down here, but it feels like at least two days; I only say that because they come in and interrogate me for a few hours at a time. They lower me to the ground but not gently. When they lift me off the hook, it’s both a blessing and a curse because all the blood starts to flow through my limbs again.
The pain grows unbearable to the point where I crawl to the corner of the musky-smelling basement and throw up bile because I haven’t been fed since getting dragged here, only a few sips of water here and there so I don’t die. Lucky me. So now, among the dirt and mildew smell, there is vomit, piss, and the lovely metallic smell of blood, which all happen to be coming from me. Over the past two days, I have been beaten, stripped of my clothes, so I am naked for everyone to see, and had photos taken photos of me; I hope they got my good side. Thankfully, the only one who beats me is the bald asshole. I don’t know how long I would have lasted if it was the other guy; he looks like Mike Tyson and Shaq had a baby. That begs the question of why the little, bad guy is beating me when one punch from Mike Jr. would send me to see the devil in all his forms.
When the bald fuck walked away this last time, he left me hanging, which generally doesn’t happen. If he gets pissed enough, he usually drops me on my ass, which is also bruised, storms out, and slams the door. Since I’m still dangling on this fucking hook, I know nothing good can be coming. If only I could get the loop off the hook above me. Then I could strangle Baldy. I don’t know where Mike Jr. is, though, so that could be an issue if I ever do manage to get out. I hear the familiar sound of the metal door creaking open; it sounds like it needs WD-40 or maybe an exorcism. You know, like those damn scary movies that advertise, ‘Hey, bad guy, I am in here’ because the door isn’t quiet. Yeah, that’s what it sounds like. I peer over with my one semi-good eye and find Baldy is back, but this time, he is holding something shiny and small. Well, this can’t be good.
Baldy comes up to me and smiles his teeth yellow and breath rancid, dude need to brush his fucking teeth. “You may not have talked before, let’s see if you talk now,” he says as he places the blade on my breasts and slides it across my skin, cutting me. I scream out in pain. Blood starts running down my naked body, and he goes to the other breast and cuts again.
“You going to talk now, bitch?” Baldy asks.
I shake my head ‘no’ and remain silent, no matter how much pain I am in. Opening my eyes, I watch as he takes the knife and stabs it into my side. Screams penetrate the air, and not realizing they came from me, I look down. My side feels like someone stuffed a hot poker inside my body, and as he removes the knife, the pain gets worse. My eyes get heavy, and I realize I am about to pass out. I curse at him one last time before the darkness sets in.
Waking up on the floor, I feel something hard on top of me. Unable to move, I look up and find the bald guy on top of me. I try and move but realize I am pinned down. Looking around, I figure out he is inside me. I have no idea how long he has been inside me, and I thrash and move when I hear a grunt. The bald guy finishes in me, dirtying me, ruining my life more than he already had. He whispers in my ear, “Good luck with your guys wanting you now. You’re used goods; they won’t touch you again.” Tears fall down my cheeks as reality sets in that he may very well be right. They love me but I don’t think that will be enough this time.
The days blend together, the same torture day after day. He comes in and uses my body for his pleasure, and sometimes the burly one joins in, and then they leave. His days of punching me are over, but this is worse. I don’t know how long I have been here, but I wish they would just let me die. I don’t want to do this another day. I am broken inside and out. Sometimes when he uses my body, he also uses his knife, carving things into my skin. On my back I think he carved the word ‘mine’ into my skin; it turns him on to watch me bleed. My entire body is broken, along with my heart, as I eventually realize the guys aren’t coming to save me like they promised.
Days turn into weeks, and the weeks turn into months. I am not sure how long I have been down here, but if I had to guess, I would say around three months. No sign of hope. The kidnappers even leave me untied now, knowing I won’t run. Where would I go? I have nothing. They made sure of that. They bring me upstairs to bathe twice a week, so I don’t stink. I guess having me smell doesn’t do it for them. I mean I can’t blame them; I was getting pretty rancid. The cuts Baldy made have healed and turned into scars. My skin is now covered in crisscrossing white lines. Some of them are red and still healing. One thing is for sure. I am not the same person I was before I was taken. I don’t even want the guys to find me anymore.
Baldy is on top of me again, grunting in my ear about being a good bitch for him. Today he has his knife, and he marks one breast with letters that I assume are his initials, DS. As he finishes carving the S, a loud bang echoes through the basement, shouts ring in my ears. Baldy quickly finishes and gets off me. I move over to the corner of the room, shielding myself from potential danger. I have endured enough; I can’t handle anything else. Bullets are flying, hitting the walls as the demon door creaks open. Two shots ring out, and I cover my ears, screaming as I try to curl up into the corner as best I can so none of the shots hit me.
I look around and watch as Baldy hits the ground with a thud. The next thing I know, someone is grabbing me, so I thrash in their arms, trying to get away. Someone screams my name, and eventually awareness returns enough that I realize its Knox. He is the one grabbing me, but that’s not right. They aren’t here. They aren’t real, they can’t be. If they were, they would have saved me months ago. Something pricks my neck, and I embrace the comfort of darkness and let it take me away.
To be continued……