32. Fuck’s Sake Aspen
FUCK’S SAKE ASPEN
A spen
My head was throbbing, and I couldn’t remember why.
It felt as if I was hungover, only ten times worse than any hangover I’d experienced before.
I forced my eyes open, slowly they responded, blinking a few times as I tried to remember where I was or even how I’d gotten there.
It felt like I was moving, and I could smell the faint hint of leather.
I could feel subtle bumps and a scattering of lights passing by.
Slowly, it clicked in my mind that I was in the backseat of a vehicle, but I couldn’t make sense of who was in the front seat.
No music played, and the car didn’t smell familiar—cheap liquor and cigarettes were all I could make out aside from the leather seats beneath my face.
“Hello?” I asked into the darkness, my throat sore. I tried to take inventory of my injuries, but so far, all I could really notice was the pain in my head. Everything else seemed dull and incomparable.
“Don’t start, babe. We’re almost there,” the voice said from the front seat. Something about it felt familiar, as if I should know exactly who the dissident tone belonged to. I stared around for another few moments, trying to figure out what the fuck was going on.
I’d left work and I’d texted Rowan about something…dinner or a shower? Maybe? A bath. I texted him about running a bath for us.
Someone was behind me, and I dropped my phone.
I tried to move my arms to see if my phone was in my pocket, but I abruptly found they were tied behind my back.
That was when I noticed the cold metal around my wrists.
Handcuffs? What the fuck. How was I just noticing this?
Did I hit my—the images started flowing through my mind.
The other truck crashed into me, and I hit my head on something hard.
It was slowly coming back. Someone had come up and pulled me from Rowan’s truck on my way home after my shift had ended…oh, his truck. Fuck, I hope it wasn’t too damaged from the crash.
Fuck’s sake, Aspen, you’ve been kidnapped and cuffed in the back of another vehicle. Get your priorities straight right now.
I released a slow breath in a shitty attempt at calming myself.
I was about to start asking what I’m sure were stupid questions when the car made an abrupt turn, and I almost fell to the floor.
I bit back a cry as my body clenched, and the sharp stabbing pains throughout my body made me start truly questioning my injuries.
We, I assumed, pulled into a parking spot, and he turned off the vehicle.
“Listen to me very closely,” he started saying as he turned and looked back at me.
From the side profile, it started sinking in who I was looking at, and dread took over my entire body.
“If you scream? I will kill you. If you try to run for help? I kill you. If you make any attempt to get me arrested, injured, or otherwise disembark from my mission to take you back home? I fucking kill you. Am I clear, babe ?”
“Crystal,” I whispered.
“Good. Now, be a sweetheart, and lie back there quietly. I’m going to go inside and book us a room for a few hours.
We’re almost out of this shit state, and I’d like to be before the sun comes back up,” Sam stated as he opened the door and climbed out of what I now realized was the other pickup truck.
He said we were almost out of the state, which meant we’d been driving for at least five hours at this point. Rowan would definitely know something was up by now.
I swallowed stiffly and stared at the ceiling, unsure of what to do at the moment.
I wasn’t sure I could lift myself up and open the doors with my hands tied behind my back, and what if the doors were child-locked?
That was absolutely something this fucker would think to do.
Taking another deep breath, I decided to chance it.
Rocking myself a bit, I was able to slowly pull myself up to a seated position.
“Fuck,” I mumbled beneath my breath. I wasn’t sure, but I knew I hit more than my head when he hit Rowan’s truck, because my entire body ached. “What I wouldn’t give for a bubble bath right now.”
I scooted myself closer to the driver's side door, away from the office Sam went to, ignoring the overwhelming ache that was settling into my bones. All of this bullshit, and I could’ve been with Rowan right now instead of here dealing with my absolutely insane ex-boyfriend.
Leaning over, I tried to pull on the handle, but while it moved—the door didn’t budge.
“Fuckkk,” I grumbled for what felt like the hundredth time.
For some reason, the only thing that came to mind right now was what my beauty queen mother would say about all of this.
My cussing so much, running away from an abusive man, and moving in with a rugged cowboy who had an A+ in dirty talk and rope tying.
What would the classy woman think of her daughter right now?
I didn’t even know if she still was that person, but I felt like she was—in my head at least.
I leaned against the seat and stared at the truck ceiling, trying to come up with another plan, pushing thoughts of my mommy abandonment issues away.
I could try throwing myself over the console and into the front seat.
That wouldn’t have a child lock on it, but obviously it would take a lot more time…
I looked out the windshield just in time to see Sam walking back out, a key in hand.
The sight made my stomach turn. As he walked closer to the truck, I could see the frown forming on his face when he saw me sitting up in the back. Fabulous.
He pulled out a key and unlocked the driver's side door, climbing back inside the cab.
Leaning forward, he pulled something out of the back of his jeans and then held it up in the dim light of the cab.
I felt my eyes widen as I looked at the dull matte black handgun in his hand.
It looked large in his smaller hand, and I had to force my brain not to start comparing him to Rowan.
This was not the time for my brain to go diving into dirty thoughts about comparing my ex to the love of my life.
“I got us a room for the night. You’re going to listen, or I’ll shoot you and leave you to bleed to death in this dirty ass motel room, Aspen. I’m not playing your games anymore; you’re going to play mine. Got it?” he asked, a smile twisted on his face, the more he spoke.
I nodded my head slightly, trying to ignore the wave of dizziness that hit, unsure of what else to say at this point.
“Good. Maybe if you behave, I’ll let your play thing know you left him for better dick,” he smirked and stepped back out of the truck, putting the gun back in his waistband. I found myself unable to speak or even fully form thoughts on where to go from here.
In all the years Sam and I had spent together, all of the insanity he’d put me through.
The beatings, the bruises and busted lips, the lies, cheating…
the—I couldn’t even bear to put myself back in that time again.
He’d threatened to kill me before, and part of me was even convinced he’d tried that day on the stairs.
But he’d never done it with a weapon before.
Never even threatened me with a weapon that wasn’t his bare hands.
He opened the back door and gestured for me to get out.
I couldn’t help but stare at him, though—the only light illuminating the scene was a tall lamp post on the far side of the parking lot.
He’d truly picked the darkest and most sketchy location he could for this.
I swallowed roughly, my throat suddenly dry from nerves, and pushed myself toward the door.
But before I could turn my body to step down, Sam grabbed me by the bicep and yanked me from the truck.
I bit back a startled scream as I fell from the truck and landed on a knee atop the cement parking lot. He jerked me back up and pushed me toward the motel, shutting the truck door with his heel.
“That way,” he muttered. “Don’t cause a scene because what I said still applies.”
I nodded as I limped toward the door he was not so kindly steering me toward.
His hand was still tight around my arm. We stopped in front of a ground-floor room a few spots from where he parked the truck, and he reached around me to unlock the door.
Once it was open, he shoved me inside and shut the door behind himself, locking us in the room together.
“I have to use the bathroom, Sam,” I said quietly.
I hated how my voice sounded around this man, but it was as if my body was back in flight mode.
Subconsciously doing whatever I could to stay alive and unharmed.
Not that the unharmed part was happening—clearly if my limp and the sharp stabbing pain behind my eyes were any indication.
He flipped on a light and stared at me from across the dim space.
The room was nothing but a small TV on a dresser, a full-sized bed, and a small wooden desk.
The one light was next to him, and it was a simple floor lamp.
This was the first time I’d gotten a full look at him, even if it still wasn’t the best lighting, it was better than the dark parking lot or the side of the road in the rain.
He’d put on a bit of weight, but it looked more like muscle than fat.
He’d never been much of a gym goer when we’d been together, but it was clear he’d been doing something different.
Had he trained to kidnap me? His normally well-kept sandy brown hair was disheveled and dirty as if he hadn’t showered in a few days.
Where he’d normally kept himself clean-shaven, he was now a few days into a not-so-great-looking beard.
His eyes were what caught my attention the most in the end.
The normal brown eyes I’d looked into for years were bloodshot, dilated, and half-crazed.