“Uh-,” I try to croak, but my mouth feels like it’s stuffed full of cotton.
The pulsing in my skull magnifies at my sudden attempt to speak.
I’m never trusting rich people alcohol again.
I move to lift my hand, and I’m met with resistance. I tug, and still nothing. The distinct feeling of metal rubs against my skin.
What the fuck?
“Oh, I wouldn’t do that if I were you. You wouldn’t want to hurt yourself. You’re strapped in pretty tight,” a voice singsongs.
My neck whips in the direction of the voice as I will my eyes open, but they remain unresponsive.
“Don’t worry, you’ll have bodily autonomy soon enough. Well, you’ll be able to open your eyes at least,” the fucking voice says.
I can’t determine who it is, but I think it’s a woman. The pitch of her voice is somewhere between alto and soprano and nasally.
Where the hell am I, and what the fuck happened? I work my memory, trying to figure out what’s going on. I remember being outside by the gazebo and then jackass Liam suggesting I tuck tail and run, but everything is blank after that. Every time I reach for what happened, I’m met with fog, and my brain beats against my head.
Fucking hell.
“Wh-,” I try to force the words out, but the burn to the back of my throat screams for water.
“Thirsty, are we? Well, that’s too bad for you, isn’t it?” I hear her say and then hear the distinct sound of liquid being poured and the sound of someone gulping said liquid. “Wouldn’t it be great if someone had something for you to drink? Help quench your parched mouth?”
Ugh. I don’t know who this fucker is, but I swear she’d get a cunt kick if I wasn’t in my current state.
“It’s too bad-.” Whatever she was about to say is cut off at the sound of a door opening.
“What are you doing in here? You’re not supposed to be here at all! What if she opens her eyes? Are you trying to fuck this up?” another voice says.
“I’m doing whatever the fuck I want, and the skank can’t see shit yet,” the tormenting bitch says.
“If I were you, I’d get out before they see you in here. You might have some power, but you’re not so important you can’t be replaced. Get the fuck out, or I’m making the call,” I hear the newcomer say.
“Fucking fine. The stupid bitch was boring me anyway. She can’t even talk yet.”
I hear feet stomp and then a loud bang. I’m assuming it was the door hitting the wall or slamming shut.
“You must be thirsty, Emma.”
I’m still not alone.
I hear the sound of shoes once again moving across the floor and something being poured before the feet move again. The sound is coming closer to me. My body tenses as I feel the person’s body heat against my exposed arm.
The feeling makes me check to see if I feel bare all over. I inwardly sigh with relief when I sense my dress against my skin.
At least these assholes haven’t stripped me.
“I’m going to pour a little water in your mouth at a time. I can’t untie you, so I need to give you a little at a time, or you’ll drown.”
Thankful for something to drink, I slowly nod.
A trickle of water falls against my chapped lips, and I whimper in relief at the feeling, my tongue gleeful at the first cold drop.
I’m basking in the taste when suddenly the trickle becomes a stream and then a flood, pouring all over my face making it hard to suck in air without choking.
I hear the hyena cackle before the person I thought was helping speaks while attempting to drown me. “You stupid bitch. You thought I was here to help. Welcome to Hell.”
Water continues to fall on my face, and I turn my face to the side, escaping the endless stream. Sputtering a cough, I clear my throat and suck in desperate air in time to realize the water has stopped.
“You’d be wise to do what you’re told, or your stay here won’t be a pleasant one.”
With that statement, the clicking of shoes moves away from me, and I hear a door open, close, and then a lock engage.
I need to remember what the hell happened and get the fuck out of here.
LIAM
When I saw Emma a couple of nights ago at the party, I meant she should get out while she could. I didn’t mean she should be taken.
“Go get help. Please, Liam. One of us has to get help.”
Karl’s last words from that day years ago play on repeat in my mind, refusing to let me focus.
“I’ll be back. I promise.”
But I wasn’t back in time. Karl was taken and abused. Different from the fun loving friend I remember. He never talks about his time in captivity. His scarred body and haunted eyes told more of the story than his lips ever could.
I can’t let that happen to Emma.
I’m a fucking asshole for what I said to her. August was right to choke the life out of me. I’d have done the same.
What if they’re torturing her or worse- raping her?
Shaking my head, I try to clear my thoughts. I can’t let ‘what-ifs’ distract me from finding her. My fingers fly across the keyboard as I watch the monitor to my left before shifting to the monitor to my right. Many programs run simultaneously- facial recognition to locate Ly- Madeline, software scripts to remotely override whatever is blocking the signal to her chip, and a search for the van. I need something to give to Thomas and his team.
New Book: Back Home to Marry Off Myself
Loredana’s father left the family for his mistress, leaving them to fend for themselves abroad. When life was at its toughest, her father showed up with “good news” after 8 years of absence: To marry off Loredana to a paralyzed son of the wealthy Mendelsohn family.