Chapter 2 Two

I have no sense of time, but it feels like it has been at least a half hour of silence, the vehicle not stopping for more than 5 minutes for a light or maybe a stop sign. I huddle against the cold metal side and keep my head down and knees drawn in, afraid of any of them touching me again. I don't know where any of them are, and if there are only three of them. So far, no one else has spoken or moved around me. I only sense one person near me.

"Maybe we should take the bag off," the first man says. "We're out of the city, and there aren't any windows back here. What is she going to do?"

"Is she tied up?" The second man asks. There is silence. "Alright, you're going to pay for it if anything happens, anyway."

I wait anxiously, until I feel someone's fingers brush my collarbone, and lift the bag off my head. I blink from the harsh light that pours through the front of the van, trying to adjust to everything around me. I can see now that I am in a large, extended van, the back is entirely empty with no windows, not even in the back, except for the windshield and two windows on the driver and passenger doors.

There are only three men in the van, as I predicted. The man seated in front of me had a gentle face, with bright blonde hair and glistening green eyes. He is smiling kindly at me, but I'm falling for it. There are two other men seated up front, but I can't see the driver from where I am seated, and the man in the passenger seat is turned away from me, I can see he has dark chestnut brown hair, thick and wavy.

"What do you want from me?" I ask quietly.

"The famous question everyone asks," the blonde-haired man says, his smile never faltering. "You look like a smart girl; I think you can figure out the just of our motives on your own." The more he spoke, the more I recognized his accent. Irish. Where in the world have these guys come from? It doesn't seem like they are from around Los Angeles, the man in front of me is dressed in a crisp white dress shirt and black dress pants, looking very professional for a kidnapper. Most of them are wearing black clothing, like turtlenecks and black jeans, or a ski mask to cover their faces.

These guys look like they have just come from a banquet ball or fancy party, not out to kidnap someone off the street. What is their motive if they aren't your average kidnappers? Is it really only money they wanted?

"Got nothing to say now?" The man in the passenger seat asks harshly. "Maybe she isn't as smart as you thought." He still doesn't turn his head towards me, his tone clipped and emotionless. What a charmer.

"I'm Lucas, by the way," the blonde-haired man says, his smile widening. "I already know your name, of course."

"Why would you tell her that? You never give away personal information about yourself to a victim, let alone your goddamn name," the man driving growls at him. Lucas bites his lip and mutters something under his breath. He looks at me, his expression hard. Have these guys ever kidnapped anyone before? What are they playing at?

I remain quiet and try to get a look out one of the windows up front, to get a sense of where we are. Just as I try to lift myself up a little, the van comes to a halt, and nearly sends me flying into the front seat. Lucas jumps up and slides the side door open. I wait for him to reach back and grab me, instead, he just grabs a duffle bag. I yelp when the metal side gives out, and I'm flying backwards.

I land softly in someone's arms, but I need to blink a few times against the harsh light before I can make out their features. My heart stops for a second when I finally look up at them, and I am met with striking blue eyes. They are a kind of colour that would make even the clearest of oceans feel jealous, so intense they make you stop in your tracks. I recognize his hair as the brown-haired man from the front. He has high cheekbones, lightly tanned skin, and full, soft-looking lips.

"We're staying here for the night," he says quietly, with the same emotionless tone. I realize his eyes hold no emotion either like he is a robot. He places me down and immediately grabs hold of my arm. I look around us and start to panic when I see we are surrounded by nothing but a thick, endless forest.

"Where are we?" I ask.

"Don't worry about it," the man answers, continuing to drag me along a dirt path until a large wood cabin breaks through the trees. This is it. I am going to die in that cabin. They are going to lock me up and do God knows what to me. I try to wrestle against his grip, but it's no use, his hand is like iron.

"The less you struggle, the easier this will be," he mutters and harshly yanks me up the stairs. "Do you have everything for the night?" he asks and turns to Lucas. That only confirms my fears, as he holds up the heavy-looking duffle bag. I can only imagine the insane type of killing tools that they have brought with them.

I cursed myself for never listening to my father, and insisting I didn't need to be escorted by bodyguards everywhere I went. It was only going to draw unwanted attention to myself whenever I wanted to go out. But look at how much good that has done me. He was right all along. I wonder if he knew by now if I had been kidnapped if Sebastian had phoned the police as soon as we took off. Knowing him, he had called them as he raced to my parents.

The man continues to drag me down a narrow hallway and throws me into a room that is decorated like a bedroom, with very minimal furniture. There is nothing other than a plain wooden bed, with a white duvet and pillowcases, a matching dresser and bookcase, with no books. Before I can take in my surroundings entirely, the door slams and a heavy lock falls.

I am left alone, my hands still tied, sitting on the dust-covered floor. I struggle to lift myself up and rush to the window, only to be disappointed when I see it is barred with a thick, metal cage around the entire outside, and inside. It's like this place is made to be a murder/kidnap shack. It is in the perfect location, and is built for keeping someone in, it seemed. I spin around and sit on the bed, thinking over all my life choices, and deciding if I have lived a respectable and happy life before it ends. Just as the panic has completely settled in, the lock is removed and the door creeps open.

Lucas pops his head in, a small frown on his face. "The least he could have done was untie you," he mutters and walks towards me. I scramble off the bed and back against the wall, trying to get as far away from him as possible. His frown deepens as he puts his hands up.

"I'm not going to hurt you, I promise. In fact, we kind of need you alive, for this all to work. We kidnapped you for a ransom, can't get it if we deliver you back dead." He has a point, and here I am making sure my life is worth it before it ends. They need me alive to make the exchange for the ransom, what am I thinking?

He cautiously walks closer and motions to my hands. I hold them out and he swiftly cuts them loose with his pocket knife. Once the rope is removed, he takes several steps back, easing my angst.

"I'm just here to check on you, make sure you aren't dehydrated or starving. We aren't criminals, though we are committing a pretty hefty crime, we don't want to treat you like a dirt prisoner. There's a bathroom through the door there," he says, and motions to a closed door I hadn't noticed before on the far left of the room. "If you want to clean up, I'm sorry we don't have any clothes for you, but I brought clean towels and food and drinks for us tonight."

I watch as he walks over to the door and grabs the duffle bag from earlier. He rummages around in it until he pulls out neatly wrapped sandwiches, bottled water, and fluffy white towels. He hands them to me in an organized pile, the same kind of smile from before.

"Why are you being nice to me?" I ask.

"Like I said, we just want money from your family, and unfortunately you are the best way to get what we want. I can't reveal much, but all I can say is we're taking orders, and those orders are to not harm you in any way."

Following orders? What kind of kidnap mission is this? It seems much more planned and professional than what my father has told me. He warned me about being tortured, or possibly losing a body part. Not tasty sandwiches and fluffy towels.

"I'll let you relax, especially after the night we put you through. One of us will be back later to guard you for the night, or get you something if you need it," Lucas says. I feel he added the last part to be nice, but it doesn't work. I am going to have someone watching me while I sleep. Regardless of why, that is still creepy.

He backs out of the room, and my mood plummets again when the lock clicks shut. I frown down at the food in my hands and toss it on the bed. I wander into the bathroom, and I am amazed at how beautiful and cozy it is, given the situation I am in. The entire room is made of wood, like the rest of the place, but has tiled marble flooring, and a pristine white bathtub, that looks more like an inside hot tub than anything.

I allow a small part of me to get excited, but it is quickly extinguished with fear when I remember the men who occupy the house along with me, and how they have access to the room, but I don't have access to leave. Do I really want to get naked, and try and bath here? Despite the glorious tub in front of me, I have to be aware of my surroundings and keep on my toes. What Lucas said could have been all lies.

I need to find a way out, not soak myself in a jet tub. He is trying to distract me by lowering my guard. I toss the towel on the rack by the door and walk out. I look at the food on the bed once again, and as if on cue, my stomach growls from hunger. I hadn't had the chance to meet up with Sebastian and grab a bite to eat after classes. The sandwich is looking pretty good, even if they have somehow poisoned it.

I ignore my instincts and bite off a large piece of the sandwich, washing it down instantly with the water. The seal isn't broken, which means there is a possibility they haven't put anything in the water. After my first bite, I wait a few seconds to see if anything happens, before I take another one. After another few large bites, the sandwich is gone.

After a few minutes, nothing happens. No inner stomach pain or whatever happens when you poison someone. I felt perfectly fine, and the chicken sandwich was delicious. I take a few more sips of water, before I go into full genius mode, as much as my brain will allow me to. I try to take in every surrounding near me, to see if maybe I can figure a way out of here.

The lock lifts again, this time the door swinging open instantly. The blue-eyed man from before charges into the room, slamming the door shut on his way in, and stands menacingly in the middle. He glares down at me, saying nothing. I guess he is the one who is guarding me for the night. I gaze back at him, unable to think of something to say. I try not to look directly into his eyes, afraid I'm going to get hypnotized like before.

He has an air around him that makes him seem intimidating, without having to do anything. Though his face is still emotionless, I can see he is tired, either physically or mentally. He walks over to the window and grabs a wooden chair from the corner. He places it a few feet away from the bed and drops down onto it, never taking his eyes off me. I squirm under his gaze, wishing I had stayed in the bathroom.

"I hope the sandwich was enough," he mutters. All I could do was nod in response, unable to speak due to my closed throat. His presence is unnerving and makes me almost sick to my stomach with fear I have never experienced before. Being afraid that IT is going to jump out and snatch your feet up from the gutter is one thing: a fictional fear.

This is all too real, and all he asked about was a sandwich. Why bother being nice to me? If I get out of this alive, I am taking their asses straight to jail, and I will do it by any means necessary. My parents have high-end lawyers, who can get the best detective team on them to catch them for their crime. There is no point in trying to succeed at whatever they are playing at.

"I thought you were going to be a chatty one, I'm kind of glad you're not, but you can at least tell me if it was satisfying. Like Lucas probably gushed to you, we aren't here to hurt you, we actually have specific orders to do exactly that, and make sure you feel comfortable until we can deliver you to my employer."

Employer?

For some reason, that term sends a shiver down my spine. If he isn't the worst to come, who else am I going to face?

"Have you done this before?" I finally ask, lifting my gaze to meet his intense blue eyes. Like before, I am instantly sucked into them, lost in a sea of blue waters. He can kill someone with those eyes.

"Kidnapped a person?" he asks, and I nod. "No, this is my first time doing this job."

"What other jobs do you do?" What am I asking? I am going to spend however much time with these people, I might as well try and squeeze some information out of them, for when I put them behind bars. I need material to testify against them, and I am usually good at remembering specific details.

"Do you really think I'm going to fall for that?" he snorts, for once showing fleeting emotion on his face, though his eyes remain blank. His smile quickly disappears, as fast as it had appeared, and he narrows his cat-like eyes at me. He reminds me of a lion, ready to pounce.

Damn it. There's no pulling the wool over this guy's eyes.

"I'm stuck with you until you get what you want, I'm just trying to make conversation," I try to argue, but he doesn't budge and goes back to being silent and watching my every move. I look around until I find an old-school alarm clock sitting on the dresser. The red numbers flash that it is almost midnight. How long had we been driving? How far away from home are we?

I see no other option, than to try and sleep, despite the creep sitting in the room. I walk over to the door, his eyes trailing after me, to shut off the light. It left the only light in the room to be the glow of the moonlight from the barred window. It makes a caged shadow on the floor, right where I stop standing. My heart starts to pound, as the ironic shadows dance around me. My blood is rushing in my ears, the high-pitched ringing from before back, it blocks my hearing. My hands start to tremble, and my body suddenly feels weak.

What's happening?

I panic as I crumble to the floor, streams of tears flowing down my flaming-hot cheeks. I lay on the floor, unable to move, as the shadows from the window continued to mock me. I am trapped. There is no escaping this, and who knows if my parents are even going to give them the money. I know they are going to go straight to the police, but I have already concluded that these criminals aren't like the others; something very bad can happen in the next few days. What am I going to do?

I gasp when strong arms wrap around me and lift me off the ground. My face is buried into a good-smelling silk shirt, and I feel a hard, chiselled chest under my palm. My neck heats up when my brain registers that the man has picked me up. He places me carefully on the bed as if I am going to break if he is too aggressive.

He reaches for the covers and slowly pulls them over me, before I feel his lips at my ear, his soft breath warm against my cheek. I'm shocked when it starts to slowly soothe the ball of panic that has been building in my chest, enabling me to move.

"I'm sorry we're putting you through this, it will all be over soon," he whispers in my ear, before my eyes suddenly feel heavy with exhaustion, and force themselves to close. His presence right next to me still leaves me feeling sick, but the exhaustion is enough to take over my mind and allow it to completely shut down.