Page 52 of Darkened Truths
“What are you doing here?” I put the lamp on the floor but refuse to move away from the door.
He puts his hands in front of him, like he’s looking at a dangerous animal he doesn’t want to spook. “I’m here to tell you that you’re in danger. Those guys, the Kings, aren’t good for you.” He holds his splinted hand up as a reminder of what happened to him because I kissed him. “They’re ruthless, and are going to use a nice girl like you.”
A few weeks ago, I would have bought that, but now…I’m not so sure. Yes, Julien still wants to watch me fall, but not Wesley. And I don’t think Zander wants to either. My phone rings and I turn to look at it. It’s too far away to see who’s calling. Probably Zander, because I know now he watches those fucking cameras like a hawk and I’m sure he’s seen who came to visit.
“I have something I want to show you. It will prove to you they don’t care. Do you trust me?”
No, I sure as hell do not. Repulsion runs through me, making my skin crawl. The hairs on the back of my neck stand at attention as I look at his outstretched hand. My mind is screaming “get the hell out of dodge”. I start to bend to pick up the forgotten lamp, and he tuts at me as I freeze in place.
“Don’t even fucking think about it.” He switches an impressive sized knife blade open, the light glinting off of the shiny metal, and points it at me. The tip looks sharp enough to slice through flesh with little pressure. Derek’s willing to do a hell of a lot of damage by the looks of that thing. The only thing I brought to this knife fight is a lamp, and I can’t even grab it.
I slowly stand to my full height and do my damnedest not to shake in fear. A feat made nearly impossible because of the adrenaline coursing through my veins. The blood rushing between my ears deafens out any other sounds, and I feel likeI’m trapped in a small bubble. I know if I can keep him here and keep him talking, Zander will show up eventually. Or at least one of the guys. My phone goes off again, but this time I don’t look at it. I don’t need to make this easier for him.
“Why don’t we talk inside?” I take a step to the side to allow him room to pass, but he doesn’t take the bait. Instead, he grabs my wrist and pulls me close to him. A shrill scream leaves my lips until the tip of the blade presses against my racing pulse. I snap my mouth shut and shudder as my eyes fill with tears.
“Looks like you’re already dressed to go out. Move.”
“Please, Derek, don’t do this,” I plead, being careful not to move too much.
He shoves me forward, through the door, and down the hall, keeping the blade trained to my throat and his hand firmly around my arm.
“Derek, listen to me,” I try again, but he presses the knife closer to my skin. I can feel the cold metal and the bite as it nearly punctures my flesh. I pull my bottom lip between my teeth and bite hard, keeping my trembling chin under control. Tears run down my cheeks and it’s getting harder to breathe out of my nose.
“Shut up,” he demands.
As we make our way down the stairs and out of the building, a thought hits me. Why is there no one else around? The halls aren’t usually completely empty. He pushes me forward, and I put my hands up to open the door and he’s not alone. Not that I thought it would be, but I hoped he was. It was already going to be an unfair fight, but now it’s worse, much worse. There are three other masked men standing around, and their conversation stops as soon as they see us. I may have had a sliver of a chance if it was only one, but four? I’ll never be able to fight them off. Stopping short, I press my body back into Derek’s—the lesser of the evils right now. He bands his arm around my chesttighter and presses the knife a little until a sharp pain pricks through my senses.
My hand immediately flies to the wound as blood descends on my sweatshirt.Fucking bastard!It’s on the tip of my tongue to say something, but I wipe the wetness coating my finger on his shirt instead. Here’s hoping it’s enough to mark him if I don’t make it out of this alive.
“Get her outta here.”
He shoves me forward, and I stumble, not expecting the force, into the arms of the tall, broad man in front of me. I immediately try to dodge his grasp, but he holds me tight. So, I do the next best thing, and drop like dead weight and let out the loudest, high-pitched scream I can muster. Someone had to have heard it. I look at the windows that face the parking lot, but I can’t make out any faces. No one is watching. A hand clamps over my mouth and rough hands pull me upright and flush against his firm body.
“Shut the fuck up,” a deep voice echoes in my ear. His voice is unfamiliar, but harsh.
These are not the men to mess with. I can’t overpower them, and I know I can’t seduce them like in the movies. And if I give up and give in, I’ll die. My options aren’t looking so good and my panic attack is settling in. My breathing shortens to breathy pants. There isn’t enough oxygen in my lungs, and it burns trying to suck in a breath past his rough hand. My heart is pounding like I just finished a marathon and sweat coats my body.
I’m going to die.
I know it. There’s no way out of this.
I stare at Derek with wide, pleading eyes, and he won’t even look at me, his eyes trained on the ground.
“Look at me,” I shout from behind the man’s hand, but it’s too muffled to be understood. Tears fall with abandon downmy cheeks, and on to the ground below. “Please, Derek,” I say, pulling in a deep breath. What’s his angle in all this? And where the hell are they taking me? A strangled noise escapes me—half sob, half gasp, and I’m shaking so hard I feel like I might snap in half.
I fight. I kick and wrestle, trying with all my might to free myself. If I can just get out from under their grasp, I can run. Adrenaline is coursing through my veins so strongly that I can hardly feel anything. Physically and mentally, I am shutting down, and I can’t. I focus on only one thing.
Freedom.
I have to get away from them. In movies, when the subject gets moved to a secondary location, it never ends well. I’ve got to believe that’s true in real life kidnapping as well. Victims hardly ever get found, and when they do, it’s months, or even years later, if at all. And knowing the clientele that goes here, it wouldn’t surprise me if I was going to be sold off. Or used for blackmail against my dad. Wesley told me his dad trafficked people.
What if this is all a setup? What if the Kings were working with Derek all along and this was their plan? I know Julien hates me, but would he really have me kidnapped? Deep down, I don’t believe it, but my fear is overpowering any other rational thought. I hate them. I hate all three of them and my dad. If I had never met them, this wouldn’t be happening now.
One man grabs at my legs and I kick out with all my might, catching his knee and he buckles when he puts weight on it.
“You’ll pay for that, bitch,” he groans and rights himself again. He limps and I internally high-five myself. I tug and pull, trying with all my might to free myself from their grasp.
The cocking of a gun is the only thing that makes me pause. My heart barreling in my chest as the realization hits me like a freight train.
