Page 13 of Keeping My Captive

The car door opens, and my breathing picks up. I listen as the man steps out, and then I feel his large hand on my arm, gripping tightly and pulling me out.

“Be good,” he warns before leading me away from the car.

Listening intently, I hear what sounds like multiple plane engines. My heels suddenly dig into the ground. If I get on a plane, this man could take me anywhere in the world.

“No, no, no,” I chant, shaking my head in protest.

I can almost feel the anger coming off of him in waves as he grips my arm tighter. “Don’t make a scene,” he hisses.

He wanted me to be good. But I can’t let him take me anywhere he pleases. I need to give my family a chance to find this place first. To rescue me. Maybe they’re here already. Panic overtakes me, and I begin to hyperventilate inside the hood. “P-please,” I beg.

The man doesn’t sound amused before he simply lifts me up and puts me in a fireman’s hold over his shoulder. I kick and scream, my fists beating on his back as he continues to carry me up a flight of steps, not even grunting from the exertion, as if he does this type of thing all day long.

Maybe he does.

Maybe buying and kidnapping helpless women is histhing. His hobby.

My world turns upside down as he pulls me off his shoulder and throws me into a seat. Not being able to take another damn minute under that hood, I rip it off my face. The man is crouched before me, and he frowns as he stares at me while I struggle to get enough air into my lungs. I push the hair from my eyes and glare at him, daring him to ask me to put it on again. But instead, he simply shakes his head, smirks and goes to the seat across the aisle from me to sit down.

We sit in uncomfortable silence as the pilot does several engine checks over the radio. When the older man in uniform emerges from the cockpit, he tells my captor, “We’ll be departing in a few minutes, sir.”

The man across from me gives the pilot a nod before standing. He towers over me as I stare up at him. And when he reaches for me, I flinch, almost jumping out of my seat. “I’m just going to buckle you in,” he explains calmly, making a show of his hands with the belt, exaggerating his movements, so that I know exactly what he’s doing and where his hands are at all times.

Confused, I stare at him and watch him closely as he buckles me in, his fingertips briefly grazing against my bare thigh. A shudder runs through me from his touch. He pauses, his face merely inches from mine as I take in every detail — his strong features, the stubble lining his perfect jaw, his dark eyes that look like molten chocolate below his thick, dark brows. In any other circumstance or universe, I would be attracted to him. But not now. Not like this. He’s clearly a monster in disguise, hiding under a painstakingly crafted and handsome façade.

Turning my head, I dismiss his intense gaze. After a beat, he clears his throat before returning to his seat directly across from me and buckling himself in.

I stare out one of the small oval windows. The runway is lit up with hundreds of lights, but I can’t see much beyond it. Several planes are boarding and taking off, and I think about those poor women who were auctioned off alongside me and where they might end up. I wonder how many will survive the night and how many will be dead by morning. Tears fill my eyes, but I refuse to let them fall. I can’t allow myself to appear weak to this man. I need him to know that whatever he wants from me, he’s not getting it without a fight.

Several minutes later, another man boards the plane. He’s short and overweight, his large gut peeking out from under his button-up shirt. His eyes lock onto mine and never waver as his gross tongue darts out of his mouth to lick his thin lips. He stares at me like I’m a juicy steak and he hasn’t eaten in more than a year. My breath hitches in my throat, but I put on a brave face and glare at him. I swear if he tries to touch me, I will bite his finger off.

He tells my captor something in Spanish and then laughs. My eyes shift to the tattooed man, but he doesn’t seem amused by his friend’s choice of words. His eyes darken as he watches the other man approach me.

“Hello, my name is Thiago,” the short man says to me in introduction. He reaches out towards me, and I lean forward, my teeth snapping just an inch from his finger. “Oh, shit, she’s so feisty!” he throws over his shoulder to my captor. And then his hooded eyes focus on me once again. “Las cosas que te haria,” he mutters before his hand suddenly wraps around my neck. I struggle to breathe as his hand roughly grabs my breasts through my dress. “The two of us could have a lot of fun with you on the way back to Mexico.”

I open my mouth to scream, to yell, or do anything, but nothing comes out. I struggle to try to unbuckle myself, but my fingers can’t find the release button. I’m at his mercy, strapped to this seat. Maybe that was my captor’s plan all along. Maybe he wanted his friend to have fun with me first while I was helpless.

Black dots swirl into my vision as the man cuts off my oxygen, and my mouth slowly opens and closes like I’m a fish out of water.

I’m on the verge of passing out when suddenly the vice grip on my neck is gone, and I can breathe freely again. I gasp and cough violently, sucking in lungfuls of precious oxygen, as I watch the man who bought me grab Thiago and haul him off of me. In a split second, my captor reaches into his jacket and pulls out a Glock, pointing it at my attacker’s head. It’s a gun I’m familiar with since I’ve seen my father and brother carry theirs around a lot over the years.

My captor yells something in Spanish, and the man, who was literally trying to strangle me to death moments before, puts his hands up in defeat, apologizing profusely.

“Por favor, Mateo,” he snivels like the little worm that he is.

Mateo. His name is Mateo.

“I overstepped, my friend. Won’t happen again,” Thiago says before straightening his suit and slowly walking back a few rows to sit behind us.

My captor stares at me, his strong jaw clenching and unclenching before he puts his gun away and calmly returns to his seat as if nothing just happened.

My breathing is shallow, panicked. And when I swallow, my neck throbs in pain. Mateo stares at me, silently assessing me, but doesn’t ask if I’m okay. I close my eyes, effectively blocking him and everything around me out. And I don’t open them again until the plane is taking off. I gaze out the window as I watch the world go by as we fly to…God only knows where.

CHAPTER7

Aria

IWAKE UP as the plane touches down on the runway. Startled, I inhale a sharp gasp as I look out the small window. It’s early morning, and everything outside looks bright and sunny.At least my prison will have nice weather,I think sarcastically to myself.

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