a killer kidnapping
Fallon
Iheard groaning coming from the woods on the left side of me, but I couldn't see anything with how dark it was. I was shivering, wet, naked, and tied to a fucking tree—literally stuck. My nipples were so fucking hard they hurt, and not in the good way that eventually turned to pleasure.
Just as I had begun to calm down and catch my breath from the initial shock, a figure appeared in front of me, just about ten feet away. Their shadow shone in the Christmas lights, but the darkness hid their face well. As the wind began to blow, a familiar scent of leather, whiskey, and Cuban cigars hit me, going straight up my nose.
I began to shake. My heart started to race, feeling like a stampede was happening in my chest. I couldn't breathe; the scent was so fucking strong. But I'd recognized it, and there wasno mistake who it was that stood before me in silence, using the night to his advantage.
He stepped forward, directly in the path of the only light that lit back there. But his eyes weren't on me. They were focused on something or someone to the left of me—where the groaning was coming from. I held my breath and tried to be quiet, wondering what had happened and what was about to happen.
"You had one fucking job, War, and Ispecificallytold younotto get yourself involved. Didn't I?" Foley's voice cut like a knife through the silence, echoing in my ears like an annoying alarm clock.
"You bastard. You fuckingshotme!" War screamed, anger clearly evident in his tone.
"You're lucky I didn't fucking kill you a long time ago," Foley bit back, venom lacing each word, lingering like a threat.
He stepped even closer to me, his eyes finally piercing into mine, and as much as I wanted to look away, I couldn't break eye contact. I began to count the closer he got, panic squeezing the fuck out of my throat, and it was getting hard to breathe, but I managed to count to the number seven, and it calmed me down just a little bit.
Foley pulled out a gun and pushed the warm muzzle against my cold lips, and it fucking stung. I stifled a gag thinking about how War had been shot with the same gun, and his blood was probably being smeared into my skin. I stared into his cold, dead eyes, my jaw clenching as I tried to bite back my words.
"Thank you for finding her for me. You're dismissed," Foley snapped at War, signaling for him to get the fuck out of there.
When I saw he was actually getting dressed, blood soaking his shirt, I began to panic even more. I was about to be left alone with Evander Foley, the same man who trafficked, beat, and raped me. I was trapped with the devil, and I knew he wanted me dead. I couldn't just give up or give in. I had too much toprotect—too much to lose. So I knew I'd have to play along with whatever he wanted in order to ensure Brody and Julian's safety. I prayed for the mysterious boy who once used to help me; little did I know how close that boy was or who that boy was.
Once War stumbled away, leaving a trail of blood drops behind in the freshly fallen snow, Foley got even closer, and he ran the muzzle of his gun down the front of my body. His evil eyes pierced into mine, and he refused to look away.
"You've been a hard one to find,Fallon," he said, brushing his lips across my collarbone, his eyes still fixated on mine.
"I didn't want to be found," I fired back, wanting him to know I wasn't just going to take his shit.
I always fought back, and this was no different. His lips curled into a slow, menacing smile, giving off a darkness that seemed to swallow the light around him. And shit, I could've sworn even the temperature dropped around us, all because of how cold and ruthless Evander Foley really was.
"We all want things we can't have,little snowflake." He traced the outline of my jaw with the now cold barrel of the gun, sending a fresh wave of shivers down my spine, unrelated to the cold. "But you, my dear Fallon,are all mine, and you have something that fucking belongs to me."
I swallowed, the dryness in my mouth amplifying the fear clawing at my throat, scratching it raw. I couldn't let him see the terror, the desperation. I had to be strong for them.
"You can't just keep me in the middle of the woods," I managed, my voice a shaky whisper but filled with the defiance I desperately clung to.
He chuckled, a low, rumbling sound that sent goosebumps erupting across my skin. "Oh, but I can. I'm not—but I absolutely fucking can. You'll learn, sweetheart. You'll learn that resistance is futile." He stepped back, the gun now pointed at the ground, but his gaze never left mine. "We have a lot to catch up on."
His hand went to his back pocket, and my heart slammed against my ribs. I braced myself, expecting anything. Instead, he pulled out a small, silver knife. He approached me and slowly cut the lights around my wrists and then the ones around my ankles. It was a cruel show. A twisted game. He wanted me to believe that I had freedom, that I could escape.
But I couldn't. It wasn't that easy.
As I was free from my bindings, I attempted to rub the blood back into my raw, chafed skin. He was watching me intently, as if he was studying my every move. He didn’t say anything, but I knew what he wanted.He wanted to fucking break me.
"Get dressed," he said, his voice cold and devoid of any emotion.
But he already broke me. He just didn't know it.
He gestured towards a discarded pile of my clothing, scattered on the snow. To him, it was a sick joke. I looked at him, searching his expression for a clue, any sign of what was coming. I slowly began to reach for the clothes, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of seeing me cower or seeing me naked. The thought alone made me gag.
My shirt was torn, ripped at the seams, and smeared with dirt and what I hoped was not my own blood. I didn't have much of a choice. I picked it up, my fingers brushing against the cold, rough fabric. I could feel Foley's eyes on me, boring into my back, and the knowledge of his presence ignited a fresh wave of dread. I wrapped the torn fabric around me, trying to cover as much of myself as I could, but it was impossible.
"Hurry the fuck up, Fallon," he commanded, his voice a low growl that scraped against my nerves.
I took a deep breath, fighting the urge to tell him to go to hell. I was on my own, trapped and vulnerable, but that didn't mean I would surrender. I pulled the shirt over my head, grimacing as the rough fabric scraped against my bruised skin. The cold airhit me like a slap, making me shiver uncontrollably as I shakily stepped into my pants.
