Henry, the driver, and the other guard stops at the red light and glances into the rearview mirror. “You need to start taking this seriously.”
I shake my head because I know they’re being overprotective. Henry accelerates through the green light, and something smacks into the side of the SUV so hard that it makes my head whip to the side and smack the window. What was that? I can see Henry’s mouth moving, but my ears are ringing, and I can’t hear.
“…get down!!!” Garrett's yell finally cuts through, and that’s when I see four guys outside of our SUV with really big guns. They level them at the front, and the glass shatters when they pull the trigger. I bury my head in my arms, but I can still hear the sickening thud of the bullets hitting Henry and Garrett's bodies.
“Henry! Garrett!” I cry, but it’s useless.
Someone jerks open the driver’s side back door that wasn’t damaged, and I’m face to face with a guy with a mask on, his evil blue eyes glittering behind it. He reaches in, unsnaps my seatbelt, and then grabs me by the arm, dragging me across the seat. My dad’s lectures about fighting finally register, and I start screaming, kicking, and trying to pull away. He’s just too strong. He finally jerks me across the seat, clamping a hand over my mouth.
“Shut up, you stupid cunt,” he hisses in my ear, half-carrying me to a waiting SUV. He slings me in the back between two other guys before jumping into the driver’s seat.
“Daddy!” I yell, trying to fight, fight like Dad taught me.
The biggest one backhands me across the face. “Your daddy can’t save you now.”
They all laugh like he told the best joke, ripping their masks off. I clamp a hand to my face and let silent tears fall. Where are they taking me? Why did they take me?
The littlest one in the back rubs his hand up my naked thigh. I’m wearing my favorite pair of shorts, the ones Ryder picked out the last time we all went shopping. “I like when they fight.”
I’m not completely naïve, so I know what he means. I feel the acid burn in my throat and know I’m going to vomit. It comes out all over the back floorboard until all I can do is dry heave.
“Motherfucker!” the big one yells. “You’re going to pay for that, cunt.”
He grabs a handful of my hair and yanks my head back, making me cry out. I try to claw his hands away, but it’s like he doesn’t even feel it. “I think we should get started now,” the passenger says with a laugh.
“Bitch just puked in the fucking car, and you’re turned on right now?” the driver asks. “You sick fucker.”
“I like it nasty.” The passenger laughs again, and I can see the unhinged look in his green eyes.
The two in the back roughly start pawing at the buttons on my shorts,and my fight increases tenfold. The little one has his hand ready to clamp over my mouth; I grab it and bite down as hard as possible.
He groans. “God, yes.” He shoves his hand down the front of my unbuttoned shorts, and the big one tucks my legs between his, putting the weight of his elbow on my stomach so I can’t move.
“No. No. No,” I keep repeating, but they aren’t listening. Why aren’t they listening?!
“…Alessa!”
I frown because no one in this car calls me by my real name.
His hand starts moving in my underwear, and I can feel the acid bubble up again.
Hands tighten on my arms, and I know I need to fight. Fight them, Alessa!
“…. goddamnit,” one of them grunts, and I know I made contact. “Beautiful, you need to breathe.”
Don’t call me that!
“Alessa.” Those same hands shake my shoulders, “Breathe, Beautiful. You’re having a panic attack, and none of this is real.”
It is real! Why can’t I breathe?
“Open your eyes. This isn’t real.” I shake my head. “Yes. Please. Open those pretty blue eyes for me.”
“What the fuck?!” someone yells, and I shrink back. Why do they sound so mad? Are they mad at me?
“Back off,” the one holding my shoulders growls. “Breathe,” he says much gentler to me. I take a small breath, my lungs still not fully expanding. “That’s my girl. Now open your eyes.”
I pry my eyes open, but everything is blurry. A whimper escapes me. What is wrong with my eyes?
