3

I clutch the tire iron in my hand with white-knuckle force as I try to stop myself from flying around. Whoever opens the trunk is getting knocked out with this fucker. My thoughts cross to Oprah and her sound advice to never go to the second location. I don’t remember much from Oprah, but I do know that she said never go to the second location if being kidnapped—fight like hell to escape because they are going to kill you as soon as you get there.

Oh God, this is great.

I’m already in the fucking car on the way to the second location. I begin to get mad, like, furious mad. How dare they? I’ve had a really fucking bad night and I’m not in the mood for this shit. After about twenty minutes and sixty attack plans, the car slows down and goes over speed bumps.

Where are we?

Adrenaline starts to pump through my blood.

Speed bumps are in parking lots… So that must mean we are in a deserted parking lot.

The car stops and the men go silent. I close my eyes, knowing this is it.

Holy shit.

My heart is hammering and I grip the tire iron in one hand and the car jack in the other. If I’m going to die tonight, someone is coming with me. I wriggle around so my feet are facing the opening, and I pull them back towards my chest. I can hardly breathe, I’m so scared. I hold my weapons in my hand and wait. The car doors open and the whole car lifts as the men get out.

Where are we?

I hear them begin to talk as if I have been totally forgotten about and another sickening thought crosses my mind. What if they just leave me in here?

What if I just die a slow death in the car from no water or food? Oh my God.

What do I do? What do I do?

I stay quiet for five minutes as I try to think until I can’t stand it any longer.

Screw this. I am not dying alone in the trunk of a car in a deserted parking lot. I put my tire iron down next to me on the floor and I bang on the trunk lid. “Help me. Let me out,” I call.

The men go silent.

“Just get her out and let her go,” someone says.

“I will be having some fun first,” another answers.

I can’t understand what is said next but they all laugh out loud and I grip the tire iron in my hand.

Assholes.

I pull my legs back, and as the trunk is opened I kick out with all my might and connect my feet with a man’s face, knocking him to the ground. I jump out of the trunk and one man comes at me. I swing the tire iron as violently as I can and hit him hard in the head, watching as he falls away. The other men all laugh at their two friends on the ground. Another man comes at me and I swing the car jack as hard as I can and cut his face open.

Then I run.

As fast as I can, I run across the cement. It’s dark and we are in a parking lot that seems to be near the ocean. I can smell the sea and hear the seagulls. I run with two men chasing after me. I have no defense in these damn high-heeled shoes. They catch up with me easily and tackle me to the ground.

“Get off me,” I scream as I fight and kick. One man hits me across the face and they struggle to contain me as I wrestle to get out of their grip. They are too strong.

They drag me up from the ground, one on each arm, as I kick my legs out and wrestle to try and get away. They fight with me through the darkness, guiding me back to the car.

One man has his t-shirt off and is holding it up against his face to try and stop the bleeding from my car jack attack and the other two men watch.

One man is leaning on the car watching me intently.

I glare at him and he smirks back.

“Let me go!” I yell as I try to break the gorilla grip the two men have on me. I bend down and they struggle. I kick out again and connect with the man on my left, hitting his balls and he cries out and doubles over. The distraction lets me rip from the other man’s grip and I punch him hard in the face. The man who I hit with the tire jack comes to their aid and helps them hold me down.

“You’re coming with us, bitch.”

“She’s going to be fun to break in.” The man on my left laughs.

“Fuck you!” I scream as I kick him in the balls again.

He doubles over in pain and the man leaning against the car laughs out loud.

My eyes glance over to him. He’s tall, scary looking, and the other men all seem to be looking to him for guidance. He’s calm and controlled, not like them. He’s clearly the alpha of the group.

Their leader.

He smirks as he watches me and lights a cigarette as if thinking and shakes his head.

“I don’t have time for this shit.” He sighs.

I kick out and connect with the other man’s shin, he cries out. “I’m going to fucking bash you in a minute, bitch.” He growls. “What are we fucking doing with her?” he yells at the man leaning on the car. “She’s out of fucking control.”

The tall man takes a drag of his cigarette, his eyes dropping to my feet before rising back up. He smirks darkly. “Bring her.”

I shake my head and start to fight. “Like fuck you will,” I scream as I kick out.

His eyes hold mine, and he smiles darkly and takes another drag of his cigarette. He licks his lips as his eyes drop to my breasts.

Fear runs through me. I start to go animalistic and fight like hell.

“Get the cloth,” he says to the two the other man standing next to him. The guy disappears to the car and shuffles around as I fight and kick the two men on either side of me. He reappears with a black cloth and holds it over my face as I struggle with the two men who are holding me down.

“No.” I scream as I try to move my head out of their reach. I can’t get away from the black cloth that smells like chemicals.

I struggle.

I fight.

I feel faint.

I lose consciousness.

I wake as a wave of nausea rolls through my stomach and I go to wipe the perspiration from my forehead.