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I should’ve screamed, but I hadn’t been thinking rationally.
I was one of those girls that, in a movie, you would be throwing popcorn at because of her stupidity. Why didn’t you scream, bitch? Did you want to be taken by the bad guy?
Well excuse me, assholes, but you try thinking clearly when you’re in the midst of getting kidnapped!
There was no flight or fight response just then. There had only been numbness and fear.
I yearned to touch my head - if only to see if the damage matched the pain - but the rope restricted such a movement. I growled in frustration.
Think Addie. Think.
I was in a room that may or may not have been in Elena’s house, though I was definitely leaning towards the not. The guys would never let me be tied up, even if they were into the kinky stuff.
Somebody had hit me. Had it been only one person? More than one?
Male or female?
I tried to recall the body type of my captor, but the bulging sweatshirt masked the gender. It could’ve been either, and I would be none the wiser.
Ryder was more than likely in a different room than me. I refused to believe that he had been killed or even seriously injured.
No, Ryder no doubt was nearby, attempting to heroically rescue me like a dashing prince. I would be willing, for him, to play the damsel in distress.
From behind the door, I became aware of footsteps pattering in the direction of my room. Though I longed for them to be Ryder’s, I was not naive enough to take that chance.
I immediately snapped my eyes closed and attempted to steady my breathing.
The door creaked open, unsurprising given how old and rusty it looked, and the footsteps stopped right near the head of the bed.
Despite my prevalent fear, I did not succumb to the panic. My breathing remained controlled even as the unknown figure leaned forward, rancid breath dusting against my neck.
I felt a hand touch my cheek. My hair. My nose.
I barely even stiffened when the hand trailed lower.
It didn’t lag behind on any particular body part, and I had the distinct feeling that the touch was not sexual. More...questioning, as if I was being examined by a doctor.
I heard what sounded like a disgruntled sigh, and then the person slapped me in the face. My head whipped to the side, hair covering the visible side of my face, and I allowed myself to open my eyes in shock.
What the hell?
My face stung from the damning slap, but my body remained unresponsive.
“You little bitch,” the voice hissed. It wasn’t anyone I recognized, but it was decidedly female.
I tried not to cower as something heavy hit my stomach. I groaned, an instinctive response, but kept my body still, lashes fluttering against my eyes despite the need I had to see the figure inflicting so much pain onto me. I hoped that she thought I was unconsciously making these sounds in my sleep.
Who was she?
Though I couldn’t see her face, I was almost certain I had never met her before in my life. I knew very few people, and only a handful of them were females. The unrestrained hostility she displayed towards me, a stranger, was startling. This felt almost personal.
I kept my eyes squeezed shut even as her footsteps retreated to the door. Even as the sound faded, indicating she had moved further away.
No, I didn’t dare open my eyes.
If I kept them closed, I could almost pretend that this wasn’t real. I sometimes hated reality.
* * *
