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I shove against his chest in a feeble attempt to get away, but he just chuckles and throws me over his shoulder like I’m a sack of potatoes and carries me away. I know I shouldn’t fight, I know it will only make it worse, but I have to try to get away. I have to because it might not only be me I have to protect. If I am really pregnant, I owe it to that life growing inside of me to fight for us.
I bang my fists against his back and move my knees to free myself, but he only holds me tighter.
“Keep fighting, that gets my dick even harder.” He slaps my ass and laughs.
When we’re outside, I hear him opening a car. He throws me into a trunk. Literally throws me. My back landing harshly against the bottom of the trunk, knocking the wind out of me. Before I can regain my bearings, he shuts the trunk, trapping me inside and plunging me into darkness.
I bang, kick, and scream the entire drive, hoping that someone might hear me. I don’t know how long we’re driving, but it feels like an eternity. With every bump, my body is bouncing over the unforgiving trunk floor.
When the car finally comes to a stop, my throat is sore from screaming, and my hands hurt from beating against the metal.
Tucker opens the trunk, and I have to squeeze my eyes shut, the sudden light blinding me. I swing my fists blindly, kicking my legs out while yelling for help at the top of my lungs.
His fist comes out of nowhere, hitting me on the side of my face. My head snaps back, and my vision goes black for a moment.
“Shut up. You’re hurting my fucking ears,” Tucker growls.
He lifts me and throws me back over his shoulder. I lose consciousness for a moment, and when I come to again, we are inside. Disoriented, I look around. We’re in some kind of abandoned building, a storefront judging by the empty shelving on each wall.
We walk into some kind of backroom, where tucker puts me down on a mattress. As soon as he has me on my back, he puts his knee on my chest, digging it into my diaphragm.
“Don’t move.” He grabs something from beside us, which I quickly realize are cable ties. “Give me your hands,” he orders. I do it because I’m already gasping for air. If he puts any more weight on my chest, I won’t be able to breathe at all.
He ties my hands together first, then my ankles, leaving me completely at his mercy. That fact becomes more apparent when he pulls a knife from his boot.
“We’re going to have so much fun.” He smiles maliciously. His eyes are dark, his pupils so dilated they drown out the surrounding green. The hateful look on his face has only one word coming to mind.
Evil.
