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But there are no voices, and more importantly, there are no hands lifting me from the ground and dragging me away.
This might be hell, but it could be worse. I could be under the control of the man who paid… I still have no idea how much for me. An eighteen-year-old virgin.
He might be wealthy. He probably lives in a mansion with staff and all those pretentious things. But nothing, nothing is worth losing your free will over.
Alex might have lied, but all he’s done is protect me, care for me… love me.
He knows I’m gone. He has to.
He should have returned from his exam hours ago.
He could be running through these woods right now searching for me, or he could be hunting down the men he thinks have me.
There might be a lot I don’t know about Alexander Deimos, but I know one thing.
He won’t rest until I’m safe.
He did all of this because he cares. It might be naïve or wishful thinking or whatever, but when he told me he loved me yesterday, I believed him.
He won’t give up on me. I know he won’t.
And nor will the others. They’ll all be out searching, doing whatever they can to find me, to bring me back to my family.
Thoughts of Blake and Zay make my sobs return full force.
Do they even know I’m missing?
Will Alex and the guys have kept the intel locked down so they don’t scare them? Are they hoping to return with me before Blake realises there’s an issue?
Fuck, I hope so.
With my energy depleted, I slump to the side, curling up in the foetal position as the rain continues to pour and my hope seeps out into the puddle around me.
As soon as the sun rises, you’ll find your way out of here…
As long as they don’t find you first…
* * *
Birds are the first thing I hear as the woods surrounding me begin to wake with the rising sun.
Opening my eyes hurts. It gives me very little optimism for what it’s going to be like to move the rest of my body.
Right now, I’m so cold I’m numb. And that’s probably a very good thing.
I scan my surroundings as the orange hue from the morning sun begins to flood everything around me with light.
The ground is wet and muddy from the storm the day before, but from what I can make out through the gaps in the leaves far above my head, the sky is clear.
At least something is working in my favour this morning.
Sucking in deep breaths, I try to take stock of my body. And after a few seconds, I press my palms into the ground and force myself up.
Something between a roar and a scream rips from my lips as I move. My muscles ache and the cuts and gashes littering my body pull and sting. Some immediately open up with the movement, oozing blood once more.
Checking myself over, I cringe at what I find staring back at me.
But I remind myself that I’m still here, that they never found me, that my life is still my own.
