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"Shut up."
"Fuck you," I grit out through my clenched jaw. Insecurity and anger rage in my veins. A vicious combo if he wants to fucking push my buttons.
The road continues to get worse from here, and I'm honestly shocked at how his car is lasting through this. Deep potholes, shattered bark, thick masses of dead trees, random bushes in the center...are we even on a road, or is this some form of a four-wheeler trail?
Just as the thought tumbles through my brain, the awful sound of a tire popping rings through the car.
It's a sound that used to terrify me as a young driver before Kyle happened. Now though? My chest feels like it's bubbling, and my lips begin to stretch into a slightly deranged smile.
I laugh. And I continue to laugh. I mean, what the actual hell? Everything is so messed up. The hysterical wheeze has my boney sides aching while Kyle's slew of profanities adds to my delirious frenzy.
My kidnapper looks almost as bad as me. His eyes are a bit sunken into his sickly pale face. Every glance I've stolen at him showed that he looked about ready to pass out on the steering wheel.
There is zero food or water in the car right now. I don't know what the hell he was thinking when he took this road because I've also been watching the gas gauge. If our tire hadn't popped, then we would have run out of gas soon.
I don't even think we are on an actual road at this point. I just...what the fuck?
Now we are stranded in some gnarly looking woods, probably in New Mexico somewhere.
Between my fits of giggles, I say, "Super unfortunate, considering there is no spare tire in the trunk." More peels of giggles spew before I catch my breath. "You know, because I was stashed back there for the better part of a day. There is a big hole where it and the cover should be, though."
He roars, shoving his car door open, then slams it closed behind him. The rattle and thumping of him moving around in the trunk have me huffing out a few more fits of laughter.
In the side mirror, I watch as he walks around my side of the car. Scatters of anxiety ripple through my bound limbs when he roughly opens my door.
"Told ya!" I give him a wide grin, sass attempting to conceal my fear.
My alarm bells were right to activate at that moment. I yelp when searing pain explodes across my scalp.
"Stop!" I plead only for my cries to fall on deaf ears.
My knees slam to the ground, finally tugging me all the way out of the car by my hair. He doesn't stop there. He continues to drag me across the rocky terrain, ignoring me and probably turned on by the tears streaming down my face while I cry out in pain.
"Please, stop, Kyle!"
Another raspy screech of pain flies out of my mouth when my Achilles tendons flare with pain as well. My tied wrists claw at his hand, a feeble attempt to get him to let go of me. And yet, he just yanks harder even though my legs are caught on a root.
"I-I'm stuck!" Creating a coherent sentence is harder than I thought it would be.
My neck, which was already sore and stiff, is now tweaked from being forcefully yanked around. Welts and bleeding cuts mar my bare legs. A familiar feeling, my blood trickling out of wounds.
Looking up at him, bile rushes up my throat at the same time, saliva pools in my jaw. The forest we are in is fairly shaded, leaving Kyle's face to be masked in the late afternoon shadows of the trees.
Pure malice and hatred darken his eyes. They flash with upcoming horrors right before he drops my weeping body onto the hard ground.
"Ah!" My elbows now match the rest of my bleeding, bruised body. Breaking my fall, they keep my abused head from receiving any more damage on the unforgiving ground.
A sudden rush of air flies from my lungs a second before the pain in my stomach invades all recesses of my nerves.
Drawing his pointed dress shoe back from me, he spits on the sand next to me. "Stay, bitch." With those parting words, he walks back to the car a few yards away.
A whimper slips free while a line of saliva drips from my parted lips. Everything hurts—the muscles in my abdomen contract and cramp where he kicked me. The hit was so hard; I'm sure he would have cracked a rib if he aimed higher.
Shifting after a few minutes of trying to control the horrendous pain rippling through my stomach, I notice a difference in my attire.
I peed myself.
The bump of the rocks barely registers as I tip my head to look up at the canopy of trees above me. I used to dream of the sky. Then I got the chance to see the sun and the stars again. Now all I want is a goddamn blanket. I just want to curl up in a ball and hide away from the world.
