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Panic engulfs my entire being, and as I attempt to open my eyes to make sense of my surroundings, I realize my eyesareopen.
So why is everything black?
I realize a scratchy blindfold covers my eyes, preventing me from seeing anything.
A sudden ache stabs me in the heart, and when I try to raise my arms to rub my chest, they don’t move an inch because my hands are bound with thick rope.
Taking a calming breath and counting to three, I attempt to kick my legs out, but sadly, they are also bound to the wooden chair I’m sitting on.
I don’t know how long I’ve been out or if I’m alone. All I know is that I need to get the knife in my boot, which will be impossible, but I have to try.I wiggle my fingers, but the rope is wrapped around my wrists so tightly that I’m surprised I haven’t lost feeling in my hands.
Now, I really start to panic.
My hearing and sense of smell are the only two things I have to work with, and I plan to exploit the hell out of both.
Inhaling, all I get is pine needles and fast food. But my sense of hearing is quite acute. I will my racing heart to calm the fuck down so I can get some idea of where I am.
There is little to no background noise. No horns blaring, no brakes squealing, no people yelling, no dogs barking, no nothing, which makes me think I’m someplace remote, someplace far, far away from anyone or anything.
My heavy breathing echoes loudly within my chest, and I’m about to hyperventilate because of the stupid gag. But again, I will my breathing to a steady rhythm and use my now semi-clear brain to try to piece together what to do next.
I’m gagged and bound, and miles from civilization. However, I know at least one other person is in the room with me. Looks like my sense of smell came in handy after all, as the smell of fresh fast food is a dead giveaway that I’m not alone. And the pine needles indicate I’m out in the woods.
I pointlessly curse around my gag, swaying the chair, hoping to tip it over so I can slither my way out of here. But I freeze when I hear a tongue clicking because I was right—I’m not alone.
I don’t bother to scream for help because I know this person is my captor.Instead, more profanities pass through my bound lips.My captor only laughs, and the tiny hairs on my arms prickle with recognition because I know that laughter.
“Justin?” I gasp around my gag.
The laughing ceases, and I know it’s him.
Time freezes, and as hard as I try to make sense of why the hell Justin would do this to me, I come up short. So in its place, I decide to ask the bastard himself.
“Why?” I muffle scream.
Why is he doing this?
“Why?” he angrily asks.
I nod because it’s all I’m capable of doing.
“Because you ruined my life, you little bitch,” he spits, and I can smell his perspiration, indicating his proximity.
I remain silent, not knowing what to say.
“Not such a smart-ass now, are you?”
His weighty footsteps pound onto the creaky floor, and unexpectedly, he rips my blindfold off my face, strands of hair yanked out from the force. My eyes feel heavy, and as I pry them open, my pupils slowly adjust to the dim light illuminating from the single light bulb hanging above my head.
My squinted eyes take in my bleak surroundings. It looks as if we are in some run-down cabin with nothing but a rusted sink with no taps, a wooden table and chair, a ratty mattress, and two windows covered with black sheets just to set the mood.
I’m guessing people come out here to get their dicks sucked. Or…to torture people.
Justin paces the room like a caged tiger before he pulls the Beretta handgun from the waistband of his jeans.
“Justin,” I say around my gag, my eyes dropping to the piece.
“Shut up! It’s my turn to talk.”
