AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Yeah, not the time to laugh at jokes, but I chuckle a bit. “How long have you been in the States, bro?” When he doesn’t answer, I say, “Look, I’m not sure what you want, but I don’t have money. I don’t have anything. Can you just let me go?”
“You have something. You have … information.” I give him a weird look, and he asks a question that makes my blood run cold. “Where is Savage?”
I’m not sure if I succeed, but I try to hide my shock and fear and adopt a puzzled expression. “Who?”
He chuckles and walks behind me, probably heading to the door. “You will tell me what I want to know, little man.” Ugh, can’t even get away from being called little when I’m kidnapped.
But that aside, I won’t tell him shit. He won’t ever find out where Savage is because of me. Hopefully, he left for the penthouse right after I left to get to Cris. I close my eyes in pain. Fuck, Cris. He still has people after him and I wasn’t able to get his go bag for him. I wonder if he’ll be able to get it himself when he gets released from the hospital. I hope so. I can’t bear the thought of him being hunted down because of my involvement with Savage.
Well, that’s kinda his fault. Had he not tried to steal from him, I never would have met Savage. And these weirdos wouldn’t have kidnapped me.
How did they even know I was with Savage? Was it from my graduation? That was weeks ago. The only other time we were out in public was an hour and a half outside the city where no one knows who Savage is. And Quin is very careful, so I know we weren’t followed from that restaurant. So how do they know I’m with Savage?
I don’t get long to wonder. The door behind me opens again, and another man walks in. I don’t have time to take in his face before I feel pain in my jaw from where his fist connected. Holy fuck! That fucking hurt! Jesus!
It takes everything I have not to cry out, but it’s a near thing. “Where’s Savage?” The new guy asks, his voice as heavily accented as the man in the sharp suit. I look up and see, while the other guy was really handsome with strong features, this one is not. He’s a not like the other guy who looked to be in good shape. He’s rounder with a doughy-looking neck, a pockmarked face and jowls that sag. Same cold eyes, though.
With a puzzled tone, I answer with a question of my own. “Who’s Savage?”
Another fist flies to my face and I feel my nose shatter. I cry out then, unable to keep the noise in while blood runs down my face. In all my years, I’ve never been hit before. Even when Cris threatened it, he never laid a hand on me. I’ve never felt this kind of pain, and it’s fucking terrible. I bite into my bottom lip to keep quiet and pull against the ropes to loosen them. They don’t give.
“Where’s Savage?”
Afraid of being hit again, but more afraid of giving up the love of my life, I shrug. This hit is to my stomach, knocking the wind out of me. I double over as much as I can, trying to breathe, willing my lungs to inflate. They spasm a bit, then get with the program and I inhale and cough. The coughing fit lasts a few seconds, hurting almost as much as the hit to my gut.
“Where is Savage?” His tone has changed. He sounds like he’s having fun, like he’s enjoying this. It’s going to be a long fucking day.
The Torturer beats me for at least an hour. Longer than I thought I could tolerate, but no secrets make their way past my lips. Eventually, he leaves and I use that time to break down a little. I hurt all over and I know I look a mess. Torturer didn’t hit me in the same places. He spread that shit out, making sure I felt pain whenever I move no matter which way I move. Breathing hurts. I think I might have a broken rib or two, making inhaling and exhaling hurt equally. My nose is fucked. My everything is in pain.
No time to rest to prepare for the next round because Torturer comes back after a few minutes. I’m a bit upset he sees the tears on my face, but whatever. Nothing to be done about that now. And the cycle starts all over again. Except this time, he’s brought toys.
Fun. I mentally hunker down to prepare for the next round of ass whooping coming to me.
He’s been at it for hours, it seems. I can’t count how many times I’ve been hit, tazed, kicked and punched. I take it, though. I feel a sharp crack of knuckles across my cheek and at this point, I have no strength to cry out. My head snaps to the side and I let it loll, too tired and weak to turn back to him on my own. “Where’s Savage?”
I bite back a sob and my lips stay sealed to his question. The same question he’s been asking. Again, the crack across my face stuns me. My vision flickers, but I shake it off. I will not pass out. Fuck him. He won’t get that from me.
“Where is he?” Oh shit, he switched it up this time. I try to smirk, but my lips are so swollen, I’m not sure they move at all. My shoulders hurt from being tied to this chair for this long, but I shrug as best I can. He hits me so hard this time that the chair I’m tied to topples over and I land heavily on my back, something cracking in my wrist. The immense pain that travels up my arm hurts and I curse and let out a quick sob. I hear laughing over me and I curse myself for showing that bit of weakness.
The only good thing is me landing the way I did kept my head from knocking on the ground. Small favors, I guess. Instead of picking me up, Torturer stands over me and says, “We have searched his home. We know he is not there. We also know that you know where he is. Tell me where he is and I will not hurt you anymore.”
I’m tired. I hurt. This needs to stop. “Okay,” I rasp, mouth hurting when I talk. Luckily, my teeth don’t feel loose, so that’s something good too. “Let me up. I’ll tell you where he is.” I really hope Savage forgives me for this. But I need him to stop beating me. I want the pain to stop.
He picks my chair up and sets it upright. I spit on the floor—not very sanitary, but the blood from the last hit is filling my mouth, and it’s gross. I take a deep breath and look at my abuser as much as I can through my swollen eyes. Swallowing thickly, I steel myself, knowing this may get me killed. “He went …” I say through swollen lips. “To your house … to fuck your mom.” So childish but so effective. Hopefully, Savage forgives me for getting myself killed to keep him safe. He’ll have to. Hehas to.
While they’re beating me, they won’t have the chance to find Savage at the penthouse. And he must be there because they know where he lives. They wouldn’t ask where he is if they knew. Other than me, only Michael, Quin, and Pogo know about the penthouse. Onecan’ttalk and twowon’t. So, I know he’s safe because I won’t talk either.
They can take my life. Because Savageismy life. If they find him, they may as well kill me, anyway. But if I die, they’ll never get their hands on him. And Savage will kill them all. Fuck it. I have nothing to lose. My life would be over without him, so this is easy. Giving myself up for Savage is probably the easiest thing I’ve ever done. They will not get my man. Not with my help.
The kick to my chest comes so fast I don’t have time to tense. The chair falls back again and I land heavily on the wrist I know is broken. I can’t cry out because I can’t get air in. A wheeze escapes my throat, but nothing else. No sound, no air. Nothing. No matter how hard I try to pull air in, nothing happens. My vision goes fuzzy around the edges and my eyes bulge as much as the swelling lets them for the need to draw in breath. I try to inhale again. Nothing. Happens. Slowly, my vision starts to dim and go black. Thank God. Finally, death will stop the pain. I have to be dying, right?
Even though I can’t breathe and my heart rates speeds up with fear, a smile graces my lips. I didn’t give Savage up. I kept my fucking mouth shut and now he’s safe. I did right by him.
As I sink into the darkness, I send my last thought out to the universe.I love you so much, Sav.
It would be too much like right for me to fucking die, huh? I come awake in so much pain that my body feels like one big bruise. I’m no longer tied to the chair, but that’s the only comfort I have. I feel like everything is broken and I’ll never survive what they did to me. Oh well, it’ll only be a matter of time before I’m dead so I don’t make an effort to move from my spot.
Not until I hear my name being called. I drag my eyes open and see Cris through the slits. He’s kneeling in front of me, looking … totally fine. Whole. Unhurt. “Cris?” I squeak out, trying to drag myself into a sitting position. “Cris! Are you okay?” I move too fast and it hurts to speak. I deflate some, breathing shallowly to ease the pain. While I’m happy to see him, I’m confused as to why he looks okay when Sean said he was hurt.
