Delicate

3. Olivia

My throat's hoarse from screaming through the gag, and I'm getting tired. I'm starting to really feel the exhaustion weighing down on me, but fear is keeping me wide awake.

I've tried to kick the trunk open to no avail. I've been kicking this entire time, hoping that maybe someone would see the thumping. It's not really kicking though since my ankles are bound. So I'm pushing all my weight to my chest and thrusting my legs upward. It hurts. The zip ties rip into my skin with each blow. But I have to try.

It's been a long time since he put me in here. I don't know exactly how long, but I'd guess hours. The first time he slowed to a stop, I thought he would get out and try to stop me and shut me up. But he didn't.

He either doesn't care, or he's confident that my struggling and muffled screams are useless. The soft sounds of the car rumbling and moving effortlessly against the smooth asphalt make my eyes shut. My fate's no longer mine, but I still have fight in me. I can't give up hope. I heard my phone go off in the front of the car a while ago. It rang a few times, but there's been nothing since.

I don't know who it was, or if anyone else has called wondering where I am. Maybe he's just shut it off. For all I know, he threw it out the window.

My eyes feel puffy and swollen with tears. I hate this. I hate how helpless I am. I'm bounced around painfully as the car passes over an uneven patch of gravel and then slows. My heart hammers against my chest, and the heavy weight of sleep vanishes, replaced with intense anxiety. We've stopped.

I keep perfectly still as he opens and closes his door. I wait to hear where he's going. Part of me hopes he'll forget I'm back here, like that's even a possibility. Still, if that were the case, I could try to get the fuck out of here.

That stupid dream crumbles into dust as he opens the trunk. I bite down on the gag in my mouth and shake my head, trying to move away from him.

He looks at me with an intense stare that makes me want to cave to him. Something in his look sparks an electric current between us, but in a flash it's gone.

I don't fear him, not like the others. Some part of me feels safe with him. It's a false sense of security, but it's there, keeping me somewhat calm although anger is coursing through me.

He grabs my waist, hoisting me over his shoulder. I try to struggle, but his large hand smacks hard against my ass. Slap! His hand meets my bare skin underneath my skirt, and the shocking pain shoots through my body. My back bows, and a scream rips through my throat, muffled by the gag.

"Stop it." His harsh admonishment makes my body go limp. I struggle to take a breath as I look around. There's nothing but woods. I can't see anything but woods.

He's going to kill me. My heart hammers frantically and I nearly vomit, but then I see pavers.

Gorgeous stained concrete pavers make a perfect path surrounding a garden of lavender and rose bushes. Lush green grass trimmed to the perfect height separates the tiles. As we walk up some steps, I see columns with ivy growing up the side and over the roof of a pavilion.

I don't have a chance to see anything else, but we're at a house at least. I know that much. A home with a perfectly manicured, and well taken care of lawn. Which means other people will be here. Hope ignites within me.

I may be in the middle of the woods. But if someone comes, I can yell for help. If I find a way out, I can hide in the trees. The fight in me strengthens as he carries me through the doorway and shuts it behind us with a loud bang.