The Daughter Of

Chapter 3, Adrenaline.

After my outburst, everyone's hands are tied up. Except for Gabe, Lucy, and some younger kids, they all sit near the back, too afraid to move. Aundray has his hands and feet tied, he is confident in trying to get loose. And all strangers on the bus sit still, careful not to say anything, or to even breathe too loudly.

Drake sighs, stands up and grabs my arm, he brings me to the front of the bus with him.

My hands and feet are also restrained, but unlike the others on the bus I have a bandana around my mouth to keep it from opening and I know it is because they simply understand I'm trouble.

With my feet tied, I hop behind Drake, carefully trying not to stumble. Some of the guys under Drakes comand laugh at me trying to keep my balance, I roll my eyes, and keep going.

A tingling in my arm makes me realize just how tight Drakes hold is, and it hurts, but it isn't anything I can't handle.

As we reach the front of the bus he throws me in the first row of seats, and speaks to everyone on the bus.

I sigh into my bandana, leaning against the seats.

"Alright, we can do this the easy way, or the hard way."

I roll my eyes, such a boring and cliché line, it's used way to often.

"As you can tell, we're not your ordinary group of guys. My crew and I aren't here to mess around, you're all coming back with us to our compound." Drake scans the crowd of us, daring someone to object.

He then continues when everyone stays silent, except for a few muffled cries. "And if you say a single fucking word, hell, a sound effect I don't like I will beat the shit out of you. Or, I'll get someone to do it for me. This is going to be a long drive, so I suggest you all cooperate and no one will get hurt."

Another muffled cry escapes the crowd, and I look around to find the one guilty of making the noise.

Drake notices it too, and finds the culprit.

A girl in my grade, in fact, another popular person, gross. She's probably in the cheerleading squad or something, I should know but I barley pay attention to everyone's social lives and status. Because honestly when it comes down to it, who gives a damn?

I watch as Drake makes his way to her, and sits in the seat next to her.

She shakes, and backs herself as close as she can against the window. There's no way out for her, she's trapped.

Again, a cry escapes her lips as she quietly stutters. "Ple-please, don't hur-hurt me."

Tears stream down her flawless face, and in a way I feel bad for her. Maybe the jock that died was her boyfriend or something.

Drake wipes away her tears with one of his thumbs, and gently wraps it around the back of her neck.

If this was any other situation, and he wasn't the sick person he is, the act would look like a sweet form of affection.

"Awh sweat heart, stop crying." He soothes, but as he says it her breath hitches.

"Don-don't touch me." She warns, her voice sounding more confident. "Get your hand away from me, you pig!"

By the way she's reacting, I can tell she's not speaking of his hand that's around her neck... but the seats block the view, and I can't see where his other hand is.

Drake grabs her hair, and she squels.

"I'll touch you wherever the fuck I want, if I wanted you to get down on your knees right now, I could make you. And you can't do anything to stop me." He spat, anger ringing in his voice.