Peter. Peter Parker.

Chapter 24: Gotcha

Y/N's POV:

It had been 2 weeks since Dad and Daphne took me. The only things I remember were coming home from school, seeing my dad, and then blackness. I woke up a few hours later in the back of a van, handcuffed to the seat. 30 minutes after that, we came to my dad's cabin outside the city. At least I thought it was a cabin. He would come out here most weekends saying he was going hunting or wanted to go enjoy the peace of nature in contrast to the big city.

Oh, how I was wrong.

From the outside, the "cabin" looked exactly that. Log exterior and a wrap-around front porch with a swing and dead and/or plants hanging from the railing. However, with a closer look, I noticed the overly thick front door, the shotguns leaning against one of the dead plants, the security cameras discreetly placed around the porch, and the bars around the windows.

If he brought someone here, it'd be almost impossible to leave.

...he brought me here. Was I not supposed to leave?

My dad had always been a hard ass but he had never been rough with me, until today. He didn't bother being polite or even gentle as he dragged me out of the car and practically threw me on the front porch. My knees hit the wood floor with a sickening crack.

That was going to leave a bruise.

Daphne grabbed me next. By the hair. As soon as my dad unlocked the door with a key, a fingerprint, and an eye scan, she scrunched my hair in her hands and pulled me through the house. I didn't get a good look at the interior but what I did see was metal. Machines. Before I could try and figure out what they were, Daphne dragged me to a door that I could only assume was the basement.

In contrast to the bright lights and whirring sounds upstairs, the basement was dark and cold. There was hardly a whisper of a machine and only one lightbulb hanging from the ceiling giving off a faint glow. In the corner was a dusty mattress and a thin blanket.

"Your bed," Daphne growled, her normal sweet composure now gone. "Hope you like the cold," she sneered and walked back up the stairs. I heard her turn at least three locks before she walked off and just like that... I was alone.

Peter's POV:

Ned covered for me in class. He probably came up with a completely unbelievable excuse but I didn't care. I had to make sure Y/N was ok. Something in my gut told me she wasn't and usually, I went with my gut.

I swung to the warehouse we got shot at first, nothing. It was completely cleaned out, not even a speck of dust or a scrape on the floor to hint that anything or anyone was there. I went to her house after that. It was cute, small but cute. I went up to the front door prepared to kick it open only to find it unlocked. Cautiously, I walked inside to find it a mess. Either they had been robbed or they had left in a hurry, not bothering to clean up. My guess was the second one. I looked around the kitchen, the bathroom, what I guessed was her father's room, the guest room, and then Y/N's room.

It matched her perfectly. Her bed was in the corner, messy. A nightstand next to her bed held a lamp and papers with half-finished sketches all around it. She was good. Across the room was a bookshelf overflowing with books, some I had heard of but most I hadn't. She had Edison bulbs strung across the ceiling and the fan looked like she had painted each arm with different types of flowers. I smiled to myself.

This was her. I loved it.

Ending my moment before I got distracted, I looked around for something that could help me. The only thing I could find was a picture of her and her dad in the corner on top of the bookshelf.

Weird, I thought she didn't like her dad.

She was much younger in the picture, barely five by my count. She was held by a woman who I could only guess was her mother and a man who had one arm around the woman and one hand holding his daughters. They were in front of what looked like a cabin. I was about to abandon the picture altogether until I noticed something. There were bars on the windows, shotguns leaned against newly potted plants, and security cameras, almost too small to notice, were placed discretely around the porch. In the corner, an address.

Gotcha.