A Break Apart

CHAPTER 30. Kidnap

                 Nadine's POV

I woke up with a throbbing pain in my head and a whooshing noise in my ears. I tried to prop myself up, but the small movement worsened the headache so I stopped, then placed the tips of my fingers on the left side of my head that was generating the overall pain. It felt moist. I brought the hand to my face, wincing as I stared at the blurred sight of red. I winced even more when I furrowed my eyebrows, wondering how I had gotten injured. It all felt as though I had woken up from a dream, but the platform I was laid on didn't feel like my bed. The entire surrounding didn't even feel like my room.

Eager to find out what in the world was going on, I forced my head up, ignoring the headache, then cleared my blurry vision by blinking a few times. A smaller window that looked nothing like mine gradually appeared before my sight and then, quickly, everything cleared up, and I realised that I was in a moving car. My eyes squinted in more confusion, but before I could try to make sense of any of this, a wave of pain flushed through my head, and like a flash I recalled an insane guy barging into my house and hitting me in the head with a gun. My eyes then widened as it dawned on me that I had been kidnapped.

Fear overcomed me, and still nothing made sense, as the face of my captive felt like something I had seen in a nightmare. It couldn't have been David. Why on earth would it be David? Our relationship ended two years ago and we hadn't seen or spoken since then.

With my body still laying in the back seat, I raised my head, just enough to peek at the driver without appearing in the rearview mirror. Reality kicked in, shocking me a second time. The lightening bolt carving on the side of the driver's head was unmistaken, and I asked myself the big question.

WHY?

As if I hadn't received enough shock in the last few seconds, I watched him drink directly from a bottle of alcohol, his other hand that held the same gun on the steering wheel. He never drank in the one year we dated, and I didn't recall him being a member of a cult group to be in possession of a gun. I was staring at a whole different person, and the fact that I had dated him with a blind eye to these deadly flags shook me to my bones.

I had long for closure ever since we broke up, and even now I was craving an explanation to this nightmare. But then I recalled the last night I was in his car and the fear I had felt over his anger. My fear right now was a billion times more, and so I was rendered a frightened mute.

We had ended on a really bad note, but I had not the slightest idea that that anger, which had only seem petty, found a long term refuge in his heart and would amount into the monster sitting in front of me. And if he could be this violent to the point of sending me into unconsciousness, only heaven knew what more he would do when we got to wherever it was that he was taking me. And I wasn't prepared to find out.

I no longer cared about the events that led me inside this predicament, as my only concern became geared towards escaping from it. My eyes darted at every corner around me, and I didn't find any tool that I could use to hit him on the head. But then an unconscious driver could cause a brutal accident, and I wasn't Jason Statham.

I quietly reached for the door. Falling out of a moving vehicle would only give me a few bruises, I thought, a lot better than being held captive for God knows how long and where in the hands of a sociopath, and the trauma that would come with it.

I held the car door handle and pushed gently. My eyes shot open when I discovered the door was locked. Panic possessed me and I started tugging at it. If I wasn't sure before, I was much certain now that my crisis was real.

I was then thrown off balance when the car jerked, and the next sound I heard was the cocking of a gun. My back glued to the seat, my wide eyes meeting the deadly black hole that was pointed at the middle of my forehead.