Romantic feelings can bloom in the most unpredictable ways.
When twenty one year old, Harry joins his mother on a summer long language teaching program, he is cast away from his life in Korea and thrown into the rural surroundings of New England. W...
Warning: Blood and gore shown in the picture provided. As well as, trigger sensitive themes.
The bumpy asphalt reminded Y/n of the time her mother rushed them to the ER. Only this time, she suffered from a bullet wound to the shoulder instead of appendicitis. The pain, though, was almost identical.
Unlike her mother, she didn't think asking her abductor to slow down would go over very well.
She remained quiet, her mind elsewhere. Rather than worry about her own precarious situation, Y/n's thoughts were back to where she'd last seen Harry. Bruised and beaten, the same group of thugs trailing behind her and her captor, were the ones that delivered the blows to her beloved friend, tearing them apart.
She ground her teeth, preventing herself from whimpering as she worked her wrists against the rope that held them together.
Ignoring the warm liquid running down her arm, she kept her mind focused. If she could free her hands, she would have a better chance at fighting back.
Gods it hurts, but never mind her superficial pain, she closed her eyes and continued on, praying that Harry made it out of the water ditch they'd thrown his body into.
The fibers of the rope began to shred away at the thin tissue around her wrists. She jerked when a shot of pain rippled up her arm, stabbing her in the temple. The sensation didn't ease as the ice-cold air wailed around them.
When the motorcycle hit a frost heave, it shook her out of her concentration. Peering down at the blur of the craggy road, she didn't mean to imagine how it might feel to tumble across the flesh-shredding terrain. But she couldn't help it. There was a good possibility it would happen. No worse than sandpaper, she thought. But all over your body.
Gods, how could they make it out of this one?
She started fighting against the knot again. In her mind, whatever these bikers had planned for her, the road would be much more forgiving. And then she stopped, the knot beginning to slip.
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