Five days. Five long, miserable days you had been here. Five days, you'd had to put up with your Uncle's men leering at you. Five days you had been given nothing but a sheet to wrap around yourself. They'd taken everything; your clothes, shoes, phone. You had fought them on the bracelet; said your Mom had given it to you and you couldn't bear to part with it? The guy's response? I don't care if God gave it to you. Take it off. Asshole. You sighed and ran your hands through your greasy hair. You hadn't been allowed out of this dark, dank little room. It held a bed and attached bathroom with no shower, naturally.
"Hey!" You roared, banging loudly on the door confining you. "I want to wash my fucking hair! At least let me take a bath, you fucking heathens!"
No reply. You growled in the back of your throat and walked over to your only salvation, sheet trailing behind you. There was a small, foot-by-foot window on the back wall of your room. You could tell, looking out, that you were several stories off of the ground. You put your face on the windowsill and breathed in the cool night air. Eh? Smoke? Your eyes snapped open and you stood on your tiptoes, peering outside. There! On the horizon, you saw the tell-tale glow of a fire. Multiple fires? Black smoke billowed on the air, stinging your nose.
I will burn down the entire fucking world to bring you back to me, Kitten, Yoongi's voice echoed in your head, and you let out a breath. He was out there. Hunting down the Hoodlums. Searching for you. It made your heart swell with fierce joy and pride. Maybe you'd make it through this, after all. You swallowed hard and inhaled the acrid smoke on the breeze, as if you could breathe in the smell of the Manor, of Jungkook and Hobi, Jin and Jimin, Namjoon, Tae and Yoongi with it.
"I know you're out there," you whispered into the night. "I know you'll find me. Pleas--"
You were cut off by the door to your small little room banging open.
"Hey, gorgeous," a handsome man sauntered in, a smirk painting his full lips. "Bossman sent me to make sure you were still alive." He ran his tongue over his teeth. "Your Boys killed a lot of my friends, you know," he said, running a hand through his long blonde hair. You didn't like the way his eyes raked you head to toe, as if he could see through the thin sheet. You gripped the fabric tighter around yourself and scowled.
"And you kidnapped me and shoved a gun in one of my best friend's mouths. We're fucking even," you spat on the ground by his feet, and the young man laughed; low and rough.
"I think I'm entitled to some...compensation." He paced forward and you matched him, step for step; backing up as he advanced. He reached out and hooked a finger under the hem of the sheet, jerking it out of your grip, baring your chest to the chill of the room. He licked his lips as he eyed your breasts, your nipples hard from the cold. "Nice."
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