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*AUTHORS NOTE*

Hi everyone. Please don't hate me. (:

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Day 1

No. No, no, no, no, no.

This isn't happening.

I'm going to wake up at any minute. This isn't real.

I'm in bed, and when I open my eyes and roll over, Grey and Ryker will be there. They'll be cuddled up together because they didn't want to wake me up, and they'll look so adorable that I'll join their pile of cuddles and happily fall back asleep.

I'm going to open my eyes, and that's exactly what I'll see. Because this isn't happening.

No, no, no, no.

I opened my eyes and saw carpet. My vision blurred as reality sunk in, my muffled sobs echoing off the walls of the trunk and reverberating in my ears.

I can't believe this is happening. He said he would be right back; Ryker said he was going to get Grey and they were going to come right back.

He said that he was going to get our Grey back. And then they would come back to me.

I clutched my own hand with the other, and squeezed.

Squeeze, squeeze, squeeze.

I've never had to calm myself down before. I don't think I can do this. It's so hard to fucking breathe in whatever space I'm in. They're trying to suffocate me, and let me drown in my own tears.

I need them. I need my mom. I need my dad. I need anyone.

Squeeze, squeeze, squeeze.

Squeeze, squeeze, squeeze.

I kept squeezing my own hand until I was able to take whatever deep breaths I could through my nose since I couldn't through my mouth. I need to focus.

I need to focus if I have any chance of getting out of here. I took deep, calming breaths to try and slow my heart rate, and push waves of calm through my body, imagining that it was one of Grey or Ryker's kisses.

Next, I evaluated my circumstances.

I'm in the trunk of a car, and it's moving fast over smooth roads, meaning we're on a highway of some sort. There are multiple highways in my town so that doesn't help with determining what direction we're going. But since I'm in the trunk, and not in the car, that means we're traveling through places that are well-populated because they don't want me to be seen.

The car was slowing down, and my heart froze. We can't be at the destination already, I haven't had time to assess everything. I'm not ready to face my captor yet.

I focused on the sounds outside the car and heard jackhammers and the beeping of trucks. And the car was still moving just at a slower pace. That means we're driving through a construction zone. And there's only one highway near us that is always being worked on. I-95.

And since the cold is not seeping into my bones, I know that we're heading south.

Soon, the car was back to full speed; racing towards its destination with "precious" cargo in the trunk.

My hands are bound together by rope, and so are my feet. My mouth is taped over with duct tape. But my tears and spit have started to erode the stickiness. So if I kept licking, I might be able to get it off. And whoever tied this rope tied it so poorly. I should be able to get out of these if I focus hard enough.

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