Finally Breathing

~ Chapter 33 ~

Sky's POV

"Police, open up!"

 A huge bang.

I awoke from my daze, blood soaked hair lazily slipping off my tear-stained cheeks. The room was a hazy mess, my eyes unable to comprehend the objects in front of me. I could hear some distant commotion behind me, a few stern voices and quickened footsteps.

What was happening?

"Get up." My captor whispered, tugging me up off the concrete floor, unlocking my chains with a hurried glance at the room's door. 

"We need to go."

I rubbed my eyes hastily, quickly re-surveying my surroundings. I was still in the 'bed' room, crusted white paint peeling beside the mould that grew next to the window frame. It was foul, as was the man who dumped me here.

"I am not going anywhere with you." I seethed, struggling against his strangling grip on my aching upper arms. "I will never go anywhere with you, unless you take me back to my moms, back to my home and leave us alone." I paused for a second.

"IN HERE!" I screamed, begging, pleading for any kind of help that I could get.

He sighed, freeing one hand from my left arm before reaching for his ripped back pocket. 

"I hoped that I wouldn't have to do this Sky. You forced me, remember that."

A glint of silver crossed my blurred vision, the blade glistening in the snap of sunlight that was snaking in from a gap in the slated roof. 

Holy shit. A blade. I was going to die.

He pushed me once more, forcing me forward as I tripped over my own feet, body blistered and bruised. I suppose that wouldn't have mattered once he was done with me. Either way, I reckon I was dead. We passed the door that I guess I entered through, the barricades twisted as the doors swung in. 

"Police!"

The voice was growing louder and louder, as were the frantic and agitated movements of the man who had almost ruined my life. Maybe he still would. We rushed in the opposite direction, towards a sage green backdoor that seemed to be an unused fire exit. He slammed his free fist onto the dusty metal bar, letting us out onto a gravel street that swam with the heat of Paris' summer weather. 

"Shit."

Tobin's POV

Sky. My baby. 

The French Police force were surrounding the two, guns raised. 

It turned out the Sergeant was right; Sky's captor had used the backdoor to try and escape the oncoming pack of police. It swung open menacingly, each swing executing an ear-piercing screech as its hinges slowly gave way to the brutality of its opening. 

"Mom..." She whispered, tears brimming as she spotted us beyond the onslaught of police. 

"Baby..." I replied, making so as to run at her, to hold her and never let go. She was a mess: US tank top torn and covered in sweat, hair matted with a sticky, dark substance that I hoped wasn't her blood, usually bright and cheery eyes ones of despair and hopelessness. She also appeared to be quickly losing consciousness, emotions being the only thing keeping her from collapsing on the spot.

"ma'am, s'il vous plaît , back away." an officer stated, firmly grasping my shoulders as I attempted to break through their circle of offence. I wanted my baby, my Sky, my daughter. I needed her, we, the team and Chris, needed her, and she quite clearly needed us too. He walked me back over to Christen, who grasped me tightly. I needed to get her back to the hotel safely, to hold her and reassure myself that she wasn't gone forever.