Leather face / Thomas Hewitt x Reader |More than friends|

Part 7 |I Don't Know|

"Well, welcome to the real world," he breathed, and with another cackle he said, "now we gotta go get your friend."

He whirled down the road, you were now less afraid of being murdered and more afraid of the fact this man would probably crash at any moment.

"There she is!" He whooped and hollered at the sight of Jenny running not too far up the road.

"No!" I screamed, "leave her alone!" Without thinking I grabbed the steering wheel, I wouldn't let him get her too. She had to make it. She had to escape. "Fuck you!" I turned the wheel with as much force as I could, sending us into the ditch.

"You little brat!" He threw the truck in reverse, quickly getting out of the ditch, making me feel like my attempt to help Jenny was useless. "Now look what you fucking did," he gestured ahead, "you broke my goddamn headlight." I didn't respond. I had nothing to say. "Did you fucking hear me? Hm?" He hummed angrily, smacking me in the back of the head, "you have anything to say, or are you just gonna sit there like a wounded puppy?" Still I didn't answer. He tangled his fingers in my hair again, pulling my face way too close to his, "well," he started, "you'll be happy to know she's headed exactly where we want her." His lopsided grin told me he was telling the truth.

"No," I whimpered, clambering for the door. To my surprise I was able to get out, and I ran. I ran like I had never run before, in the opposite direction of where Jenny was going, the opposite way the man's truck was facing.

As I ran I looked over my shoulder. The trucks engine was getting louder. He had turned the truck around and was rushing toward me full throttle. He was just about to catch up to me when I made the split second decision to run into a thick patch of trees. They were close enough together that the truck couldn't get through.

He pulled the truck right up to the tree line, opened the door and hung out of it, "you don't know what the hell you're doin'" he pulled out a very large, very bright flashlight. "Just where to you think you're goin'?" I was hyperventilating, both from the running and from pure panic. I just stood there in the trees, wide eyed, watching as his light searched the bunch of trees.

My breath hitched in my throat when he shut his car off. "Okay, if that's what you want..." he paused, "it's up to you." It looked like he was about to leave, "live and learn." He said before hoping out of the truck and dead sprinting into the forest.

"No! Go away!" I screamed trying to run deeper into the trees, but my hoodie snagged on a sharp branch, and it cut into my shoulder. Despite the swearing pain, I tried and tried to unhook myself from the tree, but he got so close so fast, I didn't have anytime. I just got myself loose as he caught up to me. He grabbed my hurt arm and jerked me back over to the truck, pressing his other hand into my wound whenever I tried to pull away. Still as he hauled me back into the truck I thrashed against him, but he just slammed my head into the dash, "fuck," I cried and groaned at the pain I felt. My head was throbbing, it was as if I could feel my heart beating in my brain. While I cliched my head, the man was rummaging around for something in the compartment in front of me. He pulled out a rag and a glass bottle. 'Shit' I thought as the car came to another abrupt stop.

I really tried to go out the door, but he pulled me into a kind of choke hold. I couldn't get away as he place the damp white rag over my mouth and nose. I threw my head left and right, evading the rag as much as I could, but he caught my face and pressed with so much force, I thought my nose might break. I cried and whined, continuing to throw myself around. I clawed at his hands as he let out a low throaty laugh. I kept pulling at his hands as I felt my strength falling away from me. I was dizzy, and weak, but I pressed on, "your a fiery one, I'll give you that," he rasped into my ear, "but they all go eventually..." he said something else but I couldn't really here him, sounded kind of like he said a name, and that whoever it was "will like you," but I couldn't be sure. I also thought I heard a buzzing, kind of like a chainsaw, but it was just a distant humming as consciousness slipped from my grasp. My arms fell first, then my body went limp, and then everything was black...

~~~~

I started to wake back up, and I was still in the truck. I weakly looked around, but I couldn't see the man. I limply reached for the door, but it was torn open before I even had a chance to so much as touch it. There he was, standing there, hair a mess, shirt partially unbuttoned. "Well, good morning sleepy head," his Texas drawl slipping off his tongue. He grab my arm, and with a little tug I went tumbling out of the truck, slamming my body on the compact dirt floor.

He must have found it hilarious, watching me attempt to crawl away, given by the laughter that proceeded my whines.

He gripped my ankle, pulling me toward him, and for the first time I saw the house he had brought me to. It looked so familiar, it was an old style white house, but the part I recognized the most was the porch, despite its wrecked state, I knew I had seen it before. He then lifted me up and threw me over his shoulder as if I weighed nothing. I looked around in my haze as he carried me, trying to take in my surrounding, and trying to keep myself awake.

In the house, he brought me straight to what looked like a kitchen. He pulled out a chair and tossed my limp body onto it. Shock coursed through me like a slap in the face, instantly I felt more awake. I tried to stand up but the man grabbed my face, roughly pushing my hair out of the way as he startled me. He grabbed my jaw and top of my throat with one large hand, "what are you gonna do?" I croaked through sobs.

"You don't fucking believe this do you?"

I ignored him, "what are you gonna do to me?"

"I asked you a goddamn question," he said calmly.

"He asked you a goddamn question!" The somewhat older looking man standing by the exit to the kitchen spoke up.

"Yes, I..." I tried to respond but I could barely get a word out to to the forceful hold he hand on my face and throat.

"You don't think the FBI has this place under 24-hour surveillance? You don't think there's transmitters in all these walls?" He asked he a craze.

"I- I don't know."

He finally let go of my throat, both hands now placed on the sides of my head by my ears. I sucked in a big gulp of air, taking it when I could. "Let me ask you one question," he said, gripping my hair now, "are you havin' fun yet?" He was smiling.

I sobbed, "oh god."

His next words were broken up by horrid chuckles, "cause' I promise you..." he press his face into mine, "I promise you and I are gonna have some fun." He sounded genuinely excited, it made my stomach turn.

"No, no more. Please," I quietly begged through tears as he grabbed my hair even tighter if that was possible.

"What's my fucking name?" He spat, moving back a bit, still startling me.

"I don't know," I sobbed.

"What is this?" He held up two fingers with one, middle and pointer, the other still in my hair.

"I don't know," I repeated, "I don't know." He shoved them into my mouth as I cried trying to move away from him.

"You don't know shit, do you?" His voice was horribly calm.

"No," I cried continuously.

He pulled his fingers out of my mouth, holding me by the jaw again, "do you think all I wanna do is kill you?" He laughed.

"I don't know," my voice was getting raspy.

He still had his hand around to my throat, squeezing to, effectively cutting off my air flow, "you goddamn right, you don't." He pressed harder and I couldn't breath.

Word count: 1400+

A/N- oh boy