Mine to Protect [Kagehina]

Chapter 17: Captivity

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SUMMARY:    Hinata finds himself in a very bad situation

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A/N: CW reminder: human trafficking/sex trafficking

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Hinata came back to consciousness slowly, sluggishly. His head throbbed painfully as if he was being repeatedly stabbed in his temple with an ice pick. He was thirsty, so thirsty. He tried to swallow, but his mouth felt like cotton, and he was nauseated.

He tried to open his eyes, blinking several times at the harsh light. He squeezed them shut and opened them again, finally bringing his surroundings into focus.

What the fuck?

He didn't recognize where he was, but he was facing what appeared to be a garage door, and there was a car parked in the other bay.

A garage? What is going on?

His thoughts were taking too long to form, were too hard to put together coherently. He tried to rub his eyes with his hands but realized he couldn't move them. Confused, he looked down. He was sitting in a chair, and his arms were behind him.

Tied? He was tied to a chair? What the fuck?

Panicking, he tried to move his legs, but they were bound too. With rising fear, he tried to think. What was the last thing he remembered?

It came back to him in a sickening wave.

He had been in the car waiting for Kageyama, but he had gotten too ansty, too curious, too cramped on the floor. He sat up and peered over the back seat, trying to see any movement or hear anything from the house.

At first, he hadn't heard the car coming up the driveway, hadn't noticed the headlights, but when he did, he turned to watch, thinking that it was Yachi or Kiyoko and that the whole thing was over. He was relieved. Until he saw the car park and realized it was not either of the white vans the women had been driving. Terrified and cursing his stupidity, he had dropped back to the floor, his heart hammering wildly in his chest as he prayed he hadn't been seen. A moment later, the door opened, and he nearly shit his pants.

He heard a man's voice say, "Get out, slowly."

Hinata carefully lifted his head and saw a shadow of a man with a gun. Pointed at him. For the third time this week.

Fucking hell.

He gulped and prayed for someone to come as he slowly rose and climbed from the car. The light from the house's porch allowed him to see that the man was of medium height and plump around the middle. He appeared middle-aged, with a pear-shaped face, narrow near the forehead but with sagging jowls.

"Who are you, and what are you doing here?" the man growled.

Hinata was stalling, debating how to answer when the man spoke again. "Wait a minute, you're that redheaded reporter. What are you doing here?" he asked more forcefully, pointing the gun directly in Hinata's face.

Fear caused the words to tumble from Hinata's mouth. "Getting my sister."

The man glanced toward the house, then back at him. "Then why aren't you in there? Why are you hiding out here?"

Hinata remained silent, and the man narrowed his eyes and shoved the gun closer to his face, causing Hinata's fear to spike. "You got someone in there for you? How many guys?"

Hinata still didn't answer. The man pressed the gun against Hinata's forehead and asked again. "I said, how many?"

The cold of the metal touching his warm skin sent a chill down Hinata's spine. "Four," he answered out of self-preservation.