Picked My Heart

Poppy

     TRIGGER WARNING: Sexual Assult

I kept the money. I don't know who he was, but the 800 dollars spoke for itself. That man wasn't just simple folk like me. People don't casually carry 800 dollars cash in their pockets. That was about a week ago.

I just left the pawn shop, and the coin? Priceless. So I can't pawn it or just give it back. I'm stuck with it until I come up with a plan of some sort to return it.

I continue walking through town. The sun is setting, and I need to get back home.

I look over to my left, and cars pass by providing a short wind that brushes wisps of hair into my face. I feel a hand grip my arm, and before I can turn to look, everything becomes dark. The light fades away, and I become aware of what's happening. The burlap bag gives my answer, I'm being kidnapped.

Fuck
I struggle against whoever grabbed a hold of me. They have a strong grip. I open my mouth to cry out - but I'm so stubborn thinking I can handle it myself - and no sound comes out.

They cover my mouth, and everything becomes blurry, almost like a sting, but I pass out before I can figure it out.

-----

A dim light turns on above me, the bag over my head acting as a blindfold.
I clear my throat, trying to regain consciousness and simple motor skills. A slight headache forms, surrounding the inside of my skull.
Before I can focus on anything, someone grabs the bag and pulls it off my head.
My eyes dilate, and I shake the hair out of my face. A dark figure towers over me a few feet away. The dim light provides a small amount of frame for his lips, which forms a smirk.

I start to do a deep breathing exercise to calm my nerves, my breasts slowly pressing against my bra and back down.

He removes a hand from his suit pocket and steps towards me. I flinch as he brings his hand up to my mouth, removing duct tape covering my voice, which will most definitely cuss.

His deep voice echos through the room.

"You stole something of mine, Poppy."
Poppy? Who the fuck does this guy think he is? Nicknames? From a kidnapper? Why would he give me a type of flower as a nickname?
"Poppy?"
"Yes."
"What kind of fucking name is that? Where am I? Why am I here? Who are you -"

He leans in to cut my panicking short, bringing his finger to my lips.
"You stole from me."
My eyes widen from his face within the dim light. It's him. The guy from town. The one who's actually somewhat attractive. He steps back, giving me personal space, not like I care, he's a creep.

He takes a step back.
"Yea, I did. If you have a problem with it, then maybe you shouldn't carry around priceless artifacts in your wallet." I snap back.

He licks his teeth underneath his lips before smiling.
"So you do know what it is."
"No, I don't. I tried to pawn it."
He closes the space between us in an instant, gripping my throat, hard.

"You. Did. What." He growls, his face mere inches from mine, looking at my lips then back at my eyes.
I clear my throat under his grip.
"F-Fuckface. It's in my pocket -" I cough out.
He releases my throat, still resting his hand on my neck. After a small pause, he slides his hand down from my neck, to my breasts, and then to my jeans - curling his fingers above the waist line sliding my pants down.