Hell Himself

Same time, same place.

Ameri's pov

While my mind was fully set on the endearing sky above me, my consciousness was elsewhere. It wasn't until I felt a hand on my shoulder, gripping tight, that I realised someone was behind me.

A sharp gasp escaped my lips as I turned around swiftly, my eyes shooting above me and to the face of whoever followed me.

To mine, and possibly everyone else's, surprise, it was Tom.

"Jesus, Ameri, calm down." He mumbled, crossing his arms over his chest and sighing.

I couldn't even speak. The last time I saw him, last year, he tried to shoot me. Why was he so calm now?

"Why are you here?"

He scoffed. "Because Bill needs his gang back." He rolled his eyes at me.

I was confused. I thought these dickheads were over their gang by now. It was safer without it. Why would they want the danger again?

But maybe that's the point. They don't want to be safe. They want to be in danger. They need the fun of being at risk of death.

Tom waved a hand in front of my face, flicking my forehead.

"Ameri." He raised his voice subtly.

I looked at him, sighing and nodding. "Mhm?"

He went to talk, but then he stopped. His eyes suddenly circled around my beaten body, his eyebrows crunching in confusion. "What happened?"

I didn't reply. It didn't take a genuis to know where the bruises came from around here, around Bill.

Tom must've acknowledged my silence, considering the fact that he switched to a knowing look other than clulessness.

"Oh."

Oh? That's all he said? I'm surprised he didn't care more, or care less for that matter. It didn't bother me much, but the fact that he disturbed my peace after getting beat and tied up and tortured pissed me off.

I ignored him, turning my back to him and continuing to gaze at the sky.

I heard a loud sigh and then shuffling of movement. Out of nowhere, I heard the clink of metal, but I was too distracted to care.

I felt his cold hand grab the back of my neck, pulling me back and against his chest. My back was squished to his body, his arm around my neck and his other hand holding a fucking pocket knife against my jaw.

Not again with the knives.

He leant down to my ear, whispering threateningly. "Don't make a sound."

He started to pull me along with him, walking down the side of the house and through a small alleyway that I never even knew was there.

"I'm taking you with me." He got to a silver BMW, opening the trunk and sitting me down inside. "Don't worry, I won't hurt you this time if you're quiet and do as I say."

I didn't reply. He just scoffed at my quietness, snatching something from the bag that was next to me and tying my ankles together with a rope and tying my hands together with a zip tie. He grabbed ductape from the bag, too, and bit off a piece. He slapped it over my mouth, lifting my legs and putting me in the trunk properly.

Then, he spoke. "Don't scream, kick, try yo escape, or even try talking to me." He slammed the trunk closed.

Luckily for me, the trunk ws big and spacious, so I didn't feel cramped. But I could also see the rest of the car, which comforted me since I could see who was with us. At the same time, it's not good because if I try to escape, then Tom can see me.