Kidnapped

Chapter 23 - Brawl

I glance down at my hand, slick with blood that drips in an infuriatingly steady rhythm onto the wet leaves beneath me. The crimson beads blur against the dark forest floor, vivid even in the muted gray light filtering through the canopy. Panic flares as I press the wound anxiously to my shorts, trying to stifle the flow.

A shiver runs through me—not from the cold, but from the stark realization of how vulnerable I am.

The car idles just a short distance away, its engine rumbling like a predator’s growl, searching, relentless. My muscles are coiled so tightly that they ache, every fiber of my being screaming to flee. But I don’t dare move. If my captor finds me, I know he’ll never leave me with Vince again. I’ll be dragged back, and this time there will be no second chances, no thin slivers of safety.

I can’t go back. I won’t. The thought of his leering eyes, his hands gripping too tightly, makes bile rise in my throat. I force myself to swallow, to block out the cold biting through my clothes, and focus all my strength on staying perfectly still.

“Don’t be stupid, there’s nowhere to go!” His voice cuts through the downpour, rough and commanding. The threat woven into his tone sends a jolt of terror racing down my spine.

The tint of the car’s windows keeps me blind. Is Vince with him? The uncertainty tightens my chest. A sharp, throbbing pain pulses in my side, each thud making my vision blur. I squeeze my eyes shut for a moment, just long enough to think, Please don’t get out of the car. Please.

The engine shifts to a low growl as the car creeps forward, the headlights cutting through the rain and casting fleeting shadows across the trees.

I force myself down, pressing my body flat against the damp earth. The forest floor is drier beneath the protective cover of the branches, but the rough, uneven ground scratches at my skin as I inch sideways, moving as silently as I can, further into the maze of trees.

The storm is no longer a distant backdrop but a harbinger, moving closer with every second.

His voice cuts through the rain again, harsher, more insistent. I can’t make out the words, but the rage in them is clear, a promise of what awaits if he finds me. The surge of adrenaline pumps through me, urging my body onward even as exhaustion claws at my muscles.

Don’t stop. Don’t let them catch you. The underbrush scrapes at my stomach and thighs, leaving stinging welts that add to the burning in my side.

Blood still trickles from my palm, smeared across leaves and dirt as I move. The possibility of it leaving a trail stabs through my mind, cold and merciless. Please, please let the rain wash it away. The silent prayer hammers with each heartbeat as I crawl further, trembling with the effort to stay quiet, to stay hidden.

Suddenly, the engine cuts off, and the silence that follows is so profound that my pulse seems to roar in my ears. A car door creaks open, then slams shut, followed by the heavy thud of boots hitting the ground.

“Find her!” My captor’s voice echoes with cold command, sharp as the edge of a knife.

My muscles tighten as I hear footsteps heading into the woods. I freeze, barely daring to breathe.

“I'll take the East!” I hear Vince growl, trying to match his brothers icy tone. My stomach twists as I realize he’s playing along, masking the unease in his voice. The footsteps stop just yards away, and I hear Vince moving methodically through the brush. My breath catches as he suddenly steps into my line of sight, his eyes locking onto mine for a split second. It’s a look that says everything: Stay down. Trust me.

“See anything?” My captor shouts, frustration mounting.

“Not yet!” Vince shouts back, his gaze flicking away as he scans the trees, deliberately moving past where I lay trembling.

“Find her!" He demands, "I’m not going to jail over some little fuck toy!” My captor’s voice lashes through the woods, sharp and vile. My chest clenches at his words, so uncaring even after everything I lost to him.

Boots crunch over a broken branch, stopping not far from where Vince stands. “Take a look at this!" The man yells, pointing to the streaks of blood leading into the forest. His eyes glint with suspicion, his voice dripping with venom. “How the hell did she manage to get this far unless you helped her? What, did she spread her little legs and beg you to play the hero? Little slut,” he spits out, leaning closer, his tone dropping to a sneer meant to provoke.

“Don’t talk about Lila like that!” Vince’s words explode into the clearing, raw and sharp, cutting through the tense air. A sudden silence falls between them, broken only by the rain that patters relentlessly around us.

My captor’s eyes widen briefly in shock, then narrow, hardening as realization sinks in. “Her name, Vince?” His voice turns icy, a shiver snaking up my spine. “You really have gone soft, haven’t you? Falling for some tiny, scared little girl? Pathetic, Vince. You're weak" he laughs cruelly.

The blow comes fast. Vince’s fist cracks against his brother’s jaw, sending him staggering back with a snarl. They collide, the sound of fists hitting flesh sickeningly real, punctuated by the gasps and grunts of struggle. My heart pounds wildly as I watch, frozen with the need to help and the terror of being caught.

Vince looks my way for a fraction of a second, eyes fierce and imploring. Run.

But his brother catches the shift in his attention, using the momentary distraction to swing his fist into Vince’s temple. Vince falls hard, the thud reverberating through the ground.

My body reacts before my mind catches up. I snatch up the nearest branch, its rough surface biting into my scraped palms.

With a surge of adrenaline, I charge forward and swing the branch at my captor’s back, putting every ounce of strength into it. The impact lands with a dull, cracking thud, barely enough to make him stumble forward. Shit.

He turns slowly, the rain carving sharp rivulets down his face, eyes dark with fury and edged with a twisted hint of amusement. His gaze locks on me, and a sneer pulls at his lips. “Really?” The single word drips with condescension, making the hair on the back of my neck stand on end.

Vince, still clutching his head, lifts his eyes to me with a mix of exasperation and a flicker of admiration, a smirk teasing the corners of his mouth despite the danger. “Jesus, Lila,” he mutters.

My breath hitches, and instinctively I drop the stick. The mans eyes shift, flicking between rage and something more sinister, as if debating whether to be furious or entertained by my defiance.

He takes a deliberate step forward, the muscles in his jaw flexing, a vein pulsing visibly at his temple. His gaze sweeps over me, assessing, calculating. “Listen, sweetheart, this has gotten way out of hand,” he says, his voice falsely calm, dangerously smooth. “You’re not going to win. So just come on back to the farmhouse.” He takes another step, his smile tightening. “And I promise, I'll take care of you.”

A shiver races down my spine, cold and sharp, but I plant my feet, willing the tremor in my knees to still. I can feel Vince’s eyes on me even as he struggles to rise, his movements sluggish, pained. The rain hammers down, relentless, each drop like a needle pricking my resolve.

“I want to go home, now!” The words burst from me, raw and desperate, my voice cracking under the weight of the fear clawing up my throat.

For a moment, silence crashes over us, heavy and suffocating. His smile twists, something dark and unkind glinting in his eyes. “Home?” He chuckles low, the sound devoid of humor. “This is your new home. Whether you like it or not.”

Before I can react, Vince surges up from the ground, his body colliding with his brother’s in a sudden, fierce motion.

“Lila, go!” Vince’s voice cuts through the chaos, hoarse and commanding.

I take a shaky step back, and the world around me blurs into a blend of wet bark and green foliage as I begin to sprint.

I don’t look back. I can’t. The wind whips through the trees, carrying with it the last muffled sounds of Vince’s struggle. I push forward, legs burning, lungs screaming for air as I weave deeper into the cover of the woods, each step taking me further from the nightmare behind me and toward a fragile, uncertain hope of freedom.