From Hate Flourishes Love

No Escape

Content Warning:
This chapter of the book contains mature themes, including depictions of sexual violence, and language that some readers may find distressing. Reader discretion is advised.

🅚🅐🅘

The air is hot and thick, tinged with the acrid stench of gasoline and rubber. Darkness swallows the every inch of the space, leaving no clue as where the it ended or it began. I'm too weak to think, but consciousness creeps into my mind, and it's a harrowing realization that I've been shove into the thin lining of car trunk.

My head throbs, and the rhythm of the distant hums of the engine makes the pain worst. My wrists ached, tied too tightly behind my back, the coarse rope bit into my skin with every single jolt of the car. The pain in my leg is pitiless, and despite one already being broken, both of my legs are bound with knees bent to awkwardly fit the cramp space.

I blink — though it's useless in a dark that's strangling me — and try to recall how I got here. Falling asleep in Zander's arms is the last thing I could remember.

A sudden sharp turn throws my weight against the side of the trunk, slamming my shoulder hard against the metal wall. A muffled groan escapes my lips before I could catch it.

I freeze, holding my breath.

I could hear voices above the faint roar of a busy tires on asphalt. Two, maybe three of them. They're hushed but I make out the rises and falls in their conversation.

"Wire us the rest of the cash," one says, his voice rough and strained, "or we don't bring the boy to you."

"You think the boss will let me get a taste of him?" the other man asks in a hopeful voice. "I haven't been with a boy since prison. I got a look at him, and he's has to be the prettiest boy that I've ever seen. I had fun with the pretty boys like him in prison."

Tears stain my cheek as panic crashes over me. I force my mind for thoughts on saving my ass. I try twisting, my wrists back and forth out of their binds. I stretch
and flex my arms through the shooting pain, hoping to create some slack in the rope.

A faint clunk echoes as the car rolled to a stop on the gravel. I could tell that we aren't on the expanse of the main road anymore. Wherever these men are bringing me, they were almost there. I didn't have time to wait.

I wriggle against my bindings, gritting my teeth against the pain as the rope gashes my flesh. I stomp my knees against the corners of the trunk, thinking I could get lucky, and hit the emergency latch.

I feel the car stopping, then hear the door opening and slamming shut one after the other.

I throw myself towards the latch, ignoring the soreness in my muscles, and the haunting fear in my chest. I get lucky enough to brush the latch just as the approaching  footsteps get nearer

The trunk pops opens, and hands drags me. The early sunlight burns my eyes. Their dark spots in my vision, but I do my best to take in my surroundings — a dense forest, alive with the sounds of waking birds and other creatures rustling about.

"Hmph," I scream questions at my kidnappers but they get muted by the tape over my mouth.

I can't make out the face of the kidnappers as the man carrying me, throws my face away from them.

They bring me into a dusty, crumbling cabin, then they tie me down with ropes to an old wooden chair.

The two men walking around the cabin without a word to me, or each other.