My Kidnappers

Chapter 2- Well, if You Insist...

Chapter 2- But if You Wanted Me To...

I quickly jolted off the bed – nearly tripping over my own feet in the process – as my eyes wandered frantically over the pitch black room, my vision straining to work in the dark. My hands reached out in front of me in hopes I would be able to feel my way out. Of course, I most definitely wasn't going to try the door, it would be the most obvious place to look, but it didn't take a genius to figure out if you kidnapped someone and trapped them in a room, you sure as hell wouldn't be stupid enough to leave the door unlocked.

But, then again – my kidnapper could be quite the idiot, right?

Not bothering to find out, I continued my search as my palms finally pressed flat against the concrete walls, running over several jagged nails in the process, earning loud hisses and gasps from me. I was almost positive if I made it out of here, I'd make it out of here looking like a masked murdered took a knife to my hands.

“Please, god.” I begged silently as I continued to feel around the room. Suddenly my hand hit something soft, as a cold and wet liquid substance covered it. My breath caught in my throat as I continued to run my hands along it. My fingertips brushed over what felt like fingers, and that was all it took for a gut wrenching scream to erupt from my lips as I quickly broke away from what seemed to be a dead body as my back barged into another heavy thing that felt like a body as well.

I slapped my hand over my mouth, tears spilling from my eyes as I quickly backed away – back towards the bed. Crawling on to it, I pulled my knees to my chest, burying my head in the crease between them as I rocked back and forth, hoping this nightmare would end soon.

*

Poke. Poke. Poke. Poke.

I groaned, swatting the poking hand away from my face. “Dylan, stop it.” I whined, burying my head into my soft – my head shot up abruptly as a horrid smell entered my nose, reminding me of what had happened. Dylan. Phone. Walk. Speedway. Slushie – kidnapper. My eyes darted to the culprit who was poking me, only to find a brunette male – staring at me with his head cocked, and a smug look on his face.

His light brown hair was ruffled lazily on top of his head, his bright sea blue-green eyes shining under the florescent light. His chin was chiseled with a handsome 5 o'clock shadow, a deep dimple appearing on his right cheek as he smirked mischievously. He was wearing an over sized dirt-stained white t-shirt – that still seemed to attach to his broad shoulders and toned chest – and rugged dark blue jeans that hung low on his waist, revealing a small amount of his Calvin Kline boxers.

He leaned against the wall, the smirk never leaving his face. “You kept me up most of the night,” he informed me, his voice sounding annoyed, yet satisfied at the same time. “You cry a lot – loudly too, may I add.”

And with that being said, reality came pouring back to me as my eyes trailed the room. Empty. The entire room was empty with nothing but a bed and a barely noticeably barred window. “But – how?” I choked out, remembering the bodies I had encountered last night. “Where did they go?”

Chuckling, he asked, “Where did who go?”

I blinked once, twice, thrice. “T-the bodies.”

Another obnoxious throaty chuckle erupted from his throat, his muscular arms slightly flexing against his chest. “You feelin' okay, Princess?” he inquired, giving me a mock concerned look.

My mouth gaped open as I shook my head and said, “I'm fine –“ I trailed off, before the question that was banging on the inside of my head escaped out of my mouth. “Why are you doing this? If you want money – my family doesn't have it.”