Back Where I Belong

Chapter 1

Zoey's pov

Tim roughly shoves me through the crowd of people, towards the exit of the venue. As we draw closer, he stops and leans down.

"I'm going to let you go. If you say one word to those security people, or do anything that I don't like, you will be very sorry," he whispers in my ear. I nod miserably and stand perfectly still as he releases my arms. He places a hand on my shoulder and we move towards the exit.

"Have a good night you two," the security guard on the left says, smiling at us. She probably thought he was my dad or something like that.

"Thank you. And same to you," Tim replies in a cheerful voice. I feel sick. They were believing him. I contemplate sending the security guards a panicked look, but Tim is crazy. I don't know what he'll do to me or them. So I resist the urge and keep walking. He leads me out to his car and shoves me in the backseat. Much to my surprise, he had the child locks on the doors.

About an hour later, we stopped. He got out and opened my door for me. Then he pulled me out of the car, pushing me roughly towards the building.

I'm brought inside and shoved into a room.

"Sit down," he barks, pointing at one of the chairs. I quickly sit. He nods, then leaves.

Within a minute, the door swung open again. Tim walked in, along with Polly and Cindy. I do a double take, but sure as hell, it was Cindy. Polly shoves her down into the chair beside me. I see the panicked look on the thirteen year old's face and grab her hand, trying to comfort her. She sends me a grateful look and squeezes my hand.

"You two girls are in a whole lot of trouble," Tim starts.

"How so?" I ask, my confidence slowly returning.

"Well let's see, shall we. Little Miss Cindy here stole two thousand and five hundred dollars from the orphanage. And you, Zoey Noel, ran away," Polly explains, a cruel smile on her lips.

"How did you know I was at the concert?" I ask, voicing the question that had ever since Tim's hand went on my shoulder at the concert.

"Oh Zoey, we know everything that you've been doing ever since we dragged you away from those boys," Polly tells me.

"How?" Cindy asks, speaking up.

"It was easy. We just sowed a tracker into her back pack. Where it went, she went. That's is how easy it was," Tim laughs.

"That's illegal too! You're in just as much trouble as we are!" I yell, angry.

"Yes, but who's going to believe two kids over two respected adults?" Tim asks.

"We have proof as well," Cindy brags.

The two management people pale.

"We can take them to your house and keep them in the basement," Tim tells Polly. She nods. Then together, the two of them grab me, Cindy, and my bookbag, then drag us back out to Tim's car.