Of Bleeding Pride

Chapter 2

Chapter 2

His name was Jake Holloway; son of the infamous Richard Holloway. He was only 26 years old and he was already the most dangerous man around. Leader of the pack, so to speak, he was the enemy - The Hellhounds. I was surprised he hadn't killed me yet - that's how dangerous he really is. No doubt, our poor friend shot dead on the sofa, was Jake's doing.

I could feel myself shrinking in the back, when I heard a phone ring. Jake answered swiftly, barking at the person on the other line with an annoyed tone of voice.

"I couldn't give a fuck where you left it, just clean up the mess back at that fucking house!" he yelled. I could only assume he meant the 'mess' he left at the house he kidnapped me from. "You know what, leave it! It's not like I give a fuck about getting caught or anything!" he said with a scary tone of sarcasm before hanging up the phone. I gulped hard, knowing I'd have to endure his sudden wrath. "Fuck!" he exclaimed in frustration.

Well, it wasn't like I could do much; I was still tied up and muzzled.

His dangerous eyes flashed to mine in the rear-view mirror, and I looked at him absolutely petrified. Oh god, what was he going to do? His mouth twitched up in a smirk and he grinned at me making me squirm under his gaze. I would normally love a smile as sexy as his directed at me, but the smile he was giving was hardly meant to be sexy; it was sinister - hiding a range of ways he was going to torture me.

I tore my eye focus away from his and stared blankly out the window at the passing scenery. It was dark. The night had taken over from what was once an orangey-twilight, and replaced it with a dark blue sky speckled with glittery bright stars. It was beautiful. If it weren't for my situation, I would be enjoying the view with content. But no; I was being kidnapped.

The car came to a sudden halt. He promptly exited the car and before I knew it, my door was swung open and he was dragging me out. He pulled me along like a rag doll and it hurt, so much. I couldn't control the tears that were now pouring down my face. I could make out the basic look of where we were and it looked like an old shack, or barn, or shed, or something. It was dim lit, rusty and it smelled stale. I could feel his penetrating gaze on my crumbling figure, but I couldn't care less. For god's sake, I just wanted the torture to stop.

"If I remove the muzzle, no one will hear you scream. But that won't stop me from making you pay your flesh for every sound you make, understood?" he commanded, not taking any bullshit. I nodded weakly. After a bit of speculation, he tore the cover off my mouth. I sucked in sharp, silent breaths. The overwhelming urge to look at him came out of nowhere, and I found myself slowly meeting his cold eyes.

"Why -" I said in such a small voice, I wasn't sure if I actually said it or not. He just continued to look at me with a furious gaze. I winced and turned away from him. It proved a little difficult when I realised I still had my hands tied up, but that didn't really matter.

"Look at me." He demanded. When I didn't move, he yanked my hair back until I was lying on my back, looking up at his stern face from the ground. He somehow looked even more terrifying on that angle. "You will obey, and you will do what you are told." Before I could even register his words, he pulled out a switchblade knife and pressed it up against my neck. "Or, would you prefer to just die?" he said viciously. I couldn't help the overwhelming fact that I just wanted this to end.

"Yes!" I yelled. I watched as his expression went from furious to mystified.

"...What?" he asked with such confusion, it made him angry. It was all written all over his face, he was trying to find any sign of a bluff, but I just wouldn't give it.

"Kill me." I hissed through clenched teeth, still feeling the tears rolling their way down my cheeks. He snarled at me before grasping my hair so tight from the scalp it felt like it was tearing the whole top of my skull off.