The Boy

Chapter 8

Greta's P.O.V: "Malcom, what are you doing here?" I ask hiding behind the door, while looking behind me every few seconds to make sure Brahms isn't here.
"What do you mean what am I doing here? I just got back from the hospital and I'm here to take you away" he says grabbing my wrist.
I pull from his grasp and take a step back, than say, "Malcom, I'm not leaving".
He looks at me with an expression of bewilderment and takes a step forward. "What do you mean you're not leaving? Did you forget that he almost tried to kill us?!" he yells in a whispering voice, so as not to catch any attention from Brahms.
"No, Malcom. You're wrong. He was protecting me. He needs me, and I need him. Now, please; just go, Malcom".
His eyebrows furrow with mixed emotions of anger and confusion. "Dammit, Greta!!" he says while running his hands through his hair "We don't have time for this. I'm taking you with me and that's final!".
He grabs on to my wrist once again and pulls me outside through the door. "Malcom, let go!" I yell, but he doesn't budge and tightens his grip.
He picks me up as I kick and scream, than throws me into his trunk.
"You'll thank me later" he says before stuffing a white handkerchief in my mouth and tying my hands behind my back with a rope, than closing the trunk on me.
I feel myself getting nauseous within every second that goes by as hot tears run down my flushed cheeks.
Save me Brahms...