Kidnapped

Chapter 2- Have I Been Kidnapped?

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I feel adrenaline pump through me as I land in the back of the van.

Shit, I should've looked at the license plate number, I think. That's right, I have my phone! I hope the battery doesn't die and it doesn't vibrate. When they drag me out of the van I'll look at the license plate. Maybe I can try to call for help too. The engine rumbles and I feel the floor vibrate beneath me. My heart feels as though it'll pound out of my chest and my blood runs cold. I wonder how long the drive will be.

Then I hear voices. One from the drivers seat, another from the passenger seat, and two others in the back with me. The thought of people looming over me where I can't see them makes my skin crawl. I never liked the feeling of being watched.

What are they planning to do anyways? I shake my head as if the thought were a fly buzzing around my head, then again rest it on the hard floor.

"She was so squirmy. Seriously, she gave me a bruise on my leg!" I hear the deep voice snort with annoyance. I assume it was the bulky man. I remember my leg making contact with something, but I didn't have time to think about what it was.

"At least you didn't have to get her blood on your hands," another voice complains. I think it must be the woman; it sounded more feminine. But what does she mean? Is my head bleeding? Now that I think of it, I did feel a warm puddle starting to form under my head.

"Relax, we got what we wanted," the driver says. What do they want with me?

"But was it really worth all the energy?" the passenger questions. What energy? They just jumped out and took me, didn't they?

"Why don't we ask her some questions while we drive? What do you say, Tyler?"

"Fine." The driver agrees. I assume that the driver must be Tyler. I hear ruffling right by my head and before I know it there are fingers at the edge of the duck tape over my mouth, then he rips it off, making my lips and cheeks sting.

Before I can think, I'm rolled onto my back and I'm staring into the face of a dark eyed, dark haired man in his early twenties. I see cruelty in his eyes. What is he planning to do?

I spit in his face. Anger is a blazing fire in his eyes. I smirk before I can think about it as I watch my saliva move down his face. He brings his arm back and his rough hand strikes the side of my face. I feel dazed. I let my head fall to the side to see my braid, and I hear him laugh. I look to see a smirk on his face.

"Fuck you." I mumble, and this earns me another slap, laugh, and smirk, now the side of my face is numb. "What do you want?" I ask more calmly now. My face burns, my heart pounds,  my ears ring.

"You'll find out soon enough." Yet another smirk from the brown eyed man. "What's your name?" he asks, sitting back.

Fake name. Don't give your real name. Think...

"Beatrice." I say quietly. My face gets another stinging blow.

"I know it starts with a 'c', asshole," the black haired man yells.

"Then why did you ask?" I retort. I get a fist to the face that makes my jaw throb.

"Calm down, Pat," the girl says, glaring at the cruel man who keeps hitting me.

"You don't tell--" Pat is interrupted by Tyler.

"We don't want her to get broken." He sighs. "Shut her up now." I hear the duck tape. My mouth is covered once more.