Vengefully Taken [#Wattys2016]

Chapter 2

There was a soft continuous purr of what sounded like an engine that I could hear. My body felt like it was being weighed down by bricks and I could hear something playing on the radio. The pounding in my head was intense and my body ached. My head felt hazy and I struggled to remember what had happened. Slowly, the events from earlier began coming back and I had the urge to scream. Recognizing that I had been kidnapped I tried to open my eyes.

Fluttering my eyes open slowly, I let out a soft groan, pain coursing through my body. I tried to shift but my seat belt kept me in place. I blinked my eyes a few times, my vision blurry and sat up. Looking to my left, I saw my captor.

"Where are we?" I grumbled, making a motion to rub my eyes. I failed to do so and looked down, only now realizing he'd tied my hands together. I tried to pull my hands out of the rope and saw him barely glance at me, not even fazed by my presence. The rope had already begun to make my wrists sore, chaffing against them constantly.

He sat so calmly next to me, it angered me. Millions of questions were running through my head and this man looked like he was living in the clouds, not a worry to be seen. I looked at him, staring, trying to read him. Why would this man kidnap me? I bit my lip and shifted in my seat, uncomfortable. I moved both my tied hands upwards and tugged on my seat belt, feeling it holding me tight to the seat. As I tugged on the belt, it didn't move much and I realized he'd put it on child lock. Slumping my body back in my seat, I looked over at him tired.

"Do you even know my name? Or did you just decide you wanted to kidnap a pretty girl you know next to nothing about?" I tried to keep my face straight, to make it seem as though being held captive wasn't worrying me. He didn't respond right away and it angered me. After a bit he glanced over at me.

"Your name is Roslyn Kavanaugh, you're twenty-three years old, you're 5'4" and your daddy is worth big bucks. You attended Harvard but took a break for a year. You've been in and out of countries traveling since you were 9. Your mum's a whore and your dad's a piece of shit. Your Social Security Number is 719-8 -" I cut him off having heard enough.

"Alright!" I shrieked knowing how much he was enjoying this. I glared over at him and the urge to hit him was strong. He kept that smug look on his face that only angered me further. I clenched my fists, the rope tight against my wrists and I felt the anger burning inside me like a lit match. I turned my head away from him knowing if I stared any longer I would end up doing something I'd regret.

The road we were on wasn't overly populated with other drivers but it wasn't deserted either. There were trees along the road, on both sides and just past it, on my right side, was what looked like a river. I sighed softly wishing I could be floating in that river right now, away from it all. While staring outside I began to wonder why I was so calm. Anyone else in my position would be crying, screaming, and pleading to be taken home but the only thing that I could be bothered with at the moment was why my captor was so cocky and entitled. I don't know what it was about him, but I didn't find that I needed to be afraid of this man. Regardless of the fact that he'd threatened my life, put a gun to me, and kidnapped me, he didn't seem to be much of a threat, harmless even.

I closed my eyes leaning my head back on the seat, trying to get comfortable. I felt my mind drifting off, thinking about things that happened last year at school. I shook my head knowing I'd only give myself a headache if I tried to think about the past. Keeping my posture relaxed I turned my head towards him, watching his face curiously. My eyes searched every inch of his face, at least the parts I could see from my angle, and I admired his features.

His nose, I'd noticed earlier as well, had a slight dent, almost as if he'd broken it multiple times. It didn't make him look bad, it enhanced his smoldering features. His eyebrows had an arch that only aided in defining his face. The darkness of his hair, eyebrows and slight stubble made his eyes look darker than they were. He leaned back in his seat, clearly comfortable and ran a hand roughly through his hair. I don't know how, but he somehow had the ability to maintain a mischievous yet alluring demeanor.