Courtney's POV
The thought of it all this being a nightmare quickly disappeared when I wake up the next morning.
I try holding back my tears but they slowly slid down my cheeks. I roll over and shove my head in the pillow. Why am I stuck in the position? Why is this for my own safety? At least I'm not handcuffed when I'm sleeping. Should I try to gain more of their trust or run?
"You awake?" I hear an unfamiliar voice ask.
"No," I mumble into the pillow.
"So you don't want pancakes?" Pancakes? Should I get some? They could be poisoned. I don't want their food. They kidnapped me, they can't be friendly. I can't be friendly.
"No," I say shaking my head.
"Alright your lose," they say as they left. Should I have got some pancakes? I don't really care if it poisoned anymore. I'm not really that hungry. I think I've lost my whole appetite.
I roll back over and stare at the roof. Why me? I won't even be able to go to James and Hanna's funeral! I don't even know how Adam and Samantha are? Nikki is obviously fine, if she was on television. But she's just lost her boyfriend of nearly three years! How is Megan's treatment? Is she even still alive? Maybe I should end it. End everything?
My thoughts gets interrupted when a feel something land on my head. I knock it off to see it was a pillow.
"Come on sleeping beauty," I hear Spencer's voice.
"What?" I moan.
"It's nearly midday. It's time to get up."
I sigh and slowly throw back the covers.
"How are you?" He asks causally. How am I? I've been told that my own freaking father had his gang kidnap me. Then he doesn't want me back! Now I'm being held here for my protection. Two of the closet people, left in my life are dead! I won't be attending their funerals! My little sister is battling cancer and I can't be there with her! And you're asking me how am I? I'm fine! Obviously!
"Fine," I reply bluntly.
He sighs and shakes his head. "There is breakfast, or in your case brunch, downstairs. Andre brought your bag of clothes over, this morning and that is downstairs as well."
I just nod and follow him downstairs. We walked into an open planned kitchen with a breakfast bar. There were four men sitting around a small dinning table in the corner.
I sit down at the breakfast bar and rest my head in my hands. Why do I need their stupid protection? I really don't need it! I need to be home with my grieving siblings! A few tears threaten my eyes but I quickly wipe them away.
"You do like pancakes, don't you?" Spencer asks, glancing over his shoulder.
"Yeah. Yeah I do," I reply looking down at my finger nails.
"Il tuo frittella sono pronto," Spencer says, turning around. He gives me a large smirk and slides the plate across to me. (Translation: Your pancakes are ready.)
"Really? Why Italian?" I sigh and roll my eyes at him.
"Why not? Home genes."
"You're Italian?" I ask, shocked.
"Yep. Sure am," he says, winking at me.
"Is everyone here Italian?" I ask, trying to sound casually.
"Mostly. Amy and Ashton have distance Italian ancestors and Malcom is fully Irish. Why are you asking?"
"Don't take this the wrong way. But why is everyone's name so not Italian."
YOU ARE READING
His Girl
Romance| First book in "His" series | "I'm really sorry, but you're going to have to stay here for the next couple of months. But trust me, no one is going to hurt you when you're here." My kidnapper says, gently. "Trust! Trust you!? How can I trust you...
