If You Love Me Let Me Go (Scömìche)

8

Scott didn't come in that night to uncuff me, so I was forced to sleep that way. I was laying on top of the blanket, ugh. It was getting cold...

I wiggled my body, trying to somehow slip under the covers and after probably half an hour, I managed to do that, but I was sweating now and my heart was beating as if I'd juts run a marathon. I also felt a bit sick... But I shook that off, trying to focus on something else. I wanted to figure out what all of this was about. What fucking company? Was this like, organized crime? Did they have actual staff, actual employees that went out and killed people? I wondered how big his company was. Now I remembered the huge SUV that brought me here. No doubt it had bulletproof glass windows. Bulletproof vests were expensive, too. And all the guns they had, this from what I could tell huge ass modern mansion... Soon, I put one and one together and was pretty positive that Alex was a multi-millionaire. Probably also one of the reasons he wasn't in jail yet. But if they were so loaded, why were they worrying about me, just one of many? No one would believe me anyway if they had millions to offer. Why was I still here, if, after Scott, the only reason was so I wouldn't tell the police?

I pulled on the cuffs, causing myself to get more and more frustrated. Why was Scott so harsh all of a sudden, threatening to kill me after we'd- after he'd kissed me and even spent the night in my bed? Why was he so cold after I'd seen him being so warm?

I didn't notice until now but apparently I'd started crying quite a while ago, judging by my already wet and sticky cheeks and that lump in my throat. I felt myself shaking, making my wrists hurt even more because the metal just wouldn't give in. I cried tears of frustration, sadness, mental overextension, I just couldn't take it anymore. I guess it just hit me right at that moment what really happened. I'd been fucking kidnapped. I would rot in this hellhouse until I'd die and I would never see anyone again. God, how much I missed Kirstin. My best friend... I missed her so fucking much. How I wished to have one last word to tell her... But my phone had already died a long time ago, and besides- I pulled at the cuffs again - I was too restrained to type a message.

Shush. I heard a voice.

Screams.

I forced my sobs to stop to hear better. I recognized Scott and Alex.

"You fucking promised!" Scott shouted. "What got into you?!"

Alex said something I couldn't make out.

"I don't care! But shush, Mitch could hear..."

I groaned out loud. Who the fuck cared if I heard something or not, what the fuck?! I was gonna die soon! What kind of secret was it that needed to be protected like that?!

Now all I could hear were muffled voices. Ugh. I tried to calm myself down in the meantime, make me stop crying until I heard Scott's shouts again.

"Don't fucking bring up Julie again, you sick fuck!"

Julie? That stirred something from the back of my mind. Julie... Where had I heard that name again? Oh.

"Wh- what? I- I don't k- know what y- you're talking about."

"Oh, you don't?!" The guy, Scott, said sarcastically. "What about Julie, huh?! You recall that?!"

"I don't know what you're talking about," the cashier repeated, more composed now. How was he staying so calm?! How was he even able to speak?! He was literally on the brim of death!

"You know exactly who I'm talking about!" He growled. "You'll pay for it! Any last words?"

The man let out a breath and whispered, "God, help me," before Scott pulled the trigger and my vision was turned red.