Get The Girl [h.s] AU

05

For the rest of the drive, I did my best to ignore him, especially when he would wince every time he would accidentally hit his injured arm. He was a fucking dick, he could go choke for all I cared.

Except that I did care because I was born with the natural instinct to help people. Regardless, I forced myself to tune him out as best as I possibly could.

After driving for about another hour, we arrived at another motel this one looking worse than the last one I was in before he took me. The room we were in had two twin beds with ugly lime green sheets, a bathroom and a small plasma tv on the wall.

The room was dark with the exception of the light from the open bathroom door where the man was in, cleaning his wound. I sat quietly on the bed, inspecting my feet that had a few cuts from the rocks I stepped on when we ran away from the store. I had absolutely no idea who those men were, I had never seen them before but the thought of my father sending them wasn't far fetched. Maybe they were trying to get me back—but then again, why would they shoot? They could've shot me and knowing how over protective my father was of me, I'd doubt they'd want to face the repercussions.

"Oh for fucks sake," He mutters distastefully. "Come on." I leaned forward on the bed to see that he was squeezing his arm, probably to push out the bullet before practically shoving a pair of tweezers in the wound. I cringed and before I knew it, the sound of the metal falling in the sink was heard. "Fucks sake." He sighed in relief. He wrapped some gauze tape he had bought on our way to the motel, securing his arm tightly to make sure blood wasn't oozing out of it.

I had already showered so there was no need for me to do anything else beside just sit which happened to entertain me very much right now. I watched as the man walked over to his bed, laying down on top of the sheets, not bothering to change out of his clothes and only kept his shirt off. "What's your name?" I finally ask after I spent almost two days with him and I still didn't know his name.

"Don't worry about it." He mumbles, still laying on his back, his eyes closing momentarily.

"Well what am I supposed to call you?"

"I don't know what makes you think you can talk to me."

"I have the right to know your name." I retort making him sigh in annoyance.

"Styles." He says after a while.

"Styles?"

"Do I need to spell it out for you?"

Great. I was stuck with a sarcastic piece of shit for a kidnapper. Could be worse. "So is it like an alias?" He doesn't say anything, he just turns to his side, avoiding the injured arm. "Well," I say. "I'm Valentina."

"I'm aware." He mumbles. "Now shut the hell up and leave me the fuck alone."

"Why are you such an asshole?" I ask, now fed up with his condescending behavior towards me. He has been nothing but rude all day and yesterday, I have never met someone as irritating as him before. Styles doesn't answer. "At least tell me where you're taking me."

"I am here to protect you from the people that want to hurt you, so that's what I'm doing." He remarks. I didn't doubt my father ever wanting more for me other than safety. As I said, I live out of a suitcase for safety measures. So far, Styles hasn't tried to force himself onto me nor has he sold me off. All I had to do was hope for the best and watch myself around him, I couldn't possibly trust him.

Nothing made sense now, but I had nowhere to run to. Quite honestly, if I had to choose between running off in a place where I don't know anyone and staying with someone that was apparently sent to protect me, I was going to have to take my chances with him.

I just hope it was the right choice.

After a while of watching Tv and Styles taking a nap on the bed next to mine, I fantasized about grabbing the gun he held tightly in his hand while he slept and use it against him. I would be putting myself in a dangerous situation by doing that, considering nobody ever taught me how to use one. My father was so overprotective, he'd ground me if he sensed I touched a gun.

He always said I had no need to use one when he has men to protect me. Learning could've been really useful right about now. I also imagined running out but once again, I had nowhere to run to. Also, the door squeaked when we came in. Not to mention Styles was a light sleeper, judging by the way his eyes would jolt open when I would get up to use the bathroom.

"Hey," I call out to Styles who wakes up almost instantly.

He looks at me and rubs his eyes. "What?"

"It has been two full days now since I ate anything, I'm kind of hungry." If he was going to expect me to be running away every single time, the least he could do was feed me.

Styles mumbles something under his breath before he gets up and goes towards his duffle bag on the floor. I hear him rummage around before he takes out a pair of handcuffs. "What the hell do you think you're doing with those?" I ask, my eyebrows furrowed.

"I can't take you with me," he says and grabs my wrist and basically pulls me towards the headboard despite my nags. "And I don't trust you here alone."

He hooks the handcuff around one wrist and hooks the other one around the headboard so I have no way of getting out. He pulls on my wrists a bit to see it's secured. "This is so humiliating." I mumble. I was wearing the same clothes, I was hungry and now I was handcuffed to the headboard.

To top it off, he rips a strip of that same tape he used to tie me with the first time. "You are such a freak, I am only five foot five I don't need so much restriction."

"I'll be back." He says, putting the tape over my mouth. I watch as he puts his shirt on, grabs his gun and leaves the room. A few seconds later I hear the door lock.

I sigh and lay my head against the headboard.