Talk About the Direct Approach...

Chapter Four: Anything but typical

*Macy's POV*

Goodbye cruel word. Goodbye friends, family. Goodbye all those uneaten packs of Ramen Noodles. I had a good run I suppose.

I back away slowly from the seething man standing in the doorway, crying once again. I hate showing weakness, and I especially hate crying, but I couldn't help it. My tears were free spirits and did as they pleased today. My back hit the wall and I knew that was as far away as I could get.

Cayton steps in, his eyes softening slightly when he sees me. Right now, I was admittedly scared. If he has the power—and the temper—to break down a door, I don't stand a fighting chance. There is a bed so close to me, who's to say he wouldn't overpower me and rape me?

Even as these thoughts were bouncing around in my head, part of me was finding it hard to believe he would do something like that. Which is odd, considering the only pieces of information I have about him all scream danger.

He takes one step towards me, and I start screaming. I don't know who the hell is going to help me—considering the only people here helped kidnap me—but it's the only thing I have going for me. My screams can burst an eardrum if I want them to. He clamps his hand over my mouth, only being able to bring my screams down a few notches. They're still pretty loud though, thanks to my iron lungs.

"Macy, calm down. I'm not going to hurt you," Cayton says soothingly. I continue screaming with his hand over my mouth. Could someone at least make sure I wasn't getting murdered up here?

The problem with screaming is that eventually, you have to stop. And sadly, my throat gave out before I was ready.

"You done yet?" he asks once my screams die down. I nod my head weakly and he lets go. He was close, too close for comfort, but yet not close enough. My contradicting feelings make me want to ram my head through a wall, but for now I settle on asking the one question on my mind.

"Why am I here?" I whisper, my voice slightly raspy from the screaming and crying.

"Because, you're mine and-"

"I'm no ones," I hiss. I'm my own. Only I am mine. Confusing, yes. It makes sense if you think about it though. Back to the point, claiming someone is 'yours' is not a legitimate reason to kidnap them. Especially if that person isn't yours.

"Yes, you are," he says firmly. "Now listen, I don't want you to make this harder than you're making it right now. So I'm going to set some ground rules. No one is allowed to touch you but me, no one is allowed to think about you, and no other male is allowed to be alone with you," he orders.

Right, because that's reasonable. 'No one is allowed to think about you'. I totally have control over that. But more importantly, who does he think he is, as if I would want anyone to touch me or be alone with me? What makes him so special anyways, that he gets to be the exception to his creepy rules? Soon my tears become ones of anger.

"I don't know who you think you are or what your problem is, but I'm not going to let you try and boss me around. Now let me go before I... I..." I stumble to find a good enough threat.

"You what?" he says smugly. I glare at him before a tiny idea pops into my head.

Smiling sweet and innocently, I put my hands on his chest, running them up to his shoulders, smirking when he shivers at my touch. I lean in slightly, letting my eyes close halfway.

"I think I'll do... this." In one swift motion, my knee comes into painful contact with his crotch. He falls to his knees, clutching his region, taking in a sharp breath as the pain registers.

Works every time.

Lesson one in self defense: always use their weakness. Just like mama taught me.

I don't waste a second longer admiring my work. I run into the connected bathroom and lock the door. But, if experience has taught me anything, he might try to break it down again, so I need to get out fast.