Fallen For My Kidnapper (COMPLETED)

Chapter 3 - Burned To A Crisp

The door hit the wall hard as it was pushed open. I lifted my head from between my knees as two men walked towards me. Each one grabbed one of my arms roughly as they dragged me up and out of my 'room', barely giving me the time to get my feet under me. 

They dragged me up a flight of stairs, even as I jerked from side to side though it didn't seem to do much to their muscular arms. They smelled of a disgusting amount of cologne. It was enough to make my eyes water. That or the pain in my side as they pulled on my arms without care. 

"Is being a gym rat a fucking qualifier?" I squirmed around more, trying vainly to get out of their grasp as I muttered it, not expecting an answer.

"It certainly does help," it was the same voice that had spoken to me the night before. I looked up to see him sitting on a nice couch, his arms relaxed across the back as he regarded me with amusement. The men threw me on my knees at his feet. I went to get up only to feel cold steel sticking into the back of my head, wincing slightly at its hard surface already making a dent in the back of my head. 

"You run, they get some shooting practice." I glared up at him, watching the amusement dance behind his light brown eyes as I did nothing. I drew my head up a little, pushing into the gun as I took more of him in. He was clad in a steel grey, two button suit and dress shoes. His black hair was decorated with silver and lead into a five o' clock shadow. 

"If you think this is the worst thing I've been through, you'd be wrong," I spat at him. I don't know where the courage came from. All I knew was that whoever this man was, there wasn't one part of me that was going to give into him. He smiled down at me, putting a hand under my chin as I jerked my head to the side. 

"Now, I don't know what you're talking about, but I am sure that while you're squirming under me, I'll find out." My breath hitched in my throat, fear sticking itself firmly in my heart as I waited for him to do something else, but he just walked away, leaving me alone in the room with the two guards. 

I sat back a little further onto my feet, ignoring the gun in the back of my head as I tried to look around the room. Beyond the couch in front of me there was a bar, no body sitting there or serving drinks. To the right of the bar there was a door, but I was ever mindful of the two men behind me. 

There was nothing for me to do but sit here and wait.

It was hours later when he returned, a towel in his hand as he wiped off something red before setting the towel down on the table. My eyes lingered on it as he sat back down in front of me. I had been terrified to move a muscle and still sat in the same position on my knees as I did before.

He didn't say anything, instead just taking the time to look at me. I could only imagine what I looked like. Sweat seemed to be everywhere, even in the cold of the cell last night. I was covered in dirt from the car crash, and scratched covered my legs and arms where I had fallen on the pavement before passing out. Every moment that he spent looking at me was a moment my stomach was slowly turning to slush.

"Are you done pretending to be some big bossman and tell me why the fuck I'm here?" It took everything in me to act like I had any hope left in me that it wouldn't my blood he would wiping off with a paper towel next, but I couldn't help the shaking of my tired body. 

He smiled, sitting down and giving a small chuckle before leaning forward, "I know you don't understand this right now, but you are worth nothing to me. I give more attention to my pinkie toe-"

"Now lying is not a great trait in a man," I interrupted. Anger flashed behind his eyes as I continued, "You tell me that I mean nothing, that I am not important to you. Tell me then why you went through the trouble of taking me then."

He leaned forward, only his ass on the couch as he got into my face. I stared him straight in the eye as he whispered menacingly in my face, the smell of mint toothpaste washing over me, "You think right now that you are being funny, that you are being brave, but I own you now. After this little conversation, you are going to be sold to the highest bidder, and I won't care of their kink is necrophilia."

I could feel the sensation of fear in my face, the tingling that warned me that I was about to cry, but I was not going to show him that. He planned to sell me? At the age of seventeen I was going to be just another pawn in a sex trafficking ring, and all I could do was make sarcastic comments to ensure it. 

N/A  hello again! I hope everyone is having a great day :)

How are we thinking the plot is coming along? Do we think that this man even has a reason to have taken Roseilin? What do you think it is?

Thank you again for reading my book, and if there is anything that you think would make this book better I am all ears. This is for you, and only when you are enjoying the book does it begin to be satisfying for me, so let me know! Thank you for everything and happy reading!