♡Sweetheart♡ ||Brendon Urie x Reader||

Chapter 27

Yeah so half the time I was either extremely stressed or cranking out the final chapters of this book so I can have them finished already :)

I became very conscious of my breathing in that moment. My hips ached. My fingers stung. I couldn't tell up from down, but I knew that Brendon was still holding onto me.

"You," I heard Dallon roar to Lily, "are going to get a handful of shit when the higher ups hear about this."

I wrapped my arms around Brendon for comfort.

"For now, though, I think you'll find it in your best interest to not fuck anything up and help me. We just need that girl and we will be done for tonight."

Lily nodded. She tried her best to look confident, but her bottom lip was trembling. She knew she was going to be in a load of trouble, and that itself was an understatement.

Before I could fully recover from the stinging sensation in my hips, my legs collapsed from underneath me and I was grabbed by my waist and hoisted over Dallon's shoulder.

"Let me go!" I screamed. "I didn't do anything, just let me go."

I began to thrash violently against him, hoping that I would weaken his arms enough to slide out of his grip. The only thing I ended up succeeding in was pissing him off. He shoved a wad of tule from my dress in my mouth. My screams became muffled. I didn't understand why I was being taken. I needed some help, and Lu was hurt and Brendon. . . Well, Brendon wasn't doing anything and I didn't know why.

In the next moment, I felt a harsh pain, almost like being burnt, affixed into my chest. I yelped, but my cries were dimmed by my sudden dizziness and uncontrollable movement of my body.

Dallon dropped me soon after. The last thing I could recall before being knocked out cold was the burn of being dragged and the headache of voices yelling back and forth.

It had been unpleasant for me to wake up for the past few months. Sometimes I had been throwing up. Sometimes I had a migraine. Sometimes I was too tired to move. But nothing was worse than waking up in the trunk of a moving vehicle with my hands tied behind my back, my mouth gagged with the fabric of my own dress, and the perplexing realization of the dystopian society I lived in, which I before thought was normal as any other.

I didn't know where my father was. I didn't know where my friends were. I didn't know where Brendon was. And worst of all, I didn't know where I was.

I wanted to cry. If I was in a good situation I wouldn't have been tied up. Dallon and Lily must have somehow grabbed me after I passed out and made a break for it. My boyfriend most likely didn't even have the chance to save me.

Boyfriend?

Since when had I called Brendon my boyfriend?

And then it hit me. I searched desperately for a mirror. I could barely move, and there were no windows to see my reflection in, but if I guessed correctly. . . I would have another red dot on my chest.

He did it, I thought, giddy. He really did it!

If it wasn't for the circumstances, I would be ecstatic to have my memories back.

I didn't know how long I had been in this car. It hadn't stopped for more than a minute. I was thirsty and hungry, but not bored. I had too much to think about. The main subject on my mind, though, was the very man who was responsible for the newfound memories I had received.

I realized, before I lost my memories, how everything was. And things back then were happy. My father, from what I could gather, got a job at Brendon's and we lived in an apartment nearby. I was a girl with a harsh life after my mother died, getting teased and hurt by those I cared about or I considered my friends. But one thing was always consistent in those times: Brendon, whom I had met at a party, always made everything better.

I wondered, briefly, if he was doing okay. I wondered if, even after all he told me, I still loved him.

He was dangerous. If I loved him I would get hurt.

But. . .

My regained memories flashed before me. Him giving me a kiss on the forehead whenever I was upset. Holding my hand wherever we went. Making each other treats and gifts. The way I held him when he was troubled. The way he held me.

I loved him then, and I still love him now.

But I wouldn't get to share that with him if I died here. I needed a way out, I just didn't know how. I was locked in and I could hardly move. I was a fly in a web: as good as dead.

I could feel tears prick at my eyes. I couldn't give up just yet, but I didn't know how to continue. I couldn't do this alone. And if I escaped, there was no guarantee for how much longer I could run without being found.

I almost gave up. Almost.

The van came to a sudden halt. I was flung against the metal side wall, which hurt like absolute hell. From outside I could hear yelling and confused chatter.

A scream. Something, most likely a someone, fell against the car and their body slowly slid off. I trembled.

I could shout for help, but the situation did not seem friendly. I stayed quiet. That didn't last long, though, because the trunk doors began to rattle. Someone was trying to pry them open.

I slid my way away from the door, quivering. Whoever it was did not seem like they were here to help me or anyone.

Light shone through the open doors. I peered over cautiously.

And there was Lexi, blood droplets decorating her cheeks, holding her hand out to me.

Oh boy blood is my favorite decoration