Kidnapped

9

I froze for a whole two seconds before dropping to the floor and wiggling myself under his bed, praying there would be nothing blocking my path. I grunted slightly as the box springs above me brushed against my back and pushed against my butt. The pounding on the door grew louder. Frantically, I heaved myself forwards, successfully hiding myself under the bed as the bed skirt lining the perimeter of the bed falls, leaving only a slight ripple in the fabric as evidence of my escape.

The mattress above me moaned and creaked, then I heard angry, garbled mumbling. Footsteps, then the sound of the door being flung into the wall. "What in the world, no the freaking galaxy, gave you the idea that waking me up at this un-Godly hour would result in you standing here still alive?" Miguel Adams threatened, sleepiness evident in the husk of his voice. 

"The- the girl! The one who made such a fuss earlier! She was caught outside of her room! She must have been trying to escape, she was last seen running down this hallway," the man, voice slightly trembling, explained. Suddenly my breathing seemed impossibly loud and my heart beat thudded against my chest. I was sure that in the silence of the room it was echoing for all to hear. I desperately attempted to slow my fearful breathing.

Silence, then, "She what!"

"She escaped her room-"

"No, I know that  you idiot, it's an expression of disbelief," Miguel said, sleepiness draining from his tone quickly being replaced by alarm. There was a slight shuffle, then the lights flickered on. Oh no, what if they can see me through the bed skirt? I stopped breathing all together.

Someone cleared their throat and said, "What are your orders?"

A sigh, probably Miguel's, sounded through the room. "Lock the doors, she wasn't escaping, just planning one if she found her way here. She'll turn up, just keep men around until she shows herself."

To say I was surprised by Miguel's reasoning was an understatement. I was floored at how accurate and, well, smart he was. Of course, looking back on it now, he has to be smart. He runs an entire gang with multiple underground operations and organized multiple kidnappings without getting caught. I should've have underestimated him.

"Alright, let me put a shirt on and I'll be right there," Miguel said. The door shut. I heard footsteps, a drawer opening and closing, then the lights flicker on. I prayed silently that I wasn't visible through the bed skirt and held my breath.

The soft padding of feet on the floor sent chills through me, even though there was nothing chilling about the action. I was shaking in fear, trembling at the thought of what would happen to me if I were caught.

After the eternity of forever, the lights flicked off and the sound of footsteps disappear as the the shuts with a small click.

Almost immediately, I inhaled deeply to make up for the air my lungs were desperately begging me for. What should I do? If I leave now, the men roaming the halls will surely find me. If I waited until morning, I'd be easy to spot with all the lights. This is it, this is how I die. They'll never find me until my corpse starts rotting under Adams' bed. 

Or I can just wait until tomorrow night. The men's guard will be down, if they don't find me throughout the day they'll just assume I escaped. I'll sneak back into my room and act like nothing even happened, or better yet, grab some of the girls and make my grand escape.

And so the wait begins. 

..............................................................

I had fallen asleep under his bed, not once, not twice, but three times and had no idea what time it was.