Target (sequel to Undercover)

•35•

•Chloe's point of view•

I am slowly regaining my consciousness from the impact of the guy hurling me into the car. I don't know where I am or where I'm heading to because of the bag over my head, but I've taught myself not to be scared in these kinds of situations. Beca taught me to be strong because being scared or freaking out in these kinds of situations will get you nowhere. My wrists are bind in a worn-out rope, just like my ankles.

,,Why are you doing this?" I ask, my eyes full of tears.

,,It's obvious why you're in this situation right now. Your precious girlfriend is the reason." One guy says to me.

,,What the hell is that supposed to mean?! Beca hasn't done anything wrong. You should go after Mike." I try to stay calm but it's hard.

,,Oh your little girlfriend has definitely done wrong. She crossed Patrick in the wrong way. Hiding Miley Stewart from him for years and now this. She's going to pay and you're a big part of the plan." Two guys start laughing. ,,And now you shut up!" The same guy tells me and I do what he say, afraid what will happen if I don't. I feel physically and mentally trapped and I don't know how I'm going to get out of this situation. Please Beca, find me! 

After what seemed like hours, the SUV finally stops moving. I feel a hand loosen the rope around my ankles, so I can walk. 

,,It's time to go." He tells me while grabbing me and pulling me onto my feet. Another pair of hands grab me and they drag me out of the car. I have no idea where they're taking me because I can't see. They shuffle me around, what smells like a damp abandoned building. I can hear his sinister laugh as he pulls me with him. I can't see a thing because the bag is still over my head, but to say I'm afraid is put lightly. 

,,Please don't do this. Just let me go, please let me go!" I beg the guy who's holding me. I whimper as the pulling becomes rather aggressively. I try to plea with them again. ,,Let me go, please don't hurt me. I -" I'm cut off by an extremely large hand coming in contact with my cheek. It's not really against my cheek, but hard enough that I feel the stinging pain on my cheek through the bag. 

,,Shut up, bitch! Don't you dare to speak." I flinch at the harsh 'D' in 'dare'. I'm spin around and being pushed every few seconds. It's hard to walk along with them this way. They keep pushing me until they stop. The two guys holding me change their position, making me stuck between them. It feels really uncomfortable to stand between two man. I hear a door open and they throw me inside, literally. The side of my face is met with the hard floor and I hear the door getting closed again. Not long after that the bag is finally taken off and I have to adjust my eyes to take everything in. My breathing becomes panicked when I take notice of the room. The walls fade an unpleasant shade of white, shaggy brown carpet with stains scatter about and one bare twin sized mattress on the floor in the far left-hand corner. The same guy who slapped me crouch in front of me and takes off the band that's around my wrist. Now I can move my hands again, relieved. He grabs my wrists and arms tightly, making it hurt. Remembering they told me to shut up, I keep quiet. I'm pushed towards the bed and I let a sob rip from my throat, my chest bounce up and down with each one. I'm forcefully being thrown face down onto the bed now and now he finally release the tight hold he has on my wrists and arms. I don't dare to move once I'm land. ,,Make yourself at home, sweetheart." The guy tells me and starts laughing. ,,By the time your precious girlfriend comes in here, you're already gone. She will never find you." I can see a devilish grin being formed on his face. Then I hear them walk back to the door. The door is slammed shut and the sound of that makes me jump. When I know it's safe, I crawl to the corner of the bed and settle in between where the two walls meet, pulling my knees up to my chest and rest my forehead on them. I close my eyes.