Who Do You Love - Dean Ambrose

Chapter 25: Won't Change My Mind

Over the twenty four hours that followed I tried everything I could possibly think of to escape. I pulled at the bars on each and every window, I debated somehow tying the bedsheets into a rope, I tried to pick the lock like Dean would have told me and I even took the back of the television off, hoping to see a pickaxe or a spare key or – I don't know – literally anything that would help.

There was nothing.

The room was utterly barren, but then, of course it was.

That had always been their plan.

In between trying to MacGyver my way out of there I spent many long hours pressed up against the door, crying and yelling and pleading for my freedom to – potentially – no one or else anyone that might hear.

Kane came in three times over that first day, each time bringing me food I didn't eat. They were nicely cooked dishes and way too good for his hands so I assumed that wherever I was had a chef. Just like Stephanie and Hunter to have catering for their super-secret hostage house.

My family was mad.

I didn't eat the food on principle, not on hunger because in real terms my stomach was tearing itself apart. But each and every plateful seemed tainted with danger and I simply didn't trust they wouldn't drug me again.

At one point I even tried to throw the food at him but he managed to duck and I just made a mess. On the plus side though it gave me something to do at last and I spent at least an hour trying to clean it back up.

Ugh.

I was going so crazy that even cleaning was welcome and of course – throughout it all – my mind was on Dean.

Dean.

Just the sound of his name made me tear up and at the same time sent an icy stab right through my gut. What was he doing? Was he trying to find me? How far away was he? Had he figured it out? Regardless of the total uncertainty of everything, that was the one thing I had total faith in.

Dean was coming and he was going to get me.

He always saved me.

I had no doubts.

Although – with that said – as things trickled into the second day, flickers of something did start to creep in. After all, I had implied that I needed to consider things. What if Dean believed I'd simply made my choice? What if he believed this was my way of leaving? But he wouldn't really think that.

He knew me better than that, right?

He knew how much I loved our life together – because that was another thing, I really missed my dog – he knew how much I needed him around me, he knew I needed him in order to be myself.

No –

I decided as the skies began to darken and draw in another long and very lonely night, one that would probably be spent like the first one in a hopeless crying mess on the verge of throwing up.

No.

Dean was definitely coming to get me and until he did I would just have to wait it out. He would be proud of me for holding myself together and I wanted to still be standing when the cavalry showed up. It was probably why I got so excited each and every time the door lock clicked, expecting Dean's beautifully worried expression and those bright blue eyes honing in across the room. If I ever needed proof that I believed he'd come and rescue me then it was surely the hopefulness whenever someone stepped in.