Cut!

Take 33 - Taken - Part 3

A/N: Please comment as you read. It'll make my day. 

“It’s too late?” I frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Max sighed and unscrewed the cap on the bottle. “You weren’t exactly easy to get to, Ludmilla. We’ve broken some serious laws both here and in the US. That’s why I can’t let you go—either of you. You’re my insurance.”

“You wouldn’t need insurance if you hadn’t been a complete lunatic.”

“True…” He reached a hand up and caressed my cheek. “But I wouldn’t have you either.”

“You don’t have me now, either.”

He didn’t reply. Instead, he held up the bottle to my mouth. I fought hard to avoid the temptation, but I craved the water. My throat was dry, and my saliva was beginning to feel thick inside my mouth.

I opened my mouth without taking my eyes off Max. He tipped the bottle, and the cold liquid filled my mouth. Gulping loudly, I savored the wonderful feeling of the water quenching my thirst. A stream of water dropped down my face, but I didn’t care—it was lovely nevertheless.

“Good girl,” Max said.

Condescending bastard. I jerked away, signaling that I didn’t more. Some of the water splashed on my shirt, and I was glad I wasn’t wearing white. Although, Max didn’t seem to notice, he stared without qualms anyway.

The next part was humiliation. Max fed me soup from the bowl. He grabbed a spoon and led it to my mouth.

“What the fuck are you doing?”

I jerked up, relieved to see Harry awake. His eyes were dark and if looks could kill, Max would have been gone already.

“I’m keeping your girlfriend alive,” Max said. “Although, I doubt she’ll be your girlfriend for long.”

Harry met my eyes. “Are you okay? Did he hurt you?”

Tears welled in my eyes. Here I was, getting food, water, and my wounds bandaged while Harry was battered, bruised and probably starving. And still, he cared about me.

“Of course I didn’t hurt her.” Max scoffed. “I’m not like you.” He placed the bowl back on the tray and rose from the ground. “I don’t want to listen to you, though.”

“What are you doing?” I asked, panicking as he walked over to a small back I hadn’t noticed before.

He reached into it and pulled out a roll of duct-tape. The sound of him ripping off a piece echoed in the room.

“Don’t you fucking dare, you psychotic piece of—“

Harry didn’t get to finish, though. Max placed the duct tape over his mouth, preventing words from coming out. His words were reduced to muffled outburst that didn’t make any sense.

“Now,” Max said. “Wasn’t that better?” He turned to me and crossed the room again. “Finally, we can talk,” he said as he began to stroke my hair.

I kept my eyes on Harry, who had a look of despair in his eyes. I wanted to run to him, to comfort him and then to get the heck out of here. But the bonds were tight around my wrist.

“You said that you’d broken some laws to get to me,” I said. “Did those include murder?”

“Not yet.” Max pulled back. “Why do you ask?”

“Because if you’re not tending to those wounds on Harry, or give him water and food, he might die.” I tried to keep my voice calm.

He glanced at Harry, who was watching us with narrowed eyes. Max scoffed. “Eh. Wouldn’t really bother me.”

“You’re despicable.”

Sighing, he went over to pick the tray up. “If it’ll make you happy, I’ll see if Jamie wants to baby your precious pop star.”

Then he left the room.

I sat in silence, staring at a muted Harry. I couldn’t stop the tears from flowing, and he shook his head, clenching his eyes shut as if it hurt him to see me like this.

“I’m so sorry,” I whispered.

This was entirely my fault, really. If I hadn’t blown off Max back at the hotel, then Harry and I could have been lying in bed right now. I would have counted down the seconds until I got the green light from Steven to tell Harry about my identity.

But now? Now I couldn’t even tell Max in the fear that he’d kill me when he found out I’d deceived him. It wouldn’t matter that I’d fooled the entire fault. Something told me that Max would take it extremely personal.

What had I done?

 A/N: Give this a vote, maybe?