Careless

"This... Is a Rescue Mission."

~ Charlie's POV ~

/FLASHBACK/

I was waiting outside my school for Barley to show up. I was standing next to my car, drinking from a bottle of water I had packed.

A black sedan pulled up next to me. Funny, I thought Barley had an old ute. Actually, I'm pretty sure Barley had an old ute.

The driver of the Sedan hopped out of the car and walked towards me. Whoever it was was tall, stout and had a black ski mask over his eyes. I could see stubble on his chin.

As the mystery man came closer, I could see a cigarette in his hand. I stood still, not moving because I was focusing on his appearance. I have definitely seen this person before. But where?

As the person came closer, I could smell something that reeked. It smelt like old fish mixed with smelly socks.

The man was only a few feet away from me now. He stopped, dropped the cigarette to the cement and ground it into the pavement. Then he looked up at me. I didn't say anything, just kept still.

I saw another figure coming up behind this one. He, too, had a ski mask over his eyes, but this person was skinnier and a heck of a lot younger. He came up to me as well and stood beside the other man.

"Charlotte," the second man said. "You'll have to come with me."

"Who are you?" I asked.

"That shouldn't matter to you." the second man said, his voice kept in a monotone. "Please, hand over your keys and hop into our car." He pointed towards the Sedan.

"Why?" I asked, trying to stay calm. The first man made an aggravated sound, but said nothing.

"That shouldn't matter to you either," the second man said.

I felt a massive sting in the side of my head as my whole world fell sideways before going black.

*******************************

I stared into the drunken eyes of my father. The man I once loved, the man I thought was dead. This made no sense. Nothing seemed to make sense anymore.

I was tied to a chair, my arms and legs bound and my mouth gagged. My father was pacing in front of me, his phone in his hand. I had rung Barley a week ago, and my father was still holding a grudge.

Apparently breaking into his room was a serious crime. So is kidnapping, Dad.

"So," my dad said, venom filled his words. Or, word. "How's Barley?"

I tried to talk but it only ended in me gagging. I could barely breathe with this thing on.

"How about we take this off?" he asked me.

I nodded quickly and my dad ripped the gag from around my throat. I tried to bite his hand but failed.

"So?" Father dearest asked.

"So what?" I asked hoarsely.

"How's Barley." he repeated. "I mean, the two of you seem to be in contact with each other. So, how is he?"

"You seem to be repeating yourself." I say bitterly.

My dad grabbed my throat and squeezed. I felt as though all the air that was in my body was drawn into his hand and I had nothing left but a pair of empty lungs. I tried to breathe in but failed.

"Don't give me cheek." The man breathed. I refused to call him my dad.

He let go of my throat and I sucked in a deep breath. I breathed heavily until I had recovered to the best of my ability.