Jenna waves goodbye to me and I get out of the salon as quickly as possible. I need to go somewhere else. Where could I go? I don’t want him to find me!
Walking down the road, I check over my shoulder numerous times and make my way to the bus stop. I don’t see anything, but a hand grabs my sweater and yanks me to the side.
I was sure that nobody was following me. I fall forward, my face clashing with a black suit jacket. Slowly, I look up into his eyes.
“I knew that would work.” Caponde smirks at me, and I try to shrug the sweater off my shoulders, searching for a way to escape him. Panic sets in motion, twisting my thoughts into action.
Wrapping his thick, muscular arms around my waist, he picks me up, and I try to wriggle out of them. Grabbing my throat, he spins us both around and slams me against the wall hard. A whine escapes my throat from the blow.
“Stop fucking fighting me. You won’t win. Give up!” he shouts in my face. A couple of men stand behind him with their arms crossed over their chests, laughing at me.
I swallow the sticky saliva in my throat and look up at Caponde through sad, tired, and helpless eyes.
“Please don’t hurt me. I haven’t done anything to you. Please.” Pointing in my face, he prods my cheek and I flinch.
“Do as you’re fucking told then, and we won’t have a problem.” Nodding my head quickly over and over again, I turn to face away from him.
“Are you going to behave or am I going to have to force you to be a good girl?” he asks me, his forehead touching mine. He’s in my personal space and I don’t like it.
Nodding my head, I try to move away from him but I can’t.
“Yes, I’m going to behave,” I scream and he grins at me.
“You sure about that, sweet?”
“Yes, I’m sure,” I shout. He has a sinister smirk on his face. I don’t like that at all. These men are creepy. What’s their obsession with me? Why won’t Caponde let me live my life?
“Nah, I don’t believe you. You’ll try to run the second you’re left alone. Then I will have to fucking kill you!” he shouts through gritted teeth.
I shake my head and he laughs, pressing his head against mine. His head wasn’t hurting mine before but it is now. My eyes water.
Forcing my head back again by stepping away from me and dragging my hair down with a firm grip, he breathes in my scent as the tears slide down my cheeks.
“I promise that I won’t. Just don’t hurt me.” My breathing is erratic and my legs are shaking like there’s an earthquake.
“I can’t promise you that. You be good and I’ll treat you with respect. Just so you know, you won’t be seeing your family again.”
Picking me up, he throws me over his shoulder, and I scream, kicking, shouting, and shaking my head. Bashing my hands on his back, I cry, knowing that I won’t be seeing my family again.
“Let me go! Please. I didn’t mean to go in the bag.” He doesn’t listen. None of them do. I scream at the top of my lungs, try to knee him in the face, and cry my way out of it.
Throwing me in the back of an empty black van, Caponde and his men slam the doors, leaving me in the pitch black on my own.
Pushing myself to my feet, I run over to the door and whack my hands against the metal. Searching around for a door handle, I find one and pull it. They have disconnected it!
Sliding down the door, I sit down and pull my knees against my chest, sobbing. Caponde is a venomous bastard! If he doesn’t kill me then I will make that my life’s mission. I hate his guts.
I lose my sense of direction after five minutes. I had confidently figured out my location in reference to the nearest field, but from there I didn’t know the roads.
I no longer know where we are as I sit on the floor in what I call a daze of emotionless survival.
Moving to the corner of the van with my knees up against my chest crying, I try to read my own future. It looks rather bleak from where I’m sitting.
What am I going to do? How will I get out of this? I may as well be dead. He made my life a living hell when I was with him previously and I can’t imagine what he’s capable of now.
I wouldn’t mind, but this man scares the living daylights out of me.
I lose track of the time. Hours could have passed by the time the van comes to a stop.
I wait for the doors to open, begging for them to forget about me, but they don’t. Those doors open minutes later and I’m dragged out by another man. He doesn’t say a word to me.
I see a yellow floor lit up by outside lights, and then a blindfold is placed over my eyes.
It’s dark outside now, so that’s how long I’ve been in the van for. I go to remove the blindfold when my arms are grabbed, shoved up my back, and cuffs are snapped on each wrist.
Grabbing my legs, somebody cuffs them together, which means that I no longer have a chance to escape. I feel ropes get wrapped around my legs and my hands.
I cannot move anyway because I get thrown over the man’s shoulder. Panic finally settles in, so does grief. I’m experiencing the full effects of it. I’ve lost my life! He’s ripped it from me.
The man places me down on something soft, and I close my eyes, allowing my tears to fall. I don’t know where I am, and the thoughts of Caponde hurting me again makes my heart hurt.
How can I possibly feel when I’ve literally been dragged through hell?
Dragging the blindfold off my head, he laughs and my tears tickle down my cheeks. I open my eyes and my chest aches. I’m with that man! I try to kick my legs. It’s the other devil! He will actually kill me.
This man is not a Dominant, he’s a fucking psycho. I search around the room for Caponde, but he’s nowhere to be seen.
Snapping his fingers, the man stands next to me and I look into his ocean blue eyes. I don’t know where this man had Caponde bring me, but I’m inside dull, plain as fuck, dark, cold room.
Looking down at me, he talks into a headset, and I blink up at him. Smirking at me, he walks over to a cabinet and takes out a bottle of something. I lie on the sofa not moving.
I’m worried about what his intentions are, whether I will ever see anybody again, and how my life will look from now going forward.
My wrists are twisted up my back underneath me, my feet feel cold, and I need to pee really badly. As I look down, freedom evaporates into thin air. Ropes twist from my feet all the way up to my thighs.
“Why do you want me?” I ask him between my sobs. He snaps his head around to face me and walks over to stand next to the sofa.
Crouching down, he grabs my face and turns it from side to side, not saying a word. The silence is deafening! Closing my eyes, I breathe in deeply.
Moving his hand, he covers my face completely with the palm of his hand. What is this? A form of control possibly? Caponde used to do this to me and now this creep is doing it too.
“No questions. All you need to know is that you’re mine. My little girl. Now be a good diamond and lie there quietly.” Letting my face go, he walks over to the side and pours himself a drink.
Turning around, he leans up against the wall and sips his drink watching me intently. I stare up at the ceiling trying not to make eye contact with him. He makes me feel uncomfortable.
“How old are you?” he asks me, and I don’t say a word.
“Start fucking talking,” he yells, which startles me. I turn my head and find him glaring at me with his head partially down. His eyes stare deep into my soul and I shiver.
“Twenty.” I tell him quickly and he gives me a swift nod. Nothing more, nothing less.
