His Secret Desire (16 page)

“You’re going to shut up and be good. If you try to scream, we’re going to kill you,” a voice said.

I was going to die.

Chapter Sixteen

I struggled to breathe. The bag around my head, while cloth, was oppressive and grew smaller with every breath I took. The inside of the bag was a thousand degrees and tears fell from my eyes in hot wet streams. I shook my head to try to loosen the bag and I felt a hand grip around my head, stopping my movements. A knife of fear struck at my heart and I stopped moving completely.

My hands were tied behind my back with rough textured rope that rubbed my skin raw with even the smallest movement. The rope was so tight that my hands began to grow numb, but I said nothing in protest. I was too scared.

Men sat to my left and right. I could feel their shoulders pressed against mine, and I wanted so badly to recoil from their touch but there was simply nowhere to go; I was blindfolded and tied up. We were going somewhere, and aside from my terror, the atmosphere in the SUV was calm and quiet. No one spoke or made any sort of noise.

My arms hurt badly from my hands being tied up, despite my hands being completely numb now. My wrists burned like they were on fire. I thought about protesting my hands again and then realized that if I did so they might gag me. With how hot the bag was already and how hard it was to breathe, if I were gagged I might choke to death before we arrived at wherever we were going.

Did they want to kill me? I tried to consider it, but my mind was racing too quickly. I had to calm myself down, and quickly. I closed my eyes, despite the fact that they were already in total darkness, and started to count my breaths. I reached two hundred before my breath slowed and my heartbeat seemed less on the verge of causing a fatal rupture in my chest.

No, they didn’t want to kill me. If they had wanted to kill me, at least immediately, I would be sitting in the car with a bullet in my head or my throat slit. I shuddered at the image and the vision of Gary falling to the ground filled my mind. I prayed that he was alive.

I was being captured for a reason, and it was surely not just to kill me. I had to keep quiet, play this as cool as I possibly could. They might kill me later, but for now I was alive and I planned to stay that way.

I was going to be used as a bargaining tool. They would trade my life for something. The whole of Strauss Engines? That was impossible, I told myself. Strauss Engines had shareholders and investors, you couldn’t just sign it away in exchange for the life of one young woman. There was something that they felt Alex might trade for my life, but I couldn’t think of what it was. I only hoped that Alex was willing to trade it for me. I valued my life much more than whatever these bastards wanted.

I placed my faith in Alexander Strauss entirely that he would save me from this predicament. I had trusted him this far, now there was no turning back. My life was in his hands.

The car ride lasted for at least two hours, maybe three. Blindfolded and without reference, I could only assume how long we had been driving. After a while, I managed to let my thoughts dissipate and I accepted my situation. There was nothing I could do except to accept it.

The SUV stopped. I could hear doors opening all around me and the two men on each side of me disappeared. I froze, unwilling to move. Despite having calmed myself down earlier, I felt a whole new wave of panic the size of a tsunami. Maybe they had taken me out to a field somewhere to put a bullet in me and leave me in an unmarked grave. I fought back tears and steadied myself.

I thought of Alex from the previous night. I wanted badly to be wrapped in his arms just one more time, to bury my face in his neck and breathe in the scent of his skin. His arms wrapped around me, our embrace unbroken. I resolved that I would see him again and I would get my wish. I felt myself harden inside and the fear lessened. Anger at being taken and held against my will replaced it.

“Alright, you’ve got two options,” a voice said. It sounded flat, almost electronic. “You can walk with us and make this easy, or we can drag you. I can tell you it won’t be a gentle dragging either.”

I said nothing.

“Have it your way. Oh, and if you try to scream, we’re going to have to hit you, maybe even knock you out. And no one will hear you anyway so you might as well save your breath. You’re in the middle of nowhere, sweetie.”

I remained still and silent. A pair of hands grabbed me by my shoulders and tore me from my seat with surprising strength. I tried to resist in vain and the man dragging me out of the car threw me to the ground. I landed on my shoulder and the pain shot through me like electricity. I made no sound as I gritted my teeth. Two men grabbed me underneath each arm and dragged me like a rag-doll through the dirt. I realized then that I wasn’t wearing any shoes. I wondered when I had lost them but my memory was completely void of anything involving losing my shoes.

I let my body go limp and soon enough I felt myself being dragged against concrete. We were inside some sort of building. I could hear doors opening and closing. I tried to count how many but it was too hard to differentiate the sounds. Finally, we stopped. Wherever our destination had been, we were there now.

The pair of men lifted me off my feet and threw me across a room. The floor slammed into my outer thigh and fresh, white pain shot through my entire leg. My hands were behind my back, still tied, when they were grabbed and pulled up. I pushed back, trying to strike anything I could. I could hear a man let out a small chuckle, mocking my attempt to combat him. Rage filled my blood and every muscle screamed out at me to strike. I kicked my legs out and I connected with something hard, and realized it was the man’s shin.

He let out an angry grunt and I felt myself being turned around so quickly that my legs gave out. I was hanging by my hands, and the pain in my wrists exploded as the ropes tightened against my bodyweight. I could hear a man behind me and I realized that I was behind held up from behind. I wiggled and writhed against the pain in my arms when I felt something smash into my stomach with the force of a mallet. All the wind exploded out of my lungs and I cried out breathlessly.

I gasped for air that wouldn’t come. The pain in my arms lessened slightly as the panic of choking filled me. I opened my mouth again and again to try to suck in the hot air in the bag that was still over my head. I felt dizzy. I found my footing but it was weak and I badly wanted to tumble onto the ground and curl up into a fetal position.

“Stupid bitch,” a man’s voice said angrily. “Fucking hit me again and you’ll lose teeth, got it?”

I felt hands crawl over me, searching me. They patted my legs and slowed around my ass. They gripped my ass cheeks and squeezed, lingering for longer than was necessary to realize that I was hiding nothing there. They moved around my inner thighs and thankfully moved up quickly without violating me. I felt them pat underneath my armpits and my lower back before they moved over my breasts. Then I felt them squeeze my nipples, hard.

I raised a knee to try to strike the bastard groping me. It connected with air and I felt a hand slap across my face just as I was starting to regain my breath. Stars exploded over my vision.

“Nice try,” the man said.

Hands tore my clothes off without any shred of worry for how it hurt when they tore against my skin. I stifled any cries of protest at being robbed of my clothes. I was positive they were going to rape me, but after I was completely naked no hands touched my skin. I felt a knife slide in between my hands and cut the rope. I rubbed my hands together, the rush of blood bringing a million tiny needle pricks with it. I heard a door close and I was alone.

I tore off the blindfold and gasped in fresh, cool air. I saw nothing but stars as my eyes adjusted to the light and I covered myself as best as I could with my arms, not knowing if anyone was watching me, but sure that someone must have been.

When my vision cleared, I saw that I was in a small room that was furnished to look like a little apartment. A cot was pushed against the corner, and on top of it I saw a stack of clothes. I immediately rushed over to it and put on the plain white shirt that was on top. Then I slipped on the grey sweatpants that looked as though they had been bought that day, although all the tags were cut off. I put on the black sweatshirt, even though I wasn’t cold, to give myself another layer so nobody would be able to see my nipples that poked through my shirt against my wishes. I laced up a plain pair of sneakers and sat on the cot, rubbing my sore stomach.

I looked around the room. One of the walls was a big mirror that reflected the rest of the room, giving it the illusion that it was much larger than it really was. I was sure that this was a two way mirror and I was glad that I had chosen to cover myself as quickly as possible. I stood up from the cot, my legs feeling like they had returned to their previous strength, and began to scan the mirror with my fingers. I fought back the impulse to punch it as hard as I could. There was no sense in breaking my hand.

I turned away from the mirror and saw that a desk was pushed against another wall. I walked over to it and saw that a large bowl of noodle soup sat on top. I touched the side of the bowl with my hand. Ice cold. A two-gallon jug of water was placed next to it with an empty glass cup next to it. I poured myself some water and drank it greedily. It wouldn’t be poisoned. Why go to all of the trouble of bringing me here, searching me and stripping me, and then poisoning me?

I drank two more glasses of water. I wasn’t hungry yet, but I knew I would need my strength, so I was glad for the noodles awaiting me later. My gratitude immediately riled up more anger in me. To think that I was grateful that my captors were kind enough to leave me a shitty bowl of cold noodles. I fought the impulse to throw the bowl against the two-way mirror. I had to be smart right now, wasting my only source of food would be anything but smart.

Also on the desk was a television remote. I picked it up carefully and turned it over in my hands, studying it. I looked around the room quickly and noticed that a television was hung in the top corner of the room. Safety glass encased it. I pointed the remote at it and pressed the power button. The screen came to life on a news channel.

I looked around suspiciously. Then the television shut off.

“Samantha,” an electronic voice called out from everywhere.

I jumped visibly and looked around, panicked and ready to fight. I put the television remote down on the desk and looked around, spotting the two speakers in opposite corners of the ceiling, also encased with safety glass.

“We apologize for you being stripped. Consider it a necessary security precaution.”

I faced the two-way glass. “Consider it water under the bridge. I completely understand,” I said sarcastically, the anger in my voice rising with every word.

“You will be given three meals a day and as much water as you need. If you behave, we’ll give you tea or coffee once a day.”

“How long do you plan on keeping me here?” I asked defiantly.

Silence greeted my question. I looked back to the desk and saw that a metal chair was tucked in neatly underneath it. I eyed it with great interest.

“Answer me!” I demanded.

Once again, I was greeted with silence. I walked over to the desk and grabbed the chair, lifting it up.

“NOW!” I screamed, enraged.

“Put the chair down, Samantha. You’re only going to hurt yourself. The glass is bullet-proof safety glass, military grade. You’d need a howitzer to do any real damage to it,” the electronic voice said. I could hear a note of amused humor in it.

I saw red. I always thought that “seeing red” was an expression, but in that moment, the whole room was coated in a shade of red and I could feel my brain boiling with a rage that I had never previously experienced. I had been captured. I had been groped. I had been stripped of my clothes. I was in this prison cell and now I was being mocked. I had reached my breaking point.

I threw the chair at the mirror. It bounced off and struck the cot. I picked it up and with all my might I smashed it into the glass, driving my entire body into it. It vibrated violently in my hands as it bounced off and pain shot through my arms and shoulders. The chair flew back and I let it go, falling back from the recoil of my own strike.

I sat on the ground, fuming in rage. Tears of anger flowed down my face and I wiped them off defiantly. I raised myself up and turned back to the glass. There was a large scuff mark when I had struck it with the chair and I noticed a hairline crack. Breathing heavy with exhaustion, I let out a cry of triumph at my small victory over the glass that the voice had claimed was unbreakable.

“Strike at the glass again and there will be consequences, as well as reduced rations.” The voice was without humor now. I heard a click and the television turned back on.

I picked up the chair and placed it on its legs. It wobbled slightly as one leg was slightly bent now. I sat down and rocked it back and forth, reveling in the imbalance of it due to my strike. It was a meaningless act of defiance, but it had felt good in the moment. The victory was short-lived however. I looked around. I was still imprisoned.

I drank the cold soup and slurped noodles, my hunger returning to me. I drank another glass of water and ate the last of the tasteless noodles. I figured there would probably be no tea or coffee for me today. I couldn’t help but smile.

I studied the room. Despite my fervent belief that the door would be locked, I tried it anyway. The handle did not so much as budge a centimeter when I tried it. I walked around the small room and studied the cot. I ran my hands over the safety glass over the television, standing on the chair to reach it. I looked at the two speakers closely and soon lost interest.

There was a small bathroom in the corner, but without any kind of walls or privacy barrier from the two-way mirror. There was a small toilet, a sink, and a shower head poking out of the wall. In front of the shower head on the ground was a small drain. I laughed at the thought of showering here, giving the kidnappers a nice show. I’d rather stink so bad that I couldn’t even handle the smell before I would strip willingly in front of these men again.