*not edited*

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Rose x

|5.|

The first thing I saw when I finally opened my eyes was...black.

Holy fucking shit.

I'm blind.

I've heard of stories in the news where people have a blunt force trauma to their head and then the next thing they know, they're blind.

That must be what happened to me.

Oh God! I'm blind...

No I can't be blind. What about my job?

Panic ensues, my chest tightens and I almost pass out once again from hyperventilating but then I feel the weirdly soft texture of the surface I was lying on and then I focus on the slight rumble of what sounded like- an engine?

When I try to move, I realise that all my movements are constricted. My arms are bent behind my back at an awkward angle, my legs are twisted, my whole body seems to be scrunched up.

Then everything just clicks and realisation dawns on me as if a bucket of ice cold water had been thrown over me...I've been kidnapped.

I twist and turn as much as my confinement allowed and I tried to pause my overactive mind in order to think clearly.

Ok Kes, just calm the fuck down.

I had very limited information but three things were clear as day.

I've been kidnapped

My kidnapper is most definitely the person who was holding Aaron (my fake fiancè and liar extraordinaire) at gunpoint, the same man who I had knocked out with a frying pan, who then also knocked me out with the same said frying pan.

I was in the boot of a car

The last one was an educated guess. I could hear the rumble of the engine and I could feel the movement of the vehicle. My kidnapper must have tied me up and stuffed me in the back of his car.

Brilliant! Honestly, just when I thought this day couldn't possibly get any worse.

But along with that thrilling prospect of being kidnapped and held hostage in the back of a car, came the thought that maybe, just maybe I wasn't actually blind. Desperate to know whether I had actually become handicapped from a frying pan, I started rubbing my face against the surface of the car boot and just as I had hoped for, my blindfold dislodged. It was still pitch black but I could start to see the shadowy outline of my surroundings.

Oh thank god! I'm not blind!

The blindfold was still mostly in place, covering practically most of my eyes but it had moved just enough to let me see that my legs were tied together. Just as I had imagined, I was in the boot of a car and my arms were bound awkwardly and painfully behind me.

Now that I had confirmed my position, there was only one thing left to do.

Which was- GET THE FUCK OUT OF HERE!

When I turned sixteen and I had told my parents that my dream was to study in New York, they were fully supportive. Academically I was excellent but when I asked my high school careers adviser, Janet, she had not so kindly explained to me that to get into the top colleges, academic excellence wasn't the only requirement. I needed to be more active, perhaps take on some more extra curricular activities or join some clubs and societies.

I was thinking more chess club but my dad- he signed me up for Karate.

He said girls my age needed to know how to defend themselves from danger. I don't really know what danger he was thinking of, but I can guarantee that he never thought I would be locked in the boot of a stranger's car.

Sixteen year old crime-documentaries-and-self defense obsessed me also didn't realize that all the hours I spent watching Youtube videos on how to escape a kidnapping would come in handy either. I don't know why I spent my nights obsessing over how to escape from kidnappers but never in my life have I ever been more grateful to my teenage self.

Hey, don't blame me. I was a strange kid.

I still remember one Youtube video I had watched: How to escape from a locked car boot.

I know... what a fucking coincidence.

There was two ways to do this:

Since 2001, every manufactured car has a safety lever which enables the trunk of the car to open from the inside.

I peeked from underneath my blindfold, squinting hard to try and find the safety feature. It wasn't too difficult because even with my restricted vision and the pitch blackness of the boot, I found the lever easily since it was glowing a neon yellow.

The only problem was that I couldn't reach the fucking thing with my hands bound behind my back.

For fucks sake!

I tried. God- I tried so hard. I twisted and turned as much as I could in the tight space. I even tried headbutting it in hopes it would somehow trigger the lever and the boot would fly open.

But nothing.

Apart from worsening my already throbbing headache I was still no closer to escape.

Resting my head back on the fake floor of the boot, I sighed. My energy was draining and my whole body ached painfully.

There was still one more thing I could do. However, it was more dangerous and in all honesty there was a very low chance of me escaping.

The second step that I remember from the Youtube video was:

Every car has a button or lever in the boot which allows the back seats of the car to fold back.

If I could find that button, then the seats would fold back and I can roll myself in and maybe reach for the doors, or at least shock my kidnapper into crashing the car.

I know- reckless. But it was my only option. The first step to remember in any kidnapping, another point from that life saving Youtube video, (if I ever got out of this alive, I was definitely going to subscribe to that account) was that you need to try and escape before you get taken to the first stop. My chances of survival would diminish completely once my kidnapper manages to take me where he wants.

So if crashing the car was my only option in escaping, it would be a risk worth taking.

I rolled around some more, trying to feel around in the small and tight space for anything that resembled a button. Something cold and plastic pressed against my face and immediately I realised I had found what I was looking for.

I take a deep breath and send a quick prayer to God.

I swear God, I promise, if I get out of here alive, I will go to church on Sundays. I will confess all my sins, I will be more humble, I will even start giving money to charity. Just please let me save myself!

Then I pressed hard on the button with my chin.

At first nothing happened and then I felt a quick force of wind and as the back seats folded in on themselves, I was blinded by the light that flooded into my vision.

"What the f-"

Before my kidnapper could even finish his sentence I rolled myself awkwardly over the folded seats and started kicking at the car doors. My legs slammed against the window as I screamed for help.

The more I struggled the more the blindfold slipped off my face and I could see everything more clearly.

I was right. My kidnapper was the same man who had held Aaron at gunpoint.

"SHUT THE FUCK UP!" He shouted, his eyes narrowed in anger. He reached over and grabbed his gun, holding it to my head. However since he was still driving his attention was split. The gun remained fixed in my direction but he kept glancing back at the road to ensure we didn't get in an accident.

"Let me go you FUCKER!!" I screamed back, dodging quickly when he tried to slam the butt of his gun on my head.

I pushed myself up against the car door, my bound hands searching desperately for the handle.I felt the cold metal and with wide eyes I quickly pulled the door open.

A scream left my mouth as the door flung open and my body fell out. But before my stupidity and recklessness in jumping out of a moving car left me like splattered jam on the tarmac, strong arms grabbed my shirt and pulled me back in quickly.

My heart raced impossibly, my mouth open in shock, my eyes wide.

Holy fucking shit! I had literally been a centimetre away from the ground. In my frantic rush to escape I hadn't realised how fast the car had been going. If I had actually managed to jump out of the car, there was no was on earth I would have survived.

"ARE YOU FUCKING CRAZY! YOU FUCKING BITCH!" A loud voice bellowed, strong arms still tight around my waist, holding me down.

The car door remained open as the car continued to race down the highway. I was still in so much shock that my mouth or brain couldn't work together to fathom a response.

My hands shook like crazy, my whole body tensed as adrenaline pumped through my body.

I- I nearly just died. I could have died.

The car suddenly swerved direction and it shook as we started driving down a rocky side road. Suddenly, the car stopped and my kidnapper let go of my body and jumped out of the car and came to my side.

"Fucking crazy!" He mutters angrily under his breath as he pulls me out of the car, still completely bound and threw me to the ground.

I gasp in pain as my shoulder twists and I land on the sharp stones underneath me.

"Oh shut up!" He scolds, "You just tried to jump out of a car travelling at 100 miles per hour, this is nothing compared to what that would have felt like!"

I don't realise I'm crying until I taste the salt on my lips. I look up at the man towering over me with my tear brimmed eyes,

"Oh my gosh..." I cry. I never cry. I hate crying. I haven't cried since high-school. "I nearly died!" I exclaim, more tears streaking my cheeks.

The man watches my face with no sympathy. Everything about him is cold and expressionless.

"Yes and it wouldn't have been pretty either." He adds not helpfully.

My chest heaves as I keep crying, snot and tears leaking from what seems like every pore in my face.

"Please let me go..." I beg pathetically. "I swear I won't tell anyone. I won't go to the police. I swear, just please let me go."

My voice breaks and my muscles tired of holding my body up, give in. My head falls back and at this point there is no part of my body that doesn't ache in pain. I lie there on the dirty ground, weak and helpless.

The man's cold voice does nothing but make me tense in fear, "We both know I can't do that." He says and I look up at him again.

He was tall. Like super tall, maybe 6ft 7. He would no doubt tower over me if I was standing up, but from my pathetic place on the ground, his height was even more intimidating. He was dressed completely in black from his black jeans to his black t-shirt and leather jacket. He was well built and strong, his biceps stretched out his jacket sleeves and his clearly defined abdomen filled out his shirt. This man definitely worked out and that was obvious.

Are you bloody kidding me Kes? This man kidnapped you. Why the fuck are you admiring his body?

I blinked fast, my tears had now dried and made my face tight.

"I promise," I tell him once again. Hoping to change his mind. I usually prided myself on the fact I was an honest person. When I made promises, I never broke them. But this- this is a completely different situation. This was life or death and unfortunately my morals needed to take a back seat. 

He looks at me with his dark eyes. A thick black eyebrow raises.

"What's your name?" He asks finally.

"Anne, but people call me Annie." I lie quickly. Anne was my middle name, but there was no way I would be telling my kidnapper my real na-

"Liar." He states, his eyes rolling. He was testing me.

What?

"What do you mean?" I ask him, my eyes going wide.

He crosses his big arms across his chest and I can't help but notice how his muscles flex under his clothes.

"Your name is not Anne. It's Kessiya Saju." He states and I gulp. He knew.

"How?" I whisper.

"Your purse. I saw your ID." His explanation is short and abrupt. There's no emotion on his face but I can almost sense his annoyance at being lied to.

Shit.

"Ok, I'm sorry," I quickly tried to dig myself out of this whole I had put myself in. "You're right my name is Kessiya, my middle names Anne, I ju-"

"I don't care about your fucking life story," He says shortly. Reaching down he starts to pull me up and I begin to worry.

"Wait- wait what are you doing?" I struggle in his arms when I realise he is taking me back to the boot of his car.

"No please!" I beg frantically, my bound arms and legs mean it's pretty easy for him to pull me to the boot.

As he opens the boot, I kick out at him. He moves just before I could make contact with his body.

"I'll scream! I'll shout! I'll do what I did before again." I threaten and the man sighs, letting go of me. I lean against the car, my chest rising and falling with exertion.

"Well then I'll just knock you out again." He threatens back and I know he was completely serious.

My hair falls in front of my face and I look up at him though a gap in my curtain of black hair.

"Just please don't put me in the boot," I beg once more, "I swear I'll behave. I'll sit in the front and I promise I won't do anything stupid."

Tears pool in my eyes again and I scold myself mentally for being so weak. If I wasn't bound up then maybe I could have put up more of a fight, but with my arms and legs tied up I simply couldn't even move.

The man watches me with cautious eyes and finally his eyebrows furrowed together and his eyes narrow.

"One wrong move..." He threatens, his hand tightening on the gun in his waistband.

I nod my head quickly. Its at this point I realise that this man isn't a seasoned kidnapper. No proper kidnapper would let their hostage sit in the front.

He closes the boot and drags me to the front passenger seat. Pushing me in, he clicks my seatbelt into place and then slams the door shut. He rushes over to the drivers side and get in, glancing at me once with warning before reversing quickly out of the side road and back onto the main road.

I twist uncomfortably in the chair, my arms have gone dead now and my shoulders are cramping painfully.

I gasp when a sudden pain shoots through my neck from where I had twisted my shoulder.

My kidnappers eyes meet mine when I whimper once again and his eyes dart to my bound arms and it might be my low blood sugar, or shock from being kidnapped but I swear I see a flash of regret in his eyes.

He reaches over suddenly and I flinch at the sudden movement. He rolls his eyes at me but opens the dashboard, eyes still fixed on the road though his hands searched the contents for something.

Suddenly a glint of metal catches my eyes and when he pulls out a switch blade I end up begging once again.

"Please," I say desperately, "I told you I would behave, I-"

I feel his hands go behind my back and then suddenly something sharp meets my skin but I don't feel any pain.

As he pulls away my hands fall to my side, free from their constraints.

"Your leg ones stay on." He states, closing the blade and pocketing it in his leather jacket.

I rub my sore arms in shock and surprise, while the kidnapper maintains his stone cold expression, eyes still fixed on the road.

Blood rushed back to my arms and I sigh in relief as I continued to rub my bruised wrists and frozen shoulder.

"Thank you." I whispered quietly, but since it was silent in the car I was sure he had heard it. He didn't say anything however and his facial expression remained stoic.

Since I was no longer blindfolded I could see everything and as we continued to speed across the highway I read the sign which said we were heading out of New York.

Oh no.

Despite the fact I was now sat in the front seat and partially freed from my bounds, it still doesn't change the fact I've been kidnapped.

I have work tomorrow. I can't afford the luxury of being fucking kidnapped.

"Where are we going?" I ask, earning a cold look of warning from the man holding me hostage.

"If you're not going to stay quiet, I'll put you back in the boot." He warns, quickly making me shut my mouth.

Plan one of my escape had failed dramatically but that didn't mean I would be taken without a fight. I just needed to find the right opportunity.

I glance secretly at the man next to me, taking in his chiselled features. He had one of those, model, front page vogue magazine looks. You know, the ones where the guy looks like a freaking Greek statue. He had an olive toned skin with a strong nose and chin. His cheekbones were high and defined, eyebrows dark and thick but shaped in a nice curve. His eyes were a dark brown, which almost looked black, but when light flashed on it, I noticed there were almost golden flecks dancing in those pools of darkness.

I look away quickly, my cheeks heating slightly. Pools of darkness? What the fuck is wrong with me? What in the pits of hell has possessed me to start describing my kidnapper as if I was Shakespeare himself?

I lick my dry lips and force myself to keep my eyes trained on my hands but even that seems too difficult of a task, because before I even realised, my eyes are already back on his face. Exploring every feature as if it was a map of the world.

My eyes trail down to his lips which were nicely shaped and full. They were pulled together into a scowl but even that expression couldn't dull his handsomeness.

He had a slight stubble across his chin and cheeks and his hair was dark and curly. It was cut short, but looked so thick and soft that I wanted to run my fingers through them.

Holy shit!

It had probably only been a few hours and already I was under the effect of Stockholm syndrome. I mean that's the only plausible reason for the irrational thoughts in my head.

I had never thought of any man in this way before. Well except from one, but still.

I was clearly delusional and suffering from Stockholm syndrome and if I didn't get away now, then I never would.

Sitting up straighter, I twist to position my body away from the man holding me hostage. I think carefully about what to do next, bearing in mind my feet were still bound and jumping out of a moving car was definitely not an option.

"What are you doing?" His voice shocks me back from my mind and I look at him from the corner of my eyes. He was watching me with suspicion clear on his face.

"Nothing," I reply. I fake a yawn, "I'm just really tired." I say, forcing myself to lie back and close my eyes.

Silence reigns once more and with my eyes closed, I try once again to figure out a plan of action.

Maybe it was because it was so deadly silent in the car that we heard the sound. The slight 'brrrr... brrrr...' that resounded loudly in the otherwise silence.

"What is that?" My kidnapper asks, his narrowed eyes piercing into mine. His eyes dart around the car and then end back on me.

"What is it?" He asks once more, his tone harsher.

I know exactly what it is. I can feel the vibration against my thighs.

Oh. My. Gosh.

I suddenly remember how I had placed my phone in the pocket of my joggers just before I had been knocked unconscious.

One look back at my narrowed eyed, greek-god like kidnapper and I realise he had probably not searched me when I was knocked out, meaning he had no idea I still had my phone on me.

A wicked smirk crawls onto my face as I reach in and grab my phone, holding it tightly in my fisted hands as if it was my most prized possession.

The man beside me growls in anger as he lurches over to grab it but I quickly move back, burying myself into the side of the car door.

"Ah uh ha." I warn, one hand clutching my phone, one finger raised in the air. His dark eyes get even darker as he snarls in frustration.

"Give me the fucking phone." He growls, his eyes quickly flicking back to the road, hands tight around the steering wheel and then he looks back at me.

I glance down at my screen and realise its my brother, Kevin, calling me.

"Mr Kidnapper, sir." I start, "clearly you're pretty amateur at this whole kidnapping thing, right?" I say, my lips twisting in amusement.

"I mean what kind of kidnapper forgets to search their victim for phones?"

The man doesn't find the situation as amusing as I do. With one quick movement he now has his gun against my temple.

"One last chance," he warns, "give me the phone or you're dead."

I watched him carefully, observing every slight movement, the way his eyebrows scrunched, the way he held his gun so steady.

He was bluffing.

If he was going to kill me, he wouldn't have kidnapped me in the first place. No, he needs me. Probably to find Aaron and that means no matter what he says, he wasn't going to shoot me... not yet anyway.

"Sorry buddy." I reply. "No can do."

He pushes the barrel of the gun deeper into my temple and the sharp coldness of the metal bites into my skin.

His eyes darted between the road and me and I felt grateful that he was driving. I had no doubt that if he pulled the car over, he would easily be able to over power me and take my phone.

"Fucking bitch." He mutters under his breath, his fingers blanching from the force he was holding the steering wheel with.

The phone continues to vibrate in my hands and I decide to reason with my kidnapper.

"Listen," I begin, "obviously you're new to this whole kidnapping business." My assumption makes his scoff, a fire burning deep in his now obsidian eyes.

"I don't kidnap," he states, "I kill."

I shrug my shoulders, "Maybe, but I can tell for sure you've never kidnapped an Indian woman before."

The man looks at me with a raised eyebrow as if to say, 'why the hell does that matter?'

I raise my phone, "Its my brother," I explain, showing him the flashing callers ID. "And if I don't answer this call he's going to tell my parents that he can't get in touch with me. And the problem with Indian parents is that they are overprotective, especially when it comes to their daughters."

His eyes flick back to the road when the car swerves to the side.

"So..." He asks, his voice remains unbothered but I can tell he wants to know what I am hinting at.

"So..." I continue, "if my parents don't hear from me with the next hour or two, I can guarantee you the whole of NYPD will be on your fucking ass."

The man smirks, calling my bluff.

"You think I'm going to believe that?" He asks, looking amused by my words.

Shit.

"I'm serious." I push further. I need him to let me answer this call. "I should also mention, my uncle is a chief inspector in the NYPD." I lie.

It was all complete bullshit. I only had two uncles. One died before I was born and the other owned a tea shop in India. But my kidnapper didn't know that. For all he knew, my family could be Indian royalty.

The gun pointing maniac still looks dubious, his eyes narrowed in suspicion but I can see he is considering my words.

One last push, I think.

"All I need to do is answer this call and let him know that I'm fine. That's it." I say, shrugging, "No NYPD, No overprotective parents."

The man looks at my phone and then at me and then back at the road.

"Why would you do that? Why should I trust you?" He asks, his eyebrows scrunched at my sudden willing participation in my own kidnapping.

You shouldn't, I think. But I don't say anything other than shrug my shoulders.

"Right now I don't think you have many options. Let me answer the phone and that way I can show you that you can't trust me. This whole kidnapping will be a whole lot easier if we both trust each other." I tell him, trying so hard not to roll my eyes.

The phone stops vibrating in my hands and I pray that my brother calls again and thankfully a few moments later my phone starts flashing again.

"Well..." I push, knowing that soon my brother would stop calling. I was running out of time.

The man glares at me, his frustration clearly evident. He raises the gun again to my head and for a second I think any control I had gained we lost.

He burns me with his intense eyes.

"You say one wrong thing and that's the end." He warns and once again I fake fear and widen my eyes for dramatics.

I nod my head in answer.

"Thirty seconds." He says and before he could change his mind, I answer the call, greeted not so kindly by my brothers annoyed voice.

"Kes, where the fuck are you? You haven't answered any of my calls and Millie has been blowing up my phone telling me she can't get hold of you."

I feel the bitter sting of the gun against my head.

"Yeah about that," I start, my eyes darting to the man beside me. He was watching me carefully, listening intently to what I was about to say. The moment his eyes flicked back to the road, I rushed my words. This was my only chance.
"Ivebeenkidnappedandheldhostageheadingoutofnewyorkblackcargu-"

And for the second time that day, I was knocked unconscious. Hey! At least this time it wasn't a frying pan, no it was just a gun.

Fucking shitcakes!

Seriously. Poor Kessiya just can't catch a break.

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