8:30 am
       The pain on my neck made my body shift. My eyes shot wide open when I realized I wasn't in bed anymore. I was tied to the same chair from last night. Sun rays glistened through the floor-to-ceiling windows, right on the side of my face. I squinted my eyes, adjusting my view to end up making eye contact with the one and only: Jonathan.

"Ah, you're finally awake!" He smiles. He takes a seat on the red leather sofa in front of me. He gets no reaction from me in return. Instead, I glare at him.

"What's wrong my sweet?" He coos. God, I want to barf every time he calls me that. "Cat got your tongue?" He assumes, raising a brow. I remained silent.

The men I met last night walked into the living room.
"Morning boss." Murph speaks up, making his way across the living room to bookshelf that it's actually being used to store alcoholic beverages. He picks up a bottle of whiskey which sat on top of an old book. Must be classic literature.

"Morning!" Jonathan returns the greeting with a dumb ass smile on his face. "Ross, can you pass me my phone?" He glances over at Ross, who was about to make himself comfortable at the kitchen island's stool. Ross sighs as he reaches for Jonathan's phone and gives it to him.
A few moments went by until Michael finally entered the living room. I look up at him but he doesn't dare to look at me. My eyes travel down from the side of his face to his right-hand, which is covered with a bandange. My eyebrows furrowed when I realized he didn't have that last night.

"Oh, look who's also up!" Jonathan cheers, "Mikey!"
Michael doesn't say anything and follows Alex into the kitchen, taking a seat next to Ross at the kitchen island.

     Jonathan shakes his head, "right. . . Where was I?" He rises from his seat and begins circling around me. I can hear him tapping on the phone like he's dialing a phone number. "Guess what we're doing today?" He asks me. I remained silent. "We're calling your parents!" He clasps his hands together with joy.

     Michael looked up from his hands and stared directly at me. When my eyes met his, he immediately shifted in his seat and looked away. Weird.

     I watched Jonathan put the phone on speaker when a "hello?" was heard at the end of the line. That was my father. I gulped as my eyes slightly widened.

"My fellow Y/F/N." Jonathan smiles into the phone speaker. I can hear my father yelling on the other side. "Where is she?!"

      "She's with me. Would you like to speak to her?" Jonathan smirks with his eyes on me.

       The smell of pancakes danced from the kitchen across the living room, making my stomach growl. I took a look at the kitchen and saw Alex pouring the mix of pancakes into the pan. Then I notice Ross treating Michael's wound on the palm of his hand. What happened to him?

     Jonathan moves closer to me so I was able to speak to my father. "D-Dad?" I stuttered. Maybe this time. . . Maybe my parents will make me feel loved. Maybe they actually care about me. They will come for me and I'll be back home and maybe—

     "What the fuck did I tell you about leaving school so late?!" He scolded me, "I bet you were with that goddam music teacher again!"

    Of course he would react like that.

     "You know what?" My father continues, "This is what you get for being so disobedient; a failure!"

     At this point my eyes were glistening with tears in disbelief. I can't believe those words came out of my own father's lips.

     "Are you saying I deserve it?" I asked, sobbing. I already knew the answer. . .

    "Yes! Yes you do!" My father yelled. "Now, hang in there. Your mother and I will get this money, it might take us a while." He sighs.

    I wasn't able to respond because Jonathan brought the phone up close to his mouth. "You have one week Y/F/N. . . Or, you can say goodbye to your precious daughter." He smirks as he strokes my cheek with his oily hands. I swear to God he will make my skin breakout. Has he ever heard of hand soap?

      "However," Jonathan continues. "The longer you take, the more I will make her suffer." He slaps me across the face loud enough for my father to hear, I cried out in pain. I feel like my left-cheek will turn purple, for he has always hit me on the same side.

     "Bye, Jonathan." My father hung up quickly.

      "He doesn't care." My voice breaks as I whisper.

       I look up at Jonathan as he throws his phone away to the couch. "He doesn't fucking care!" I scream, enraged.

    "Why don't you just fucking kill me?!" My face is burning hot. I was questioning my life now. I have no purpose here. What is the poing of living if everywhere I go I will be hurt? If nobody simply cares whether I'm alive or not?

     Jonathan stands stiff, watching me having a breakdown. Alex is stunned. He flips over a pancake while making an awkward duck face. Murph is already passed out, snoring on the single chair next to the bookshelf.

     "Please." I beg through tears. "Just get this over with!"

    "Oh no, honey." Jonathan squats to get on my level. His finger tips trace my cheeks, wiping away my tears. "That will be no fun!" He laughs.
       "But—" he takes out a blade. "I can do this!"

       I felt like I went dizzy while the blood dripped from my shoulder. My breathing fastened as I gasped for air. You know that moment where you stub your toe so hard you feel like you can't breathe? Yeah. Like that, but worse.

    "Fuck!" I screamed at the top of my lungs. I panted as I looked at my shoulder. Jonathan just made a slit from my shoulder to my upper arm.

    "Ross!" Jonathan called out for him. Ross rushed with some tools to treat the wound. His eyes widened when he noticed it was a little deep. "I don't think that was necessary Jonathan, you could've reached a vein." Ross scolds him.

    "If you don't want to end up like Michael for helping this little shit last night," he points at me with his thumb. "Shut the fuck up and do your work."
Ross rolled his eyes and took out some stitches. My eyes widened. I hate needles.

"This is going to hurt." Ross whispered, with a guilty look in his eyes. I took a deep breath and let him handle it. It's either this, or a horrifying infection.

I took another glance at Michael, who was staring the whole time. He clenched his teeth when he made eye contact with me and continued to eat his pancakes.
*******
3:45pm
     I was still tied to this chair wearing the same night gown Michael gave me last night. I can barely feel my hands because the rope is too tight. Ross managed to stitch up my wound while I was yelping close to his ear. Everytime Jonathan was around, Michael pretended I didn't exist. When Ross noticed my confusion, he explained what Jonathan did to him after finding out Michael helped me. He made a cut in Michael's palm.
      "You see him acting all tough and shit but he's actually more caring than any of us combined." I remember Ross whispering to me.

     "Here's the deal." Jonathan's voice snapped me out of it. "I will untie you and let you walk freely around the house ONLY.

     "However, you try to escape— This special treatment will be over." He walks behind me and cuts the rope. I hiss as I gently scratch on my wrists once they were set free. The fiber was so rough it made small cuts on them. He walked in front of me and proceeded to cut the ropes which were holding my ankles together. I stepped out of them once I was free to walk. I stumbled a little, for I've lost strength.

    "Woah, there." Jonathan holds me steady by my waist. I chuckle nervously and slowly back away from his reach. He really thinks I'm not gonna try to escape. Hilarious.

"Jesus, Alex." He sniffs close to me and makes a disgusted expression. "Get this girl to the shower and bring her some clothes."

"But we don't have any clo—"
"Then find some!" Jonathan yells, interrupting Alex.

Alex rolls his eyes, sighing. "Come on, babe." He motions for me to follow him and I do so. He opens the door for me and once I step into the bathroom, I couldn't help but stare in awe. The spacious master bathroom had a candle sitting next to the sink, delivering a comforting smell of sandalwood. The room had wooden details at the corners where every wall met. The bathtub sat in front of the dreamy radius window, detailed with vines that gently touched the dark-wood floor.

"I hope you don't mind if I take that dirty gown." Alex giggled as he referred to my night gown. I didn't notice the massive blood stain after what happened. Alex turned around and extended his arms behind him, doing grabby grabby with his hands. I hesitated before holding the ends of the gown and pulling it over my head, leaving my body completely exposed. I hand it to Alex and without turning around, he made his way out of the door and closed it behind him.
I took a deep sigh when my eyes started scanning the room, until they landed upon the set of bath bombs and liquid soaps for bubbles on a small, wooden shelf close to the bathtub.

I was overwhelmed. Even if Ross took care of my wound quickly, the pain was unbearable. I think I deserve to relax a little.
Of course, in the meanwhile, I can plan how the fuck I'm getting out of here.

*****

     I've been in this bathtub for an hour and a half by now. Thanks to Jonathan's big ass mouth, I was able to overhear they were planning a robbery for tonight. I'm sure they will be waiting until I fall asleep. That will be my opportunity.

     The door opened in such an abrupt manner that I gasped and immediately sank my body into the water until the water reached my neck. When the door was completely open, at the doorway stood the one and only: Michael.

      "Jesus!" I huff. "Ever heard of knocking?" I give him a stern glare. Michael doesn't say anything and walks out of the bathroom, closing the door.

     "I swear-" My thinking-out-loud was interrupted by knocks on the door. "Come in." I force a smile as the door creaked open, revealing Michael once again.

     "Better?" He raises his eyebrows. I nod, flashing him a sarcastic smile.

      "Alex washed the gown since he couldn't find any clothes for you around the house." He tells me as he places down the recently-washed night gown on the marble counter top next to the sink. "Also. . . Jonathan says to get the fuck out of the tub already since you don't pay the water bill, princess." He smiles, slightly biting his bottom and winks. What is up with this man?

   "Oh. . . Okay, I will now." I reach for the handle which you push in order to drain the water.
      Michael reaches for a towel and places it closer to the foot of the bathtub. Just when Michael was about to leave the room, I had already stepped out of the tub and wrapped myself in the towel.

    "Michael?" I call him out, making him stop in his tracks. He slowly turns around and faces me once again. He raises his eyebrows, waiting for me to speak up.

     "U-Um. . ." I hesitated on asking him about his hand. I stuttered, "Is y-your hand okay?"

    He clears his throat, "Yes. It's doing fine, thanks for asking."
He didn't let me say anything else because was already going out the doorway. "Don't take too long." Was the last thing he said before leaving me alone in the bathroom.

********

4:02 am
Now it's the perfect time. Everybody left after I pretended to be asleep. I made a fool out of myself when I was pretending to snore, it was a disaster. At least they bought it.

       My feet make contact with the cold carpeted floor as I carefully creep out the bed. Once I reach the door and open it, I make sure the coast is clear. Which it is.
     I silently tip toe through the hallway into the living room. It's incredibly dark, so I have to be careful. My heart is beating so fast I could feel it pounding in my ear. How come this is so easy yet I'm so anxious?

      I walked past the staircase and made my way across the kitchen until I reached the front door. The moonlight was shining through the floor-to-ceiling windows, which made my vision clearer. It was really that easy.
     Until I felt like my soul just left my body.

    "Where do you think you're going?"

     I yelped and covered my mouth. Fuck.
      My heart wanted to escape from my chest, for it was pounding so hard it could tear a wall down. My breath became shaky as I quietly turned around. The lights were switched on, and once again, I find myself looking at Michael.

     He set down his glass of whiskey on the coffee table before he stood up from the sofa. As he walked towards me, the silence was so loud I could hear his footsteps. Considering he's literally wearing Mickey Mouse slippers right now. I gulped when I was standing face to face with him.

     "I believe I asked you a question, Y/N." He looks at me seriously while keeping his hands inside the pocket of his hoodie.

"Please, don't kill me." I begged him.
"Says the girl who wanted to be killed 13 hours ago." He scoffs, ". . . But really, though. What were you doing?"

I came up with an excuse, "U-Um. . . I needed some fresh air!"

"Please, you don't even believe what you're saying." He laughed and his whiskey breath burned my nose. "Jonathan let me stay here because he knew you would try to escape." He crossed his arms.

"Why did he let you stay if he knew you were capable of letting me go?" I asked him back, crossing my arms as well.

"Why do you want to go back to a place where you get nothing but abused?" He asks with an attitude.

"I asked you first." I scoffed at him.

Michael frowned, "What makes you think I'm capable of letting you go?"

"Same reason you got that cut in the palm of your hand." I reply without any hesitation.

    "Just because I was nice enough to help you last night, does not mean I would let you go like that." He chuckles, but then he becomes serious when asking the following question: "Why did you try to escape? You would basically go back to your routine of getting an ass whoopin' just because you talked ba-"

   "It's not like here is any different, Michael." I interrupt him and show him the stitches on my upper arm. "For fuck's sake, I'm kidnapped, Michael!
   "You can't expect me to just pretend like everything is okay!" I exhale frustration.

    Michael takes a second before speaking, "You're right."

    I let out a deep sigh. "Why did you help me in the first place? Do you do that with all your hostages?" I question.

   "Actually. . . You're our first." Michael traces his bottom lip with his index finger gently.

   "Pfft, I don't believe you." I scoff.

    "Do we look like the kind of criminals who waste their energy kidnapping people?" Michael asks. "Our interest is in drug trafficking and robbing banks. That's why we're confused with Jonathan's obsession with buying this new warehouse he's always talking about. We have enough, already."

******
4:46 am
Michael's POV
"We agree to work for him, he gives us a roof." I explained to Y/N as she listened carefully to every word I said. I took my time to tell her how we came together as a crew; a family, basically. I told her everybody's stories. Alex being abandoned by his gay mexican fathers because he was busted as he sold drugs in order to help his parents pay rent. Ross dropping out of college since he couldn't afford it any longer and his parents rejecting him. Murph ran away from his house at the age of 17 after being sexually abused by his stepfather, he never had the courage to speak up though.

"What's your story?" Y/N asked me. Her eyes are full of curiosity.

    I shrug. "It's really silly. It doesn't matter.
       "What's your story, miss Y/L/N?" I ask her to avoid her question.

     "My s-story?" She gets nervous. "Well... I want to be a singer. But my parents won't allow it."

   Her response surprises me. I raise my eyebrows, "A singer? Do you play any instrument?"

   "I play the piano." She smiles. What a coincidence.

    "You're in luck." I smile at her, "there's a piano in the basement."

    Her eyes lit up and glistened with excitement. "Can. . . Can I go?" She asks. "Please, this is my chance of practicing without my parents ruining it."

    Somehow, that last sentence she said made my heart soften. I couldn't help but think about when Joseph forced me and my brothers to perform. While I was taking it for granted, Y/N was struggling to get her parents' support.
     My eyes look into hers, which are hoping for me to say 'yes'. I couldn't help but admire the color of her eyes, her eyelashes that framed her lids perfectly. Her [your skin color] skin was scarred; her cheek was turning purple. . . it made her skin perfect in a strange way. Her hair was silk in my hand when I dared to place a strand behind her ear.

    "Let's go." I agreed to go with her.

Y/N's POV
      Michael is so weird. During the day, he's like a bad boy; during the night, he turns all sweet. However, when his large hand reached for a strand of my hair and placed it behind my ear—and it might be the silliest thing— I found that gesture so tender. As if nobody's ever treated me with care. In fact, nobody has.

     We walked our way across the living room from where we were sitting. Until we heard keys jingle at the front door's knob and voices.
    "We almost got busted because your dumbass got distracted by a damn puppy!" I overheard Murph.

    "Shit." Michael muttered and pushed me away. "He can't see you with me."

    I immediately ran to the bathroom. The front door flew open and through the doorway walked the fellas carrying tons of bags and suitcases. I closed the door behind me and waited a few seconds before flushing the toilet to make it look like I was using the bathroom. I walked out, acting normal. Only to end up bumping into Jonathan's back.

    "Oh, there you are!" He gives me a smile. "You know I was thinking..." As he trails off, I glance at Michael, who's helping our Murph and Alex count the money. His eyes meet mine and he winks before focusing on the stack of money in his hands. I couldn't help but smirk.

     Of course, Jonathan noticed. He looks back at Michael, then at me.  In a second, my throat is between the wall and Jonathan's hand. I gasped for air as he pressed my body with his against the wall. My eyes became fearful as I studied his face, he was angry.

    "As I was saying," he breaths in my face. "Since I never thought you would feel that good in bed. How about I keep you as my little sex slave? Hm?
      Also, you're here because of me, to do what I say, to please me. Not to whore around with my men."

   I turn my head to the side to avoid the smell of his pig breath. I coughed since I was running out of breath. "S-Stop." I begged.

   "Come on." He let go of my throat and held me by the wrist, yanking me. He paced so fast that I tripped a couple of times until we made it to his bedroom. Tears made my eyes glow at the thought of him forcing himself inside me again. Fighting against him would only make it worse. I had no choice.

******

5:24 am
      I cried disconsolately while I was curled up into a ball on the bed. I'm back at the guest bedroom with a stinging pain in my inside. Jonathan went too far. All I want is to get the fuck out of here. I have to.
      I was hoping for my door to open; for Michael. If he could only walk in to make sure I was okay. He might be strange, but the feeling of being cared about—at least a little— was a good one. Even if he said it was 'just a nice gesture'.

    It felt like forever but he never came. I felt so hopeless and worthless. It didn't take a lot for my cries to quiet down, for I cried myself to sleep after being so involved in my own thoughts.