The security guard laughs at my useless attack, and drags me further into the alley, out of the faint, orange glow of the only streetlamp. "I have a cage just for you, Miss Watson."

I'm going crazy with terror. The only thing my brain and body knows is that I have to escape.

Escape escape escape escape!

But he's ten times stronger than me and three times as heavy. I can't make him fall, I can't get ahold of his hands to get them off my mouth, I can't hurt him—

Go for the eyes, my brother once said. Don't ever let someone take you to a different location. It always ends badly if a kidnapper takes you somewhere.

He slams me face first against the side of an SUV, smashing my face and knocking the wind from my lungs. Pain explodes in my head, but terror keeps me moving. He's pressing into me to keep me a prisoner. I reach back and upward, clawing at his face, feeling for his eyes.

There. I shove my nails into his eyeballs. He grunts in pain, and shakes his head out of my reach. But it's enough.

For a split second, he isn't pressing me as hard against the car and I slip free.

I race forward blindly. We're in the dark side alley, but if I can reach the main street—

A weight slams into me from behind sending me sprawling to the grimy concrete. My hand breaks my fall partly, setting of spears of agony up my arm. My wrist is twisted or broken. I tumble forward, hitting my head and shoulder as I half roll.

I try to get up, despite the pain that's shooting through my whole body but he's too fast.

He's above me. He straddles my waist and grabs my arms. His hand tightens on my injured wrist, twisting and squeezing. I'm crying, begging him to stop.

Then a roar.

Someone tackles him from the side. They hit the concrete sidewalk with sickening thumps. I roll to my side, trying to stand, but use my hand. It gives out. I'm too dizzy and can't breathe. I start to crawl, one handed, knees scraping asphalt and broken glass through the rips in my jeans.

A man lunges from the shadows and grabs me.

I scream and hit his face, going for his eyes.

"It's me, Conner," he says, not letting go. "It's Conner, it's all right, I've got you!"

I collapse into his arms and he cradles me, there in the alley, stroking my head and telling me it's all right. It's all right. It's all right.

But it's not.

I realize the man who jumped the security guard is Devon. Now he's above my attacker, whaling on him. His bloodied fist crunches on his face again and again. He's shouting with every hit with a dark, growling, inhuman rage.

My stomach turns, threatening to empty itself. I hide my face in Conner's shirt, wetting it with my sweat, tears and blood from where I hit the street.

More men surge into the alley. Ty, Van, and my new big-brother Bastian. They give a cursory glance at Conner holding me, then rush to Devon's side and pull him off my attacker.

His face is a red pulp.

Now, I'm going to be sick.

I push Conner's chest to get to the side and lose the contents of my stomach in the gutter. He holds my hair that's come undone from the bun, like we've been out partying instead of me nearly being kidnapped and killed. And who knows what else. I'm shaking and trembling, fragile as an autumn leaf.

When I stop, he helps me stand, passing his jacket around my shoulders.

I shiver into it—still warm from his body—and realize just how cold I am and how tattered my clothes are. He keeps me in the crook of his side, close.

Van and Ty hold the security guard while Bastian walks Devon away, chest to chest practically, telling him to cool off.

"I'll fucking kill that bastard!" Devon shouts, pointing at the security guard.

"Okay, just tell me what happened," Bastian says.

"Seriously," Ty adds, "what the fuck happened out here?"

"He was—" Devon's voice breaks off in fury. He can't even speak.

"He grabbed me from the hallway and brought me out here to put me in his car. He wouldn't let go," I say. The words pour from my throat in rush, jumbled together. My mind whirls. "He was kidnapping me, hurting me, when Devon came."

Van inhales sharply and fists a hand. "We'll fucking kill him."

"Carl? Fucking Carl tried to kidnap you?" Bastian asks.

A laugh wells in my throat. Carl? How could his name be something so normal as Carl? I nod, swallowing by my laugh. It would definitely come out hysterical.

"What the fuck, man?" Bastian asks him, astounded.

Carl starts to laugh. It's a low, gravelly sound, and completely unhinged.

*** ONC 785 word count. Hit the star and thanks for reading! ***