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His Hostage(10)

By:Willow Winters

Chapter 3: Elle

I hear a loud bang, then someone yells. The sounds are faint, and distant. What the fuck happened? I try to move my arms, but someone’s holding me down. A small moan escapes from my lips. I'm so sleepy. Why am I so drowsy? I feel groggy as I turn my head slowly from side to side, and then I remember. I remember his mouth on my body. The heat between my legs makes my body want to turn and my thighs clench, but I’m pinned down. A strangled groan leaves me as I try to move my wrists, but I can’t.

“She’s fine.” A distant, masculine voice that I don't recognize has my forehead creasing with confusion.

“If you lay another fucking hand on her, I’ll--” He sounds so angry. Why is he so angry? I struggle to remember. Vince. His handsome face and cocky smile flash before my eyes. “I’m Vince.” I hear his words in my head. It feels like a faint memory.

“Calm down. It had to happen, Vince. This is the better alternative. For now, this should work.” I hear a third voice as I start to feel slightly more alert, but I keep my eyes closed.

“I didn’t fucking touch her. It’s a roofie, for Christ's sake. It was either this, or off the broad.” Roofie. That word triggers something within me, and makes me move involuntarily.

I try to jackknife off the desk, but someone’s still holding me down. I open my eyes and focus on the man holding me down. I recognize his face. Vince. I struggle against him. His large frame towers over me as his dark eyes search my face. Betrayal hits me hard, and tears prick my eyes. He drugged me. Did he…? I can’t even finish the thought. I struggle to breathe as a sob rips through me.

How did I get here? I’m in an office and it seems vaguely familiar. I shake my head and try to shake the sleep away. How long have I been here? I remember his face, I remember his name, I remember this room. I remember it all, but only in brief flashes. I shake my head again.

“Vince?” I ask in a wary voice. Please let me know him at least. I need to remember something.

“Shit, she remembers,” one voice from over my shoulder says, and then he curses under his breath.

“She won’t remember it all. I promise you this is going to work,” the third voice sounds out with confidence. Remember what?

I turn to my right to avoid looking at Vince. Fear washes over me like ice against my skin. Two large men stare back at me. Their tanned skin is stretched tight across their bulging muscles. One man is much less muscular compared to the other one, but he's still jacked. It's only because he's standing directly next to a guy with a truly beastly physique that he seems even a hair less intimidating than he actually is. Their dark hair and eyes make them a frightening sight. Mostly because they look back at me like I’m a threat. Again I try to move away, but Vince's grip only tightens on my wrists as his forearm digs deeper into my hip. My wrists burn as I continue to struggle.

Their words finally start to register and sink in. I don’t know who they are or why I’m here, but I know they want to kill me. Or did. I open my mouth to scream for help out of pure instinct, but Vince is faster. He covers my mouth with his hand. I take the arm that's suddenly free and push against his hard, unmoving chest in a feeble attempt to push him away. It’s useless.

Vince leans down with his lips barely touching mine. “Don’t fucking do it, sweetheart.” His voice holds a threat that leaves my chest hollow as fear consumes me. Who is this man? The weight of the situation crashes down on me. What the hell did I do? My eyes dart to the other men in the room. I’m surrounded by criminals, predators who’ve drugged me. I close my eyes and try to will away the depressing helplessness. I’m not okay. I’m not going to be okay.

“Get out.” Vince’s hard voice has the two men walking slowly to the door. I concentrate on my breathing and watch them leave.

The larger of the two men looks back at Vince with a hand on the door, standing just inside the room, and holds his gaze. After a moment. Vince says softly, “I’ll let you know if I need you.”

Something about his tone, the somberness of it, sends pricks down my chilled skin.

The second the door shuts, I try again to get out of his grasp.

“Stop struggling.” I hear the dark threat he whispers in my ear through his clenched teeth, but I don’t listen. I can’t listen. I saw those men. I saw the look they gave me, and then the ones they gave him. I’m fucked. I’m so fucked. They’re going to kill me, and I don’t even know why. I need to get the fuck out of here. I try to scream again, and the hot air and spit cover my chin as his hand presses even harder against my mouth.