Chapter Fifty-Nine
One year ago, if you had told me that I would end up blindfolded in the back of a black SUV with a gun softly pressing to my head by a man who has tried to kill my supposedly secretly rich family for years, I would probably punch you. As the young, angsty teenager I was and quick-tempered as I had been with Karen and her drama, I probably would have zero tolerance to hear about some hypothetical insane-sounding scenario. A black eye and I'd walk away carelessly.
Well, this is my life. And I caused all of it. Karma.
"So glad to be out of that traffic," a male voice mumbles from far away, probably driver or shotgun seat. Not Victor. From what I've gathered, there are at least three men or women in the car.
"Keep driving," Victor curtly responds, sighing. I hear him unlock into his phone, his ringer on. If my hands weren't handcuffed, I would've used that opportunity to surprise attack him, using the force of my head to knock him momentarily while the gun dropped into my lap or something. But everything is planned to precision.
Precision...but perfection? No way. There is a mistake and I am constantly using all my senses to find itâany gap for escape or a way to out-smart him.
For some reason, the fear that is supposed to be crawling through my chest and body has disappeared. Death feels like an old friend, one my mother knows too well. Would it really matter if anything happened to me? I don't know a life without my mother. Lee, Mark, Madam Jin, and everyone had such a large life without me before and after, it will be the same. I haven't even spoken to many of them for months. Daniel would move on. Candy and my friends would hold me in their hearts for the rest of their lives, a token of whatever I had represented to them.
I brush away my thoughts, knowing these pitiful ideas won't help anyone.
Hours pass, blurred between a growl in my stomach and the thirst in my throat. I haven't eaten or drank anything in hours and sheer panic has exhausted all resources in me. I'm still in my maroon party dress. I wish I could change so bad. It's a good thing I took off my heels in the hospital elevator much to Victor's suspicion. Not to mention the car itself was almost too hot. I couldn't wait for the winter air.
Eventually, the gun is removed from the temple of my head. The car begins to slow and soon the engine eases off. When the door opens, I try to think of escaping. Not immediately. But I focus on the sounds. Busy street or rural countryside? I focus on the feeling of the streets. Sidewalk pavement or dirt road? These will be essential later on if I somehow manage to get away.
But when I am pulled out, the floor is smooth. Like marble. There are no sounds and no smell. It's cold, but only slightly. I'm baffled, my senses overthrown. Where could I be?
"Move along," a man grouches as I feel a shove against my back.
I obey, dragging my feet along. There has to be something. Am I in a building? Am I still in New York? Is this all a trick?
The amount of horror movies have tuned my head to believe that this is like some action plot that will result in evil strategies yet a happy ending. As I begin to lose feeling of time and space, not knowing where I am and far from being able to accurately even guess, I find myself spiralling in doubts.
Suddenly, a cloth is pressed to my mouth with a chemical scent and an overpowering hit of nausea and fatigue. I feel my consciousness slip away from me as my limbs begin to drop.
I am cold when I wake up. My eye feel like they're glued together but I take in the fact that I am no longer blindfolded. I rub my eyes, forcing them to open. The room is small, almost like the size of my own bedroom back at home. It's bland, walls beige and floor hardwood. Am I in a house? How long has it been?
There are no windows. I can't tell time.
I begin to feel that dread creep back into the corners of my heart again. The possibility that I could die or worse could happen makes my breath quicken. My throat feels like sandpaper, my tongue almost a heavy, foreign object in my mouth. I look around and near the door is a plate with a sandwich and a tiny glass of water.
I scamper over and almost reach it until a pain strikes my right ankle. I can't move. I look over, noticing a chain. It's clamped tightly around my tight ankle and the other side is tightened on a drilled in rod in the wall. I have never seen anything like this in real life. The true reality of being unable to move or shackled is a pure nightmare.
My throat feels parched and I feel my energy dissolving. I need to get the water and food.
I begin to get on my knees again, crawling over slowly. The chain stops me a couple feet away from the food. I wince, feeling the chain leave marks against my leg. I get down on one elbow, using my arm to reach over. My fingers graze the tray with the sandwich and water. Why do they have to be cruel? They need to keep me alive till they get their money. I guess Victor needs his disgusting revenge.
When I can't reach it after what seems like six times, I sigh and lay down with my cheek against the floor. I barely have to energy to even move or stay awake.
Something wet drips down my nose and onto the floor. I'm crying. I feel my mental strength deteriorating. As much as I want to fight and destroy Victor, I know he's planned this for years and that my chances for escape are very slim. And now, I can't even get my own water and food.
My mother is dead. My father is someone I don't know.
Everyone I love has their life or wealth on the line.
I did this.
I let the tears fall, but eventually, even they stop. I feel like an empty vessel, searching for any light, anything to look forward to, but there isn't any. Everything is a catastrophe and it's my fault. I can't see tomorrow. I haven't been able to see tomorrow in a while. I don't want to fight anymore. Maybe this is meant to happen. Maybe I am nothing.
My eyelashes flutter against my cheeks as my eyes shut. It's fine. I don't need to try.
It's over.
For a while, there's nothing. No noise. I can barely even hear my own voice.
"Ivory."
The voice is deep and warm. It feels like arms wrapping around me and hugging me tightly, infusing hope and love. It sounds familiar. Like home.
"Ivory. Don't give up."
One word comes out of my mouth without control. "Lee," I whisper.
A collage of Lee's pops into my head. The first time I met him, the icy businessman with just as icy blue eyes. When I first got to know him, dancing in the warm firelight to a soft love song. Our fake public kisses and our first real kiss. The first time I woke up to him besides me in bed. The dead flower he gave me. The cooking. The first time I heard him play guitar. Hearing about his past. His anger regarding Mark. His rare, easy going smile and young, boyish aura when we had our getaway. His heartbreak when he accused me of leaking his life.
The thought of never seeing him again kills me.
My heart feels like it beats again. His hands, always so soft and gentle with me even though he looks like he could punch someone with his dark glares and unamused face. The feather kisses on my forehead and body. The strings he pulls to make sure I am happy. There is a way in which he holds me, loves me, and makes me the happiest girl in the world. I can feel it. It's electric.
I need to get out of here. I need to see him again. I didn't get to say goodbye. I didn't get to tell him so much. I need to tell him everything. I love him.
My eyes jump open.
I love Lee.
My arms drag against the floor as I get on my elbows again. My knees rub against the floor as I crawl again. I take deep breaths, calming my body and attempting to find any energy I can.
I have nothing to lose and I have everything to fight for.
The chain stops me at the same spot it has been stopping me. My ankle feels like it might be cut off. This time, I arch my other knee up, almost doing a split with the wall keeping my right leg tethered to the wall. Though painful, I throw my upper body closer to the tray. While I only go about an inch farther than before as I feel my body radiating in pain, it's enough.
My fingertips graze onto the edge of the tray before grabbing it and pulling it. The pain is worth it.
I grab the water cup, still in my uncomfortable position, drinking the water faster than I ever have in my life. It feels cool against my lips and throat, despite it being room temperature actually. It tastes like the best water I've had in my life.
When I'm done, I sigh, wiping away the slight mess of some water droplets down my chin. I reach for the bread, ripping it and gobbling it down. I don't even taste it. I just feel like I need to fill up my body so I can get strength. Anything to ground myself and get energy to kill these bastards.
Suddenly, there are loud footsteps.
The door quickly cranks open and my heart stops.
--
Hey! Long time no see...again. Really, guys, I am a terribly flawed human with no excuses at all. Happy finals week to all college/any students right now! I am currently lying on grass outside, trying to study but finding myself writing instead. I am deeply sorry for not uploading. The end of the semester is always hell.
I know this chapter is small, but the next one is JUICY!! I finally decided how I want to end this story and I can't wait for all of you to read it. I am thinking about a sequel too. What do you guys think?? (You guys: How about you upload the chapters of this one first!!") True....
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My life is average per usual! Another school year passes. Many interesting deals are happening. I am trying to get SWAL published this summer!!! Trying to find an agent and an agency and all of that is so difficult though. I'm also a broke college kid.
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