Forever Mine

Chapter 21

CHAPTER 21

JAY

The first thing I noticed was the fucking machete slicing my head open… Okay, so there wasn’t an actual machete or anything slicing my head open, but there may as well have been with how badly it was hurting. What the fuck happened? Even my worst hangover never hit me like that. I tried to open my eyes and realized that I couldn’t. That wasn’t really true either, but even when I opened them I was in complete darkness. Something brushed against my eyelashes as I blinked. Was I fucking blindfolded?

A wave of panic washed over me when I tried to move my arms and I couldn’t. They were stuck behind me somehow. Okay, I needed to fuckin’ think.

I was lying on my side with my legs curled up into my chest. I tried to stretch them out, only to hit something. It was soft but it was restricting my movement. I wiggled my legs side to side and determined there wasn’t a whole lot of space on either side of me. I was definitely caught in something, but if I moved enough, I could feel something solid all around me. Maybe a trunk or some kind of cage. My arms were tied behind my back. It wasn’t metal cuffs, more like a strap. I tried tugging at it, but from this angle, I didn’t have enough room. When I went to open my mouth, it wouldn’t budge. Was it duct-taped shut? I didn’t know for sure, but I couldn’t fucking move it at all.

I’d never loved tight spaces. I’d spent a lot of time locked in closets when I was little, when my ma had clients over or boyfriends who didn’t want me around. One time she went on a bender and forgot I was in it. It took me a whole day to get brave enough to try to get out on my own and then probably close to another day for me to do enough damage to the doorknob to break it open and get out. After that, no fucking thank you. I never let my ma put me in a closet again, and any time I was in small spaces it became hard to fuckin’ breathe. Like right now.

I tried to suck in air, but I couldn’t because of whatever was over my face. I got the impression that it covered more than just my mouth, too. Like my nostrils were free, but now that I was aware, it felt like the stuff was over most of my face. My chest burned and I started to wheeze. I had to get out of here. My feet were tied together, but my legs were free. I started kicking and screaming as best I could through the gag. Something was definitely restricting me. Was I in a fucking duffel bag? My chest heaved and I couldn’t get any fucking air. Oh fuck, fuck, I was going to suffocate. My body shook and tears stained the blindfold.

I was gonna fuckin’ die in here. I was gonna die without ever getting the courage to tell Kota I loved him.

Dakota. He was probably so fucking worried. And Beck and Riley. Beck was gonna lose his fuckin’ mind if I died here.

I managed to pull some air through my nose. It made me lightheaded but also reminded me that I was still alive. I never gave up, not ever, and I sure as fuck wasn’t gonna start now that I had something to fight for.

Half the time I still felt Dakota would be better off without me. But every single day he showed me that my insecurities were bullshit. With some bizarre twist of fate, Dakota chose me. He wanted me. He even loved me. I wasn’t gonna dishonor that by giving up on myself. By giving up on him. Not gonna fucking happen.

It took longer than I liked to admit for me to calm down enough to try and think, but finally I was managing to get some air through my nose, and I tried to concentrate and think about what I had to do to get outta here. Get back to my Dakota.

I was moving. Okay, so I was likely in a trunk. But how? How did I get here?

I remembered choking that guy from the grocery store, and then that doctor showed up. He told me he’d take me to wait for Dakota, but where he was leading me wasn’t looking familiar, and then…darkness. Did that piece of shit drug me? But why?

Everything started to slot into place as I jostled around the trunk. What the fuck was he driving on, the side of a mountain? This fucker, the guy who signed the death certificate for my mother, was Dakota’s stalker? It was so hard to believe that I was doubting myself, even as nothing else made sense. He drugged me. I was like 98% sure that was what happened. What other reason would he have to do that if he wasn’t Kota’s stalker? Unless he was a serial killer and there were two psychopaths running around. That was too much drama even for me, so I was gonna assume it was option one.

The car slammed to a stop and I tumbled into the side, jabbing my shoulder against something hard. Fuck. After a few seconds, the car started moving again. Maybe a stop sign?

Since I couldn’t move my hands at all, I tried to use my legs to get a feel of the space. I could straighten them about halfway. I kicked out, and a loud thwang rang out. Okay that was the side of the car. I kicked as best I could in front of me and was pretty sure that was the trunk, so the other side must be the seats.

I had no idea what to do with that information though. I didn’t want to kick in the seats. Who knew what was waiting for me that way, and since I couldn’t see shit, I’d have a serious disadvantage.

I tried to listen to the sounds around me but all I could hear was the hum of the car. I couldn’t hear any other cars or horns or people, the usual sounds of the city, so did that mean we weren’t in the city anymore? How the hell long was I out for?

The longer we drove the harder it was for me to stay calm. We seemed to be going straight for a while, only stopping for brief periods. I thought about trying to kick in the trunk and make noise, but there was no guarantee anyone was even around, and I didn’t want to risk my kidnapper hearing me.

Holy fuck, my kidnapper. How the hell did that happen? I couldn’t think about that now. I had to think about how the fuck to escape.

After coming up blank for a while, I decided my best bet was to wait till we stopped. We’d have to stop eventually, right? Either he’d open the trunk to take me out and I’d have a chance to fight, or he’d leave me in here and I could make noise and try to break out. I didn’t love either option but I didn’t know what else to do.

The car kept moving, though. To keep myself busy, I felt around as best I could with my feet and my trapped hands to see if I could find anything to help me. The way my arms were pinned I couldn’t reach my pockets but I doubted the fucker was dumb enough to leave my knife and cell phone with me.

Still, maybe there was something in this trunk that I could use as a weapon, but I just felt a scratchy fabric everywhere, and came up blank and exhausted and struggling to breathe again by the time I was done. Fucking A. I had to save my strength. I’d eventually have the opportunity to fight or escape, and I had to be ready for it.

Trying to keep calm, I thought about Dakota. How his brown eyes lit up when he was passionate about something, and how fucking expressive he was that I always knew exactly what he was thinking. I thought about the loving, fun way he was with his nieces and nephew, and the way he relaxed when he had a little to drink. I thought about how his hands felt when he touched me, the feeling of his soft lips on mine. I thought about the way he moaned and his eyes rolled in the back of his head when I took him apart or the loving way he watched me when I barely could keep it together. Or how when we first met and he’d brought me sandwiches every day and never let me be alone. How he just accepted Beckett and Riley as part of his life without hesitation, once Beck cleared up the misunderstanding. I pictured every inch of his skin, every freckle across his face, how his hair stuck up in the morning when he woke up. Fuck, I loved that man so fucking much.

I decided then that I was going to fight. I was gonna get out of this and I was gonna live. I was coming back to Dakota, and I’d tell him I loved him. With words, not just actions. Then I’d spend every day of the rest of my life showing him. I’d never be worthy of Dakota Kelly, but I was going to live so I could spend the rest of my life trying.

I wasn’t sure how long till the car finally stopped moving. It felt like hours, but it probably wasn’t that long. By the time it did, my arms and shoulders burned from the position, and my face was itchy as fuck from whatever was on it. I was desperate to get out of this trunk, even if I couldn’t escape yet.

I stayed as still as possible, straining to hear anything. After long torturous moments of silence, there was a muffled bang sound, like a car door closing. Fuck, this was it.

I didn’t move, I barely breathed, waiting to see what happened next. I heard what sounded like another door, and then nothing. No one came to let me out. There didn’t seem to be any other noise.

I still waited for an excruciatingly long time, not wanting to risk being caught. But after a while, I felt safe enough to try…something. What, I still wasn’t sure. As quiet as it was, I didn’t think there was anyone around that would hear me, so my best option, I thought, was to try and kick in the seats and see if I could get out that way.

The question was, how? My back was to the car seats, so I couldn’t get enough force for strong kicks. I had to try and turn around, but that left me more vulnerable if someone did come and open the trunk. Fuck.

Well, I couldn’t just sit here and panic. I had to take my chances. It took way too long for me to turn my body in the tight space. It was one of the few times I regretted being so fuckin’ tall. I just had too much body to maneuver and every time I banged against the sides or the top as I tried to shift reminded me how fucking small the space was. I was sweating by the time I was done, making the tape even itchier and stinging my eyes. Whatever strap was holding my wrists was a little loose though, so even as I tried to shift my legs in the right position, I started working my wrists, hoping to get them free.

Panting, I brought my knees as close to my chest as I could manage and then kicked…hard. The trunk rattled, but nothing else happened. I tried again, and again. It wasn’t fucking budging. Tears joined the sweat, and the blindfold started to slip. I kicked and I kicked until my legs ached and my shoulder was screaming, but I still kept fucking kicking. What kind of fucking car was this?

“Fuck, fuck.” This wasn’t working. I needed another plan. I barely even had a chance to consider anything when I heard something from outside the car. I tried twisting around so I wasn’t facing away if the trunk opened. My blindfold had shifted and one eye was halfway out. It wasn’t a lot to go on, but it was more vision than I’d had. I had succeeded in getting on my back when there was a beep and then the trunk opened.

I stayed completely still as a hand reached in and unzipped the zipper of the bag thing I was trapped in. I kind of wondered what bag was big enough to fit me, even with my legs folded in half, but didn’t have enough time to completely formulate that thought. As soon as I was as free as I was gonna get, I kicked out and felt some kind of relief when I connected with flesh, the little grunt of pain egging me on and giving me the motivation to try again. Until I heard one word that completely spun my world on its axis.

“Jay.” Dakota’s pained voice broke through the adrenaline, the anger, and the fear. I froze, my legs awkwardly hanging in the air.