Written in the Scars (The Damaged Souls #1)

Reagan

My head is pounding, my ears filled with the sound of my own heartbeat.

I try to open my eyes, but they are covered with some sort of blindfold, the material is rough against my temples.

My hands bound above me by what feels like rope, my body hanging, I can feel the sway as my body moves, pain electrifying through my shoulders.

I’m freezing and it's then I realize I’m naked, completely bare to whoever has me.

Panic begins to surge through me.

I start screaming, begging for anyone to help me.

I stop to take a breath when I hear something shuffling, am I not alone.

“Who’s there?”

not that I was expecting a response, it was a pathetic attempt of communication.

“Please, let me go!”

Great, now I’m begging my captor! Then the tears flow, the realization that I have a captor.

Nightmares start to flash across my mind, he crosses my mind.

They aren’t nightmares, they are memories.

It can’t be him, it's impossible for it to be him.

I hear more movement but it's distant, maybe coming from behind a closed door.

“Hello, is anyone there?”

my voice is horse now, the screaming has burnt my throat and the crying hasn’t helped.

I hear footsteps come from behind me, moving my head to try and peep below my blindfold, my entire body on fire from the pain.

The steps stop in front of me.

“Please, don’t…”

tape, sticky thick tape, now not only can I not see but I can’t bloody speak either! And I’m struggling to breathe through my nose since I’ve been a blubbering mess of tears and screams.

I grunt, trying to argue at the situation, it’s all I can do as the footsteps walk away, closing a door behind them.

I try to go back over the events leading up to how I got here, the large figure, the speeding car that nearly hit me, the men in suits.

I can’t remember their faces, there must have been a fourth.

The only thing I strongly remember is that smell, it must have been chloroform.

My nose stings at the memory.

And brings forward the memories from before, memories I’ve tried to bury so deep I’d forget them.

I must have passed out or I’ve already begun to black out periods of time.

As I come back around, I notice my body hurts more now, my arms feel numb due to the lack of circulation to them.

I try to move my fingers to see if I can get a feel for what I’m hanging from.

The tips of my fingers meet the cold, rough texture of metal, a hook? Maybe, he used a hook so why wouldn’t this one? I stretch my toes trying to gage how far off the floor I am but there’s no hope, I’m not exactly tall.

I try to move my legs, feel for anything around me, a chair, a stool or just a box, something I can use to help raise me up just enough to unhook myself.

I let out a muffled cry as the strain on my arms increases from the movement.

I feel something to my left, metal, but I’m not sure what it is.

I brace myself, clenching my teeth as I prepare to grab it with both feet.

A bed is the only thing that comes to mind, the curve of the frame rings a familiar image in my mind.

I feel sick, I try again, trying to wrap my ankles around the frames to pull it closer.

An almighty rattle of metal fills the move as the contact shakes the bed.

Waiting to see if my captor comes to see what the noise was.

When I hear nothing, I try again, crying with every movement.

I was hoping it was all a terrible dream when I woke up again.

However, I know I’m not alone this time, I can hear someone behind me.

Their breathing is heavy and tapping away on their phone.

I grunt as I try to turn slightly but it's no use, my body rejects all movement.

I wonder for a moment how long I’ve been here and how long I will be here for.

I know for sure I won’t be leaving alive, I’ve covered the story of young girls gone missing.

You know, the kind of girl who keeps to herself, has a small circle, not many will question her whereabouts.

My thoughts jump to Selene, is she worried about me? Has she even noticed I’m missing, or does she think I’m still knocking boots with Orion?

Holy shit, Orion.

Is it him, did he bring me here? He’s the only one who knew where I was going to be on what day and at what time, he used a blocked number to contact me, he followed me to work, followed me at Crawl the same night, knew where I lived before, I told him.

I’m internally screaming at myself! How could I be so fucking stupid? How could I put so much trust in someone I don’t even know?!

My thoughts are interrupted by the sting of the tape being ripped from my mouth.

“FUCK, that hurt, you basterd!”

I realize getting verbally aggressive with him isn’t going to help me right now.

I take a deep breath, appreciating the ease of breathing again.

I flinch as his hand grabs my chin, his grasp pulling my jaw down.

A cool glass contacting my bottom lip as liquid begins to fill my mouth.

As he lets go, I spit it straight back out, coating him in whatever he tried to feed me.

“For fuck’s sake”, finally a voice but it’s not Orion, I’d know his voice anywhere.

“It’s just water.”

He repeats the process, however he holds my mouth shut this time, when I refuse to swallow, he holds my nose too.

I try to stand my ground but it’s no use, I begin to see stars in the darkness of my closed eyes.

It tastes like water but that means nothing and doesn’t ease my discomfort.

If he isn’t Orion, then who the fuck is it? Maybe, I was just too nosey.

You know, wrong place, wrong time.

Story of my life, right?

Maybe it is him, maybe he got help, waiting in the shadows all this time for his revenge, to finish what he started all those years ago.

“Look, I haven’t seen your face, I don’t know who you are, you could drop me off at the side of any road and I’d have no way of identifying you or the location you have me in.”

I sound desperate, but who wouldn’t in this situation?

Orion

The lobby is getting busy now, as the offices begin to empty, leaning against the central column I keep my eyes peeled for the bubbly receptionist.

I had time to go grab coffee before the end of her shift.

I wasn’t sure what she drank but she seems like the kind of girl to go for something oat based with syrups and decaf, with a whipped cream topping.

She comes into the lobby, all smiley and flirting with a couple of businessmen, I presume from one of the other floors.

She makes eye contact with me and makes a swift turn to go back towards the elevators.

Not today, I have questions, and she knows something.

I catch her by the elbow, bringing her back towards me, our bodies closer than I’d prefer.

Moving my mouth close to her ear.

“I’m not going to hurt you, I just need to talk”, my voice soft and reassuring.

But I’m not lying, I won't hurt a woman, not unless she is my black hair, green eyed queen and even then, the pain I cause her is for her own pleasure.

The receptionist turns to face me, eyeing the two coffee cups in the holder.

Reaching, I pass her the sickening concoction the barista made up for her and nod my head towards the front doors.

Crossing the street, we find a bench in the small green area, there’s not as much foot traffic here.

She hangs her head low, staring at the lipstick on the lid of her take away coffee.

“So, we both know isn’t home ill.”

Her eyes fill with water as she turns it slightly away from me, a jagged sigh leaving her mouth.

“You know something, if she is in danger and you don’t say anything then you're just as bad as the person who has her.”

Anger seeping into the tone of my voice, I don’t try to calm myself.

“I don’t know anything, I know that she didn’t contact the office in regard to being ill and working from home”

tears begin to fall down her rose tinted cheeks, “No one at the office as heard from her and her roommate has been asking after her too”

she finally looks at me, she suddenly looks childlike, soft and innocent.

“Tell me, what’s the story was working on before she went missing?”

if she’s been taken then it has to do with this story, or her scars but we can’t find anything in her background check in regard to how she got them.

“She was scoping Crawl most nights, what’s going on there?”, her expression confused as I shoot question after question, she wipes away her fallen tears, blinking up at me “I’ve no idea, I only ever overheard her complain to two of the other journalists about how boring it was.

There were never any updates or interviews”, her eyes widened.

“Do you really think that it has something to do with Crawl? It's just a dirty gents club though, right?”

I give her a forced smile.

“Look, I appreciate your help, but I should go, and we don’t want to get anyone else in trouble”, I bring myself to my feet.

“Don’t tell anyone I was here, we don’t want to alert anyone that I’m looking into this.”

I leave her with a nod as I walk away.

Reaching for my phone, I hit a call on Frank.

He has to turn it back on sometime.

A sigh of relief as I hear the dial tone echo from my headphones. “Orion.”

He sounds tired, I can hear him pounding at the keys of his computer.

“Do you have anything on Crawl?”

he sighs at my question.

“Nothing, I don’t know who gave the lead for her story but I can't find anything that stands out!”

It sounds like he slams his fist into the keyboard.

“The street cameras show her crossing the street after a close call with a black SUV then nothing, like she just vanished into thin air”

there’s frustration in his voice.

After Frank hangs up, I head straight for ’s apartment.

After checking the camera feed of her apartment I know Selene is home and I think it’s time I spoke with her.

She won’t have answers, but maybe she can give me something to tide me over till tonight.

I feel weaker and weaker by the minute, not that I can keep track of time.

It's always dark for me now, I’ve adjusted to the dingy smell and every now and then he feeds me and gives me water.

The first glass didn’t affect me, however I’m most likely going to die here so why hesitate at the chance of the quick release by poison.

I’ve been in and out of consciousness for what feels like forever, he isn’t here all the time, and when he is, he doesn’t talk much.

And I presume he doesn’t want me dead, yet.

though he has a bloody funny way of showing it, having me hanging here like a piece of meat waiting to be slaughtered.

I need to think of a way out of this, play into his game somehow.

I won't die like this.

I didn’t die like this the first-time round, I won’t die like this now.

I hear the door open behind me, footsteps and what sounds like a metal trolley rattling on the concrete floor.

I try to keep myself calm as panic begins to flow through me again.

Speak , use your fucking words, that’s what your good at.

“Hello?”

I clear my throat, it's dry, making my voice husky.

It's kind of hot if I’m being honest.

Trying to sound unfazed by the situation he has me in.

“So do I ever get to see who has me hung and displayed like a work of art?”, maybe flirting isn’t the best idea, but I’ve got to try something. Anything.

He chuckles, it's low and menacing.

A draft coming from the still open-door casts goosebumps along my skin, and he lets out a whispered growl at the sight.

Does he think my body is responding to him? “All in good time, first eat and drink.”

, he repeats the motions, grabbing my chin and feeding me.

My mouth fills with water, I can’t remember a time I ever savored the lack of taste and feel of water, but right now it’s like ecstasy as it hydrates my throat.

Next, I take a few bites of a sandwich, it’s the same as usual, chicken salad with a small amount of salad cream.

After he is finished, I can feel colour coming back to my face, a little more strength in my body.

The sound of a wooden chair drags along the floor, it creaks as I presume, he takes a seat.

He is close to me, I can feel his breath on my legs as he exhales deep breaths.

“You know I always expected you to be hiding piercings under your clothes, I’ll admit I was disappointed.”

So he does know me.

“I was surprised to find these, though.”

I shudder as he runs his hand over my scarred stomach, each one on fire as he touches them.

So, it’s not him, he would know about my scars, he caused them.

My mind wanders to the memory, so similar to my current position, hanging bare as the blade slices through my skin.

No, .

I shake my head bringing myself back to now, neither place better than the other.

“Please, tell me, who are you?”

my voice filled with fear as I beg to know who is touching me.

Suddenly I feel a rope tighten around my ankles and before I know it my arms relax down his back as he throws me over his shoulder, my mouth releasing screams of fear and pain in the swift movement.

My back makes contact with the soft welcoming comfort of a mattress and my legs are pulled apart and bound to the corners of the bed.

Uncontrollably my body loosens, the aches from all the tension washing away.

My breathing hitches as he plasters my mouth shut with tape again, rolling my eyes in response.

I feel his fingers wrap around the material covering my eyes, as he begins to gently pull it over my head.

My eyelids blink rapidly, my vision is blurry, but I can see a faint light coming from the far corner.

“Hello, Doll!”