My wrists burn as the rope chafes against them. But I don’t stop struggling. I won’t stop. I know if I can just get my hands free then I’ll be able to untie my legs. There’s enough room for me to wiggle around and search for the latch. There’s always a latch in these cars.

I take a deep, extremely unsteady breath and focus on loosening the knot. My shoulders hurt so fucking bad. Every bump we go over sends my body bouncing and I land hard on my side. I have nothing to brace my head against either. My neck hurts from trying to brace myself every time we hit a bump.

My throat is killing me from screaming and my eyes feel raw. It’s a horrible feeling, knowing you’re going to die. I just don’t understand why he hasn’t done it yet. He’s not going to let me go. More tears prick at my eyes. My hand covers my mouth to hold back the sob. He’s keeping me. My body shivers and I pull my legs up to my chest and rock myself.

I can’t believe this is what I am now. A prisoner. He’s going to do whatever he wants with me. I’m completely at his mercy. The tears fall down my face. I rub my cheek on my knee, to wipe the tears away, and try to steady my breath. Maybe that’s not it. Or maybe I can appeal to that side of him. A flicker of hope lights inside of me. I just need to get out of here. However I can.

I’m so god damn tired. I feel dizzy and my head is killing me. I just want to go to sleep, but I can’t. I want to fight this. I don’t want to fall asleep. I can’t just lie down and let him do whatever the fuck he wants with me. I’m going to fight as long as I can. Confusion overwhelms me again. I just don’t understand why my memory is so passionate, giving me a feeling of comfort and safety, but my reality is the exact opposite.

The brakes slow again, and this time the car stills and I hear the click of him parking the car. My heartbeat picks up to a frantic pace. I failed. I couldn’t get out of these fucking ropes or find a trunk latch anywhere. Fear cripples me as he pops open the trunk. I try to scream through the gag, but it’s useless.

“Come on sweetheart, did you really think I’d take you to somewhere you would be heard?” He looks at me like he’s disappointed. I don’t know what he expects from me. “Be a good girl for me and make things easy for us both, alright?” Is he out of his god damned mind?

I try to scoot away from him, but it’s useless. It's not like there's a ton of extra room in the trunk. I don’t even realize he’s untying the rope around my legs though until he starts massaging my calves. A moan of satisfaction leaves me. I didn’t realize how sore they were until he brought more circulation to them. His large, rough hands move to my wrists and as the ease of comfort coupled with slight pain hits me, he rubs my shoulders, bringing them back to life.

“I’m sorry about that,” he apologizes, and he sounds truly sincere. His thumbs move in small circles on my back, and then travel up to my shoulders and down my arms. “But you weren’t really cooperating.”

His excuse pisses me off. What he’s doing is not fucking okay. I can’t remember a damn thing. Ergo, there’s no reason for me to be here. They should’ve just let me go. I close my eyes as his soothing touch relieves the ache. I try to remember.

I recall that moment when he introduced himself with his handsome smirk after I heard his deep masculine voice state, “I’m Vince.” That moment flashes before me and sends a warmth through my body. That memory is followed by the feeling of my back arching on the hard, cold desk while his mouth licks and sucks at my clit. Fuck! I force my heavy eyes open as his arms wrap around me, bringing me close to his hot, hard body. I push away from him and snap, “I can walk.”

His pissed off expression makes me want to cower, but he slowly puts me down and lets my feet find purchase on the ground.

I hate that I gave myself to him. I clench my thighs again. I don’t feel any different. I’m not sore at all. More than anything, my clit is swollen with the need for his touch. I have no idea what all we did, but it’s more than I’ve ever done before, at least on the receiving end. I’ve never had anyone go down on me. My cheeks flame with embarrassment.

I take one step forward with his hand resting lightly on the small of my back. I look up at the house. It’s not large, but it’s not small either. A country home, with light blue shutters and a porch swing. It looks like a picture-perfect home, out in the middle of nowhere with a dirt driveway. My eyes dart to the left--nothing but a flat field. My eyes dart to the right--woods.

Seeing the woods and knowing we’re alone terrifies me. My body turns to ice.

He’s going to kill me. My feet stumble and I nearly lose my balance. I take a ragged breath. I can’t do this. Anxiety makes my blood race and adrenaline pumps through my veins. I can’t handle this shit. My throat closes.

“You okay?” Vince asks me, and again I’m confused by the concern in his voice. I don’t know what’s going on. I wish I could remember. I swallow thickly and nod my head, righting myself. I wish all this were over with. I close my eyes and remember how he choked me against the wall. I can’t. I can’t go in there with him. I won’t make it out alive.

I may not be strong, but I don’t have to be. Not physically, anyway. I push my heavy body forward and shove my elbow right into his spleen. I saw someone do it in a movie once. I hear a gush of air push out of him and his groan of pain as he topples forward, but I don’t waste a second. I force my body to move and sprint toward the woods. Everything is a blur. My heart isn’t steady, and my ankle nearly rolls, but I push forward. I lose one of my flats, but I don’t spare a moment to even consider it.

My bare foot pounds against the grass as I race to the edge of the woods. I can hear him getting up. He’ll catch up to me in no time. If only I can get into the woods far enough to hide. It’s dark out. I can hide. I need to be able to hide. My feet slam against the ground. I feel the cold dirt on the sole of my bare foot. My heart hammers faster. Branches whip by my face. I duck to avoid as many as I can. I brace my body against a thick tree trunk and try to keep my balance. The rough bark scratches against my skin.

I heave in a breath and then scream as Vince’s body slams into mine, knocking me to the ground. His large body pins me down. His hips spread my legs apart and his knees land on my thighs, pushing my body open and forcing me to stay beneath him. He pins my wrists above my head with one hand, and his other hand wraps around my throat. I let out a scream, but he doesn’t put any pressure on my throat. Instead, he's just merely gripping it. I try to buck him off of me, but it’s hopeless.

He growls into my ear. “You can’t fucking listen, can you?” I close my eyes and whimper.

“I don’t want to die.” My murmur is barely more than a whisper.

“You’re not fucking acting like it.” His hand tightens on my throat, and his hips push harder into mine.

For a moment my eyes flash to an image of him on top of me, pounding into me, ruthlessly rutting between my legs. My body heats at the thought. I can see us just like this. I turn my head to the side and refuse to think about it. My body flames with need, but I deny it. I’m so ashamed. So confused.

“You need to fucking listen to me.” He clenches his teeth and slowly lets go of my wrists. I don’t move. I stay as still as possible. He grips my chin and forces me to look at him, but I keep my eyes closed. He squeezes tighter and I instinctively open my eyes. His sharp, dark gaze stares back at me.

“Don’t fight me,” he commands. “You will obey me.” His words send another shot of arousal through me, but thankfully he’s already on his feet and pulling my nearly limp body up onto his. He slings me over his shoulder to carry me away like some kind of primitive caveman.

I don’t know what to think. I don’t understand why I feel this way.

I don’t have a choice in any of this.