Chapter 21
Harper
The door ripped open, and my head snapped up. What time was it? What was going on? I felt my chair moving along the floor as I was pulled from the closet, but I didn’t have the energy to scream. I was tired, my legs and my wrists hurt, and my jaw was swollen from the hits I took yesterday.
At least, I thought it was yesterday that it all happened.
I stayed silent as my attacker untied me. I didn’t try to fight him because I knew he was stronger than me. I wouldn’t be able to take him, and I would risk my child’s life in the process. I stumbled out of the apartment as he dragged me by my arm, my shins scraping against the ground as I tripped and fell.
“Get the fuck up,” he said.
His grip was tight, and I knew it would leave a bruise. His arm came around my neck again, and I started choking on the pressure. My nails clawed at him as a blindfold came down over my face, and it was tied tightly behind my head.
“Hold still, or this knife is gonna find that pretty little belly button of yours.”
I could feel the cool blade slithering up my leg. I whimpered and tried to pull away, but I was being restrained. My eyes were clouded with tears, but even if I could see it was no use anyway. They soaked into the fabric of my blindfold as the knife made its way further up my leg.
I grunted and tried to kick the man away, and that was a mistake. He ran the blade along the inside of my thigh, and I cried out in pain. A bag was shoved over my head before I was pushed back into the van, and I jumped as the doors closed with a thud.
I didn’t know where we were going, but I knew I needed to shut the fuck up.
I could feel the blood pooling on the floor of the van. My hands were shaking, and my legs were weak. My stomach was gurgling with hunger, and my mouth was bone dry. I had no way to get to my prenatal vitamins, and it worried me that my little baby wasn’t moving around in my body.
“Come on,” I said. “Just one little kick for momma.”
“Shut the fuck up!” the man roared.
I bit down on my bottom lip as my hands roamed over my stomach.
I felt the van roar to life, moving as I braced myself against the wall. I tried to remember the turns the van took to calm my nerves as blood continued to trickle from the gash in my leg. Focusing on the movement calmed my nerves and settled my mind, and I hoped that the decrease in my heartbeat would somehow signal my child to start moving. I wasn’t sure how all of that worked, and I was kicking myself for not paying more attention to my fucking doctor’s appointments.
“Come on,” I whispered with tears in my eyes. “Just once.”
Then, I felt it. The smallest kick right into my bladder. I could feel urine trying to break free as my little boy continued to kick, but I didn’t care. He was still alive, and it swelled my chest with hope.
My baby boy was still alive.
Even though my hands were in front of me, they were ziptied. My ankles were bound with something I couldn’t figure out, but my hands were definitely ziptied. And tight as well. I was losing feeling in my pinky fingers, and if I weren’t careful, I’d lose all blood circulation in my hand. I twisted them around to see if I could break free, but the harder I tugged the more the plastic cut into my skin. I could feel the blood rising to the surface on my wrists, so I dropped my hands back onto my stomach.
“That was a good decision,” the man said.
I jumped at his voice, and he chuckled.
“It’s good that you’re scared. Your father should be, too. I’ve got no issues slitting your throat in front of him if he doesn’t come with his money.”
“Not if Cade kills you first,” I said.
“Cade. Huh. You called that name out in your room. He your special someone?” the man asked. “Perhaps the father of your child?”
I kept my mouth shut and continued to work on the zip ties, hoping I could break myself free. But before I could make any progress, the can came to a halt, and I heard a gun cock.
“That gash in your thigh will be the least of your worries if you don’t stop,” he said.
I drew in a shuddering breath and ceased my movements. But instead of the van continuing to move, he got out of the car. I held my breath, listening to him walk around to the back, and I tried with all my might to break free.
I bent over as far as my stomach would let me go, but I couldn’t reach my legs. I twisted and turned at my restraints, trying to wear the plastic down. The pain ricocheting up my arms was fiery, robbing me of my breath as I panted in the back of the van. My little boy was kicking and tumbling now like he was trying to break free himself.
I know how you feel, my boy. I know how you feel.
I was sweating before I had to stop. The zip ties were too tight, and I could feel blood coating my wrists. I leaned back into the wall of the van as tears burned the back of my eyes. How the hell was I going to get out of this? How was I going to get back to Cade? Was he coming for me? Was he trying to find me?
Did my father even care that I was gone?
All of these questions were running through my mind. The night was silent, and the man hadn’t come back to the van yet. Had he left me to die? Was I going to starve to death out here? I had to find a way to get out. I had to find a way to get home.
If no one was coming for me, then I was going to have to do this myself.
I scooted on my ass, trying to ignore the pain coursing through my body. My hands felt along the wall as I rolled onto my knees. I got myself upright and smiled as my hands continued to run along the wall, but then I heard the opening of the back door and froze.
“I figured you’d try to be a little shit.”
He clamped his hand over my mouth as I tried to struggle against him. I felt the cool blade of that fucking knife press against my throat. I stopped in an instant as it hovered over my vein, and I knew he was about to kill me. This was the end for me. I had failed in protecting my child.
My body started to shake with fear as tears poured down my cheeks.
Without another sound, the blade was removed from my neck. I heard something shifting and zipping, then I was pulled upright. I was pulled onto my stomach as I screamed out, shouting that my child was going to get hurt if he didn’t stop.
But all the man did was laugh as he manipulated my hands.
Once the man was done, he closed the doors on me again. I scrambled to my knees, crying as I tried to move my hands to my stomach. But instead of moving where I needed them to go, they stayed right up against the door.
That fucking asshole had zip-tied me to the damn door, and all hope I had of escape drained from my body.
Just like the blood that trickled between my thighs.