:Kidnapped: And all he say's is 'Sorry'?

Kidnapped Part 12

Hayley’s POV

It smelt like alcohol and old sweat. Like years of hardened souls and hardened hearts. Everything was harsh, every smell and taste in the air burnt my senses. I couldn’t see, I couldn’t even be sure whether it was dark, or I had blindfold on. Everything was so hazy.

 I started to clear up a little bit, now fully aware of the throb, throb, throb, on the side of my forehead, and I groaned inwardly at the thought of how that one was going to bruise.

Someone was talking, no someone was whispering. I couldn’t tell. Everything was blurry, smudging into each other, I couldn’t make out the words, but as I strained to hear, slowly I started to recognise the sounds. They were shouting, no they were talking…. to me?

I only managed to catch the last of what he said to me, his voice gruff, and abrasive, like scratchy metal scraping itself over my ears, his voice hurt, “... I mean, you really shouldn’t have, people around here aren’t going to be as nice to you as Knightly.”

I cleared my throat, testing my voice unsure if it was even still there, “...and...and...who is Knightly?” I spoke quietly and I’m sure, judging by the silence after my question, I’d taken him by surprise by finally answering back.

“What do you mean, darling. You don’t know who Knightly is. Why sweetie, he’s six foot something, dark hair, killer looks, and those baby blues to match. You sure you don’t remember him? I must have hit you harder than I thought. Why you’ve only been with him for the last week or so. Don’t tell me you don’t remember the man, who kidnapped you, he’s got that devilish charm and scars you couldn’t miss. I hope I’m jogging your memory right. Or didn’t he tell you who he really was?” I recognised his voice as the man who’d hit me over the head, he had that deep southern twang and slur that came from long lines of family. But what was he talking about? I know he’s insinuating Ryan, but who the hell is Knightly?

I was still confused, what was going on here? I could hear loud shouting from the room next door, before suddenly it went quiet and the ‘click, click’ of the door opening and closing could be heard. We must be inside Jerry’s house. My throat caught as the images from outside suddenly came rushing back and all I could do was think of Ryan and the pool of blood surrounding his head. What if he’s dead? I couldn’t live with myself. I was the liability. He wouldn’t have been in this situation if he hadn’t have been trying to protect me.

I still couldn’t see, and I felt pathetic as I called out for Ryan, “Ryan? Are you there? Please answer, I need to know you’re alright.” The tears had started to form as I said this because all my fears clouded into one, and overwhelmed me.

There was no answer. What was I going to do if he was dead? Go home to my fiancée and just pretend all this never happened? I couldn’t, I wouldn’t and I won’t ever let Ryan be just forgotten like that. But all this was hopeless; I was probably going to die. Yet, if I died, wouldn’t that make it all easier, everything would just go away? Ryan and I would be together on the other side, if that’s even what awaited us, and all my problems would dissolve. Just like that.

“He’s gone isn’t he? Dead, I mean.” I whispered.

The man who’d hit me over the head was silent for a moment before saying, “He’s gone. But don’t worry Darl, because I’m here.” He leered and I could hear his footsteps coming towards me. By now he was probably standing right in front of me.

“You’re here, great, the party can really get started,” I mumbled bitterly. My mind was reeling. I’d never see his face again, something that despite it’s flaws I loved seeing it in the morning even if he did everything to hide it from me. Or his smile, all I wanted to do with my time was drink in the beauty that came with his smile, and now he’s dead. Because of me. It was thinking of this that brought me to my next resolution, “Do it. Just do it and get it over with. I can’t live with knowing that Ryan’s gone.” I said, my throat catching on every second word.