𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐓𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐈𝐓 | 𝟏𝟖+

50 | hostage

✧✧✧

A L E X I A D A L T O N

A rough pair of hands shoves me down onto the cold wooden floor, hands still tied behind my back. I groan as my ribs collide with the ground and I wince at the aching inside my head. God knows my face probably looks like a mess.

That's when I pay attention to the throbbing in my arm. When that man shot at me, the bullet skimmed my bicep and blood trickled down the fabric of my t-shirt. The other two shots, he aimed beside my body and I could hear the gunshots ring loudly in my ears.

Now I'm in a location I don't recognise, being manhandled by Landon's men. One of them sneers at me from the door as I glance up, the taste of copper sitting on my tongue. "The boss will be with you shortly," he flashes me a smirk. "Try not to shit yourself in the process."

Then he slams the door shut and locks it from the outside. I shuffle onto my ass, groaning at the pain that rockets through every inch of my body. Trying my hardest to ignore the heaviness of my head, if I want to make it out alive, I need to remain conscious and fight my body's attempts at shutting down.

I flick my eyes over the room, grunting when I feel my socket pulsate. The room is bare, except for a tiny window at the other end with metal bars over the edges. I won't be able to get out that way unless I have a chainsaw.

My lips part and I suck down a breath, not wanting fear to consume me.

That's the first thing my father taught me. Resilience to a situation you can't control. The worst thing to do is panic, to start crying and making a scene. I need to sit back and observe, think through my options before I do anything stupid.

It might cost me my life. I might despise my parents but at least they taught me how to survive if anything happened to me–it might not be in their care but I appreciate the help and the training nonetheless.

I know Landon will be coming soon, so I shouldn't make anything obvious yet. If there is anything I can do to get out of here.

My feet press into the ground and I wobble as I finally stand, not realising how weak my legs currently feel. I take two steps to the window and peer outside, the glass is slightly distorted but I have a view of a few cars and the endless trees that surround this location.

Narrowing my eyes I attempt to get better visuals but I only curse silently as my eye throbs. I turn back away and glance around the room again, the walls are brick and the door is steel.

The perfect room to keep someone hostage I see.

When I hear a car pull up outside, I step away from the window and duck out of view. I spot Landon as he exits with a few of his guards, guns in hand. My stomach twists with nausea because I know he will be coming straight here.

I don't even want to think about what he's going to do to me.

All I know is I have to remain strong. It isn't the end yet and there is no chance I'm going to be playing the damsel in distress. He had one of his men shoot at me with Lonzo and Gabriel watching, for all I know, they think I'm dead.

No one is coming to save me. I'm my only hope.

When I start to hear footsteps echo down the hall, I rush back to the spot on the floor where I was thrown. I don't want him realising that I am able to hobble around, I want him thinking I can't fight because I'm weak.

But my mental stability right now is shining through.

This bastard isn't going to play his games with me, not when I plan on getting the fuck out of here. It isn't my time to die, I already know it.