THE GUARD DOGS (OT7)

⛓ Ch. 18: I'm Dangerous, Too

im smoking a fat joint while writing this, that's all i gotta say!
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Coughing my lungs out, I regain consciousness in a claustrophobic, dark, mildly wet space. My head pounds in pain as my wrists and ankles start to ache, a burning sensation creeping upon me as I struggle to move. Hums and groans from my vocal protest vibrate against duct tape that was slapped onto my face extending from ear to ear while I was unconscious. The moving vehicle continuously wobbles me around as I'm stuck on my left side, I sigh in relief that we haven't arrived yet to whatever destination is in mind.

'I wonder if that's beer or blood' I scoff at the fact this trunk reeks while a half wet, half dried sore spot on my hairline throbs.

Beginning to focus on the strong scent of what's definitely alcohol, I flex my hands that are bound at the wrist by duct tape behind my back. Wiggling my fingers, my nails tap the heels of my shoes, my knees bent and legs uncomfortably squished behind me.

Arching my back so that my chest and stomach stick out, my fingernails scratch the back of my shoes as I try getting ahold of it. Inching closer to the top edge of the heel, my body quivers until suddenly my right index and middle finger both hook onto the inside of my right shoes. Fingers painfully stuck between my heel and the insole, I hold my breath while contorting my body as much as I can so that I can slide my two fingers against the inside, moving closer to the front of the shoe. My middle finger slides closer to my pinky toe until it feels a sharp prick. Trembling, sweat persistently coats itself against my forehead and I force myself to ignore the sticky, sweaty, gross feeling and suffocatingly warm, toxic smelling air. I shut my eyes and focus on my breathing since I don't have much air. Flinching from a sudden slice against the tip of my middle finger, I give it all I got. Struggling to open my fingers any wider than a few millimeters, I jam them down my shoe, nails hitting the sole and I sigh out in pain and relief.

"Mmf- " My forehead slams against the hard inner trunk as the vehicle comes to an abrupt stop and then slowly starts to pick up speed again, my heart hammering against my chest.

'Never let them take you to a second location.'

I jaggedly breathe through my nose, heart rate filling my ears like a clock counting down the minutes I have left. Razor blade between my fingers, I carefully slip them out of my shoe and blink a few times. I make sure my only hope of saving myself doesn't fall out from between my now rug-burned fingers. I hold it steady, wrist shaking as I begin to slice the seemingly three layers of tape around my ankles.

'Did you not even try? Maybe rope next time?'

After minutes of working at the cheap tape, a long rrrip sound allows me to relax my body, swallow, and take a deep breath. The vehicle wobbles as it enters a new terrain and I work fast to carefully slide the razor between my heels, my knees parting as I squeeze my heels together tight. Once stiff between my shoes, I begin rubbing my bound wrists against it carefully. Taking double the time as my ankles, I finally hear a long rip again and force my wrists apart. I immediately bring my arms to my chest, stretching my sore shoulders forward as I arch my back the opposite way. I rip off the tape from my mouth, wipe away my tears, and grab a lighter from my back pocket.

Laying on my left side, my left arm is outstretched forward so that my palm can lay flat against the inside trunk to keep me from slamming around. My right hand sneaks around the pitch black until I grab ahold of a bottle. I shake it, quietly laying back down the empty bottle and search until a bottle I shake has liquid inside. Bottle finally in hand, I flick open the top of my lighter and carefully cast a small flame away from the glass bottle but close enough that I can read the words that are my saving grace in this situation.

Bacardi
151 proof

My flame goes out as the vehicle stops for a long pause and then silence overcomes the atmosphere as the engine is shut off. My body sways a bit as people get out, doors shutting loudly in pure arrogance. Eyes squeezed shut, my body tenses from the loud sudden pounding from inches above me against the outer trunk. At least I don't need to use scare tactics myself, I just get straight to the point. The trunk opens and I sit up, violently shaking the open bottle of highly flammable alcohol out onto the shocked man's face who immediately rubs at his burning eyes.

"What the fuck! What is- "

My thumb flicks against my lighter.

"Wait- don't!" Another unseen man screams out in horror from a few feet away.

I toss the lighter forward.

A traumatizing wail fills my ears as the man is engulfed in flames, flailing his arms around as the other screams, trying to find anything to put out the fire. I jump out from the trunk and begin to run, smoke filling the abandoned parking garage I take note of while frantically searching for a place to run or hide. Tears stream down my cheeks as I pass a window and take a long look out it at the miles of never ending cornfields surrounding the building. The fields glow golden from the low sun, daylight almost gone completely.

A/N
Short chapter but Ill update the boys' pov tomorrow!

Thank you everyone for the sweet comments and prayers for my mother, literally the day after so many people said they'd pray we were suddenly told she only has precancerous cells and wont need chemo!!!!!! Thank you everyone for your kindness, this news was a gift from God 🫶🏻