Falling In Love With My Kidnapper

Chapter 8

"Any more orange juice, Miss Brielle?" Rosely asked.

I shook my head and smiled at her "No thank you, Rosely. Take a break."

She disappeared from the dining room without another word, leaving me to finish my fluffy delicious pancakes she had made me. I drenched them in some more syrup.

"Damien won't be home for a couple more hours." Kyle said, walking into the kitchen. He propped himself up on the counter. He was watching me eat.

I sipped my orange juice. I remember feeling uncomfortable. "What's up with him not being around much?" I asked Kyle.

"He is, most of the time. All of us tend to get very busy when we just kidnapped someone. We have to take down all posters if there is any up, take pictures, get connections, give the evidence to connections, pay the connections, kill a look-alike, drop the body somewhere, attend the funeral-"

Connections as in corrupt police officers?
I didn't dare ask.

"Dead?! What?! No! That's cruel! Why would you tell my family that I'm dead?!" I interrupted.

"Sorry sweets. Just part of the process. Don't worry, your family will know you're actually alive eventually... if you make it. But, for now they think you're dead" Kyle hopped off the counter and picked up a apple. He held it in his hand and inspected it. "Remember when you were knocked out? Yeah, we took a picture, did some touch ups and hey, you're dead! Just need the look-alike in order to show a physical body." He said before taking a bite out of the apple.

I rested my chin on the palm of my hand. I shook my head. "I can't believe this! You guys are a bunch of assholes who deserve to rot in Hell!" I exclaimed.

Kyle laughed. It scared me. He smacked the apple down next to me. The juice went flying all over my face. Bits of apple flew everywhere. "I'm serious, watch your mouth. Things won't always be pancake breakfasts and sugarplums all the time" He warned.

***

I was in the living room sitting by the crackling fireplace. I was wrapped in a blue blanket. I was passing time by thumbing through magazines before a whistle erupted from the dining room.

I looked up but decided to ignore it.

A minute later, heavy footsteps were heard upstairs, they seemed to be coming downstairs.

About twenty or so girls came rushing down. They were speed walking towards the dining room.

I looked at the girls. All different. Different skin colors, body type, and different hair color.

They did have one thing in common, they all looked tired and worn out.

It saddened me.

I wonder what was going on.

The whistle didn't have anything to do with me so I minded my own business. I returned back to the magazine.

"Psst" a voice hissed.

I looked up to see a blonde hair, blue eyed girl. She looked scared. The girl looked back and quickly back at me again "What are you doing?! They're going to kill you!" She whispered.

"Me?" I asked, curious on what I'd done wrong.

The girl didn't have a chance to respond because another girl dragged her inside the dining room.

Maybe she was talking to someone else.

I continued scanning the pages of the magazine for anything interesting, my mind continuously replaying what the blonde haired girl had said.