Kidnapped

5

I groaned and opened my eyes only to clam them shut again due to the bright light flooding the room.

Wait, room?

I fluidly sat up and groaned again as my head started pounding. A deep chuckle sounded from the corner. I whip my aching head around and I find Miguel Adams is perched on the dresser.

"So she's finally awake," he mummered, scanning my face.

I quickly took in my surroundings. I was resting in a giant bed with a black and red bed spread. The room I was in was huge with beautifully decorated walls and expensive furniture. A leather couch sat in front of the biggest TV I had ever seen.

"Where am I?" I wondered aloud.

"My room," Miguel smirked. I leapt out of the bed, ignoring the spots that danced across my vision and headed for the door.

Miguel hopped off the dresser and scooped me up. He tossed me back on the bed and I landed with a thump. My head started pounding harsher and I clutch it in attempt to calm it. "You have a concussion. You've been out two days, and it's time for breakfast. Before you go however, I must tell you the rules that the other girls have already heard," he said with a stony expression.

Rules. Ugh. I rolled my eyes and announced, "Hit me with it."

Miguel raised an eyebrow and growled, "No communication with anyone outside of this building. Get along with the other girls. No complaints. Obey any thing another gang member says, but my commands rule over theirs. Train without complaint. Stay in your room at night and when we are making deals with other gangs."

"Its a deal, Lucille," I yawned, stretching out on the fluffy mattress planning which rule to break first. "What happens if we break those rules?" I grumble.

"You will be punished," He announced, face cold as stone. I froze.

"Wonderful. Just wonderful. I've always wanted to be kidnapped by a gang, get a concussion, and get told I had to follow certain rules or I'll probably die in one week. I can check this off my bucket list!" I pour as much sarcasm as I can into the sentence. I know it was risky, but I needed to see how far I could stretch the rubber band before it snapped.

He glares at me and I smirk at him. "Just come with me to eat," he said.

I get up, slowly this time so the blood doesn't rush to my head, and make my way to the door. He grips my wrist so I don't escape. His large calloused hand easily wraps around my skinny, uninjured wrist.

Miguel leads me to the dining room where all the other girls are seated around the table, most sitting their friend groups, the unlucky ones forced to sit by gang members who looked incredibly happy to be there.

When Miguel pulled me to the table it got dead silent and I felt everyones eyes roaming over my tiny frame.

"This is Heather. She will not be leaving anytime soon now that we have got her back," Miguel announced, before shoving me in a chair. I huffed and glared at the two gang members on both sides of me.

A plate full of what I assumed to be eggs and toast was dropped in front of me. The toast was black and chared and the eggs were a mush of yellow and white that didn't look fully done.

"I am not eating that," I spit.

The gang members next to me smile at me in amusement.

"Yes, you are," they both chime in at once.

I shove the plate twords the middle of the table and say, "No, I'm not."

The one on my left exclaims, "We've had this conversation too many times to count! All you rich prissy girls demand better food, but can't cook for themselves. So, if you want something different, the kitchens around the corner."