Chapter 17

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Taylor

Leighton was sitting on my lap, beaming at me. She had one hand in my hair and was holding a long whip in the other.

"Hey, baby. I've been waiting for you," she purred.

I was confused. "Waiting for what? I wasn't going anywhere," I said questioningly.

Her smile grew wider.

"You were asleep. I waited patiently for you to wake up. Although you looked adorably vulnerable, I was eager for you to open your eyes."

She stroked my hair and continued, "I am going to feed you."

She got off my lap and walked towards the door, where laid a basket full of what looked like food. As she came closer, I saw that there was fruit inside the basket. She took an apple out of it and smiled.

"Open your mouth," she commanded softly.

I kept my mouth closed and just stared at her.

"Please open your mouth, baby," she said.

I did not budge and just kept staring. She looked confused.

"Will you please open your mouth for me, Taylor?" she sighed.

She became angry and cracked her whip violently. I kept my mouth shut. She whipped me once. Twice. She whipped me a third time, striking my thigh. I whimpered.

"Stop! Stop!" I yelled.

Her eyes glowered with fury. She was beyond angry. She didn't stop as I begged for mercy, and whipped me restlessly.

The pain was unbearable. Tears starting falling down my eyes as she beat me with her whip, and I completely lost my voice. She licked her lips and hit me again. My vision blurred.

I suddenly opened my eyes and realized that there was no one in the room. I just had a nightmare.

It had been four days since I was captured by Leighton and I was still tied to the mother fucking chair.

I hated that bitch. She was crazy in love with me and crazy overall. She came in here every day and spent hours in my room, trying to gain my love. She never got it. And then she would do something to me, I don't know what it was, but the next day I'd wake up feeling lost and confused. It was the same thing, over and over again, everyday. I could tell Leighton on was getting bored of this.

I needed to figure out a way to get out of here. Clearly, Leighton was a master of finding fugitives and she would torture me even more if she found me.

I was fucking miserable here. My back had gone stiff from sitting on this damned wooden chair. My legs were aching to walk again. I needed air. I needed to go outside again.

All I did was sit on a chair all day. I couldn't go anywhere, as I was tied. I would sit, and think everyday. I even had to piss myself every fucking day. All this thinking - and the smell of my own excrements - was making me go crazy. Then, Leighton came in my room with food and clean clothes. Sometimes it would be that annoying rat Kyle. Leighton would always try to convince me that we belonged together, tried to convince me that we were in love but I just didn't know it.

How could I get out of here? I didn't even know the way out, I never got out of my room once. I didn't even know how big this place was.

My thoughts drifted to Blair. How was she? Was she alive? Was she tied to a chair as well? Surely, things were uglier for her. I couldn't help but feel a little sympathy for her, even when I shouldn't.

I hated Blair sometimes, especially right now. All this was her fault. She was the one who had kidnapped me to begin with. If she hadn't been such a stupid fuck, neither of us would be here.

The KidnapperOnde as histórias ganham vida. Descobre agora