Taken, Kissed, and Loved [FREE and COMPLETED]

Chapter 3

For the second time that day, Christina woke up utterly confused. having no idea what time it was or even where she was. The bed creaked when she tried to roll over. Her eyes opened for a split second before quickly shutting again, the bright light sending a sharp spike of pain directly through her brain. What the hell? She hadn’t had such a headache ever since she drank all those tequilas at a frat party and that was years ago. She had been very careful around alcohol since then.

A quiet moan escaped her lips. Ugh, good thing Michelle isn’t here to wake her up, her loud piercing voice would make the headache ten times worse. Wait a minute… Christina froze, suddenly remembering the pink hair on the floor. “Michelle?!” She jumped up but the world around her turned into a colorful whirl, forcing her to sit back down. Her stomach joined in, threatening to evacuate its contents on the floor. Drugs. They gave her drugs. Her fingers ran over a sore spot on the shoulder.

The room was very spartan, just a bed, a simple table with two uncomfortable chairs. A metallic sink and toilet mounted on the wall, not unlike the furnishings of a police station cell. She was alone and panic was crushing her chest, barely allowing her to breathe. She sat there for a few moments, head between her knees, trying to control both her stomach and her thoughts. They didn’t kill her, did they? They kept Christina alive, which most likely meant they wanted money from their father. Killing Michelle would hardly help them. A living hostage is always better than a dead one.

But what if something went wrong? They looked really surprised when she entered the room, as if kidnapping her was not part of the plan. What if they just wanted one hostage and decided to get rid of the other one? Christina shivered in panic, a few tears escaping her eyes. No, she must think positively. Killing someone is not a good starting point for a negotiation. They are not that stupid. They can’t be. She wiped the tears with the back of her hand and sniveled. “Get it together,” she whispered to herself. She needed to be strong now.

The door had no handle on the inside. Her head still felt dizzy so she had to lean against the wall after crossing the whole length of the room. “Hey!” She banged on the thick wood. “Where’s my sister?!” Nothing happened and part of her was relieved. The thought of what is going to happen when those men come into the room was terrifying. She was fairly confident they wouldn’t just kill her, but that didn’t mean they wouldn't hurt her. Were they not responding because they were hurting Michelle right now? “Oh, please, no,” she prayed to the God she didn’t believe in.

Due to their big age difference, she has always been very protective of her little sister, often acting more as a parent than an older sister, especially when their actual parents were often busy. And then, after their mother died a few months back, Christina basically became Michelle’s stepmother in everything but the name. She would do anything to protect her, a relatively simple task at which she had just cardinally failed.

There was nothing else to do than just sit on the squeaky bed and let her mind torture her by the worst ideas about what could be happening to her sister right now and what was going to happen to her soon. She flinched when the door finally opened and a tall brown-haired man holding a small bag entered. The hazelnut eyes were unforgettable, it was him who grabbed her in the changing room and gave her the drugs.

She gulped audibly when he walked across the room and nonchalantly seated himself in one of the chairs. “W-where is my sister?” Her voice was trembling, no matter how hard she tried to control it. At least she was able to hold off the tears.

“She is fine. For now.” His face was stone-cold, she couldn’t tell whether he was telling the truth.

“I want to see her.”

He scoffed. “I don’t think you are in a position to be making demands right now. I know you are used to people running in and catering to your every need but that,” he leaned forward, his eyes hypnotizing her, “will not happen here.”

The raw hatred in his voice surprised her. It seemed he passionately hated her with every fiber of his being. But why? She was sure she had never seen him before. “I…,” she started, not really knowing what she was going to say. Her first instinct was to defend herself, argue that what he said simply wasn’t true. But arguing with someone who just kidnapped her probably wasn’t the smartest idea. Best to keep things calm and rational. “Look, I’m sure my father will pay you whatever you ask. There is no need…” The look of utter disgust on his face stopped her.

“Yes,” he sneered at her. “Because everything in your world revolves around money.”

If he didn’t kidnap them for money then what was he after? Her brain offered a variety of options, none of which were very optimistic. The cold fear was circling around her, threatening to engulf her completely. “I-I don’t…”

“Shut up.” He got up and opened his bag. “Take this.” A small piece of paper slowly descended on the sheet next to her.

Christina carefully picked it up and her eyes skimmed the lines written on it. Her brows furrowed as she did. What the actual…? This was all a bunch of nonsense. Her captor wasn’t looking at her, he was setting a very old-fashioned camera on the table, the tip of his tongue sticking out of his mouth as he concentrated. If he weren’t an evil kidnapper he would be kind of cute. THAT is what you are thinking about right now? Some cold inner voice scolded her and she had to admit it was right, it was an inappropriate thought.

“You are going to read it on the camera. Just that, nothing else.” With that, he started the camera and sat back down.

“But…” She didn’t want to defy him, just those lines made no sense.

His eyes narrowed. “Read. The. f*****g. Paper!” he growled now with a distinct threat in his voice.

Christina shivered and cleared her throat. “Dad.” Her voice wavered. Don’t start crying, just don’t start crying. She was fairly certain the man wouldn’t like that. “Me and Michelle are being held captive. Where or by who is not important. You have two days to issue a press release where you will detail your involvement in the deaths of Mary, Albert, and Laura Denning. You will also share the current location of Joan Blackwood and confess to the murder of Christopher Lowe. If these demands are met, me and Michelle will be released unharmed. If not…” She stopped and sniveled. Despite her best efforts, a few tears escaped her eyes and were now running down her cheeks. Her captor frowned and motioned her to continue. They are just words. Just read them. Like in that dumb drama class you took in high school. The one you were so horribly bad at. “If not, we will both be executed.” She closed her eyes, more tears leaving wet trails on her face. When she opened them again, the man had already packed the camera and was about to leave.

“This… doesn’t make any sense,” she whispered, certain that it was all some kind of a horrible mixup. “I am sorry but you must be mistaken.” He looked at her with such raw fury in his eyes that for a moment she was sure he would jump closer and start hitting or strangling her. After a few seconds, he turned around and banged on the door violently. When it opened he quickly slid through and left, smashing the door behind him, not saying another word.