His Weakness

a*******n

**Trigger warning:  k********g/s****l Assault**

Sliding.

    The floor was moving past me in slow motion.

    Fluttering my lashes, it took a moment for me to regather my bearings, my head aching terribly.  I could barely hear myself groan as I reached for my face.  The sliding stopped and my heel hit the hardwood floor hard enough to win a whine as I tried to roll sideways, clutching my head in my palms.  God, it was painful.

    “Ah, you’re up,” I heard a man say with a thick accent.  “That was quick.”

    I glanced up at him just in time to be lifted from the floor and thrown over broad shoulders like a sack of potatoes.  The motion made me feel nauseas, new pains shooting all the way down my neck now.  I bounced against his shoulder and realized he was jogging down the steps of my house.

    The light, the voice, jacket, the pain—

    Images rushed through my mind as I recalled what had happened.  He’s taking me, I thought, my brain running back to the warning to never let a kidnapper move you from Point A to Point B.  Fight, I thought, scratching at his back, trying to find my voice.  “Stop,” I rasped, nails digging into the walls that we passed.  I tried to grab the railing at the stairs but my sweaty fingers couldn’t grasp it.

    I screamed but it was hoarse and weak.

    Scream, I thought.  Please scream.

    But my head was pounding and after swallowing hard, trying to hold back the bile rising in my throat, I finally, finally got some noise out of my throat.  As soon as I had, the crisp night air hit me and I realized it was too late.  Too late.  He jostled me roughly at the noise and, stubbornly, I screamed louder, thrashing.

    “Take her,” he growled, abruptly throwing me from himself.  I landed violently into the back of a black van, hitting my head again.  When I tried to rise, hands caught my wrists, pinning me backwards as the back hatch was slammed shut.

    Panting in the darkness, I took in three pairs of amused eyes, one of the men smiling at me in amusement.  I felt less frightened of the gun in the man’s hands than the men themselves at that moment, especially the one gripping my hands, leaning down to get a good look at me.

    The van lurched abruptly and the man in the front said, “Somebody must have tipped her off that we were coming.”

    The man with his face close to mine just grunted, staring into my eyes.  He had a nasty scar across his face and a smile that could only be described as putrid.  “You thought you got away, did you?” he asked me, his voice laced with laughter.

    I tried to pull my wrists back from him but he pulled my arms higher, extending my torso.  I shivered, remembering that I wasn’t wearing very much.  My shirt had hiked up my waist, my shorts bunched up around my thighs leaving me exposed in a way that made me nervous.  The men seemed to notice, one of them taking a step toward me and licking his lips.

    “Why?” I asked, my voice cracking with my nerves.  I was shaking like a leaf.

    “Boss,” one man said, kneeling down to my right.  I tried to move my body away from him but his hand caught my thigh, pulling me back toward him.  “This one . . . she’s different.”

    “She’s one of them, just the same,” the driver grunted back.

    “She . . . smells nice,” he said, staring down at me nervously.

    I flinched, feeling his fingers glide further up my thigh.  If my wrists were being held back, I would have slapped him.  “Stop,” I squirmed, trying to keep out of his reach.

    The third man, the one who had licked his lips earlier fell to my other side, setting his gun down on the floor.  “I smell it, too,” he said to the man next to him.

    “Don’t they give off pheromones?” the man holding my wrists asked.

    “It’s a manipulation technique,” the man driving said now.

    The man touching me pressed his hand to my lady bits and, panicked, I managed to kick him hard in the side, knocking him backwards.  The man to my right laughed at him before grabbing the leg I’d assaulted his buddy with and pushing it downward.  “I don’t know what you want,” I whimpered, feeling the nagging fear pull at me.

    “She’s such a little thing,” one said.  I couldn’t even tell which, tears clouding my already blurred vision.  I didn’t have my glasses which left me at a huge disadvantage.  Even if I managed to get away, I’d be nearly blind during the following chase.

    “God, that smell.”

    “Boss, she wants us to touch her.”

    “I mean, c’mon, just look at those eyes.”

    I let out a sob as I realized what they were talking about.  “Where are you taking me?” I whimpered, trying to ignore the hands rubbing along my thighs.

    “She’s just one of them, Boss,” one of them continued, ignoring her.

    “I call first dibs.”

    “Shut it and hurry up.”

    “Please,” I was sobbing, feeling hands grip the hem of my pants, dragging them downward.  “Please don’t.”

    “Calm down.”  It was the voice.  The one from earlier tonight.  I felt a calm forced upon me, ending the fear induced shaking of my body.  Relaxed, I watched as they pulled my pants down my legs, pushing my legs apart.  They were squabbling, I realized, all three of them complaining about who would get to hurt me first.  “Wait,” the voice commanded.

    I allowed my body to relax, trusting the voice.  I’m obviously insane.  Everything about this situation was insane.  I’m a boring seventeen year old girl.  Not even legal yet.  There is no reason for somebody to want to kidnap me.  My family has no money so they wouldn’t get a decent ransom for me and I’m horribly average so it’s not like they could sell me for a lot of money.  Though, if they were trying to sell me, they wouldn’t be trying to ruin the goods right now, right?  Aren’t virgins worth more?  I’d heard that somewhere.

    When the man holding my wrists let go of one arm to push his hand down the front of my shirt, I flinched.  He groped me painfully and I was about to whine when the voice said, “Reach for the gun.”

    The gun.

    The man’s gun.

    It was about an arm’s length away, resting on the ground to my right.

    My hand shot out just as one of the men knelt at my waist pushed his hips flush to mine, having obviously won the argument of who got to ruin the virgin.  Ignoring the sensation, I grabbed the rifle and with a grace I don’t possess, pulled it in front of myself, pulling the trigger without hesitation.

    The man flew backwards as the bullet tore through his shoulder and I stared at the gun, shocked that I'd even known how to use it.  I'd never held a gun before in my life, let alone an assault rifle.

    “s**t, that was meant for his head,” the voice in my head said.

    Before I could turn the weapon on the man to my left, the man gripping my wrists caught the barrel slamming my hand back to ground.

    “Kick,” the voice commanded and my leg made contact with the man to my lefts jaw, knocking him back against the side of the cabin with enough force knock him to the ground.

    Shouting and cussing from all sides.

    I heard the squealing of tires as the brakes were hit and before I could try to sit up, a hand caught me by the hair, smashing my head down against the ground.  I blinked, everything seeming to move in slow motion as big boots came into view.  The boss, I realized, my eyes tracking up the body of the man who had brought me here.  His face was deeply shadowed but I saw the deep set scowl on his lips twitch and watched, helpless, as he pulled out a medical needle, shoving it into my arm.

    I tried to scream but it came out more like a helpless sigh as the pain subsided and my vision blurred.  The last thing I felt was the jerk as the van started moving again.