Third Person POV
Tyler hung his head. His wounds were now completely healed. Though the shackles on his arms still held the sting from the tight grasp on his arms, the wound around his wrists was unwilling to heal completely. He was tired and sore from being in this position. It had been over twenty-four hours since he was brought here.
His stomach grumbled and his throat felt dry and raspy. Just thinking about food made him salivate, giving his stomach churned from the bitter taste of his own mouth. He had been here for over a day after all.
'Damn it, Blake! Where the f**k are you? I bet you went to your grandpa's house first before coming to my damn rescue.' He thought to himself smiling. A small, barely noticeable smirk on his face.
The door creaked open. Entering Tasha
