Kidnapped

Chapter 6

I woke up in the old bed, tangled in the coarse blankets. The air was cool and clammy; not very comfortable.

It was dark, but I saw a figure move on the other side of the room. For a moment, I forgot where I was and I almost screamed, but as I saw Sterling's now-familiar face, everything came rushing back to me. Like a bulldozer.

I fell backwards, closing my eyes against the sudden headache that erupted from my brain. I must have fainted last night, I realized. Sterling must have carried me to bed.

"You okay?" I opened my eyes to Sterling's worried face. His brownish-gold eyes stared into mine.

"Yeah, fine," I answered, rubbing my forehead. "I'm fine."

"Really?" He asked sarcastically. "You look pretty horrible to me."

I glared at him. "Oh, shut up," I pushed him away and sat up. There was a little light leaking in from the barred window, and I realized that it was morning. Outside, I could hear birds chirping and singing, flying about in the sky. Oh gosh, I don't know how long it had been since I'd been outside, but it felt like forever since I'd seen the sky. I missed it like crazy.

"But seriously, though," Sterling said, the worried expression appearing again. "You fainted last night, and you look like you're not much better this morning."

"Well..." I trailed off. "I do have a monster headache, and, well..."

His face softened. "I know how you feel," he sympathized. "It's how I felt after I was first brought here. You'll feel better in a day or so."

"I don't know..." I said. "Last night I--"

"You were in shock," He said. "Not to mention to fact that the drug they gave you to make sure you stayed asleep for the entire ride here has a nasty habit of messing up your brain."

"I guess."

"Besides, you'll get used to this, anyways," Sterling assured me. "Then the headache won't be so bad."

"But don't you miss your family?" I asked incredulously. I couldn't imagine how I could get used to the idea of not seeing my family ever again.

Sterling's expression hardened. He turned away, staring intently at the floor. After a short silence, I heard, "I don't need to miss them. Or love them. I never did."

Questions flared up in my head like wildfire but I pushed them down, not willing to get on Sterling's bad side. Instead, I wondered silently what he meant by his short answer.

Then something struck me. "You said that the drug they gave me was to keep me asleep for the entire ride here; how long was the ride, and where are we?" I asked, cautiously, so as to not tick him off any more.

There was another silence before he responded, but when he spoke, he sounded more like himself. "From what I've learned, we're in northern Ohio, but I'm not sure where."

My jaw dropped. I lived in northern Minnesota. It must have taken Aiden at least a day to get me to where I was now. Not to mention stops, and probably security issues.

"Why?" Sterling startled me out of my thoughts. "Where do you live?"

"Northern Minnesota, in Dakota Falls." I answered, still stunned.

His eyebrows raised, and he whistled. "You seem to be a long way from home, Missy," He said. "It must have taken them at least a day and a half to get you here." They must've given you a high dose of the drug."

"Oh, gosh," I murmured quietly. "No wonder I feel so crappy."

"Yeah, that would explain it," Sterling agreed. "But--"

Suddenly, he was cut off by the sound of a door opening and heavy steps. I dashed to the cell door, peering out through the small window. Kaden was walking past, along with Aiden and two muscular thugs. The thugs were obviously twins, with an army buzz cuts, and they both looked like they'd had a healthy dose of steroids for breakfast. With their muscles almost bursting through their shirts, and their permanent scowls, I'm pretty sure they would've had professional wrestlers running for mama.

The little gang stopped outside a cell farther down the hall. I'd noticed there were other cells, but I hadn't really thought about their inhabitants. As the thugs opened the doors, one of them entered and I heard a brief commotion, and a little kid's yells. When the dude emerged, he was holding a little boy firmly in his arms, handling the struggling form easily. I gasped sharply.

I knew the little boy.

It was Eric Ross, the son of one of the guys at my dad's work. When my dad read about him missing in the newspaper, apparently, he'd been one of those kidnapped. Eric looked horrible; his pale blonde, curly hair was messy and dirty, and his cute, ocean-blue eyes were hollowed and scared. He was crying as he struggled.

I used to baby-sit Eric every Saturday night for three and a half hours. We played games, went to the park, and then I'd put him to bed. I knew him well, and loved him like a brother. He was the sweetest little boy you could ever know, so you can tell why I was freaking out so much.

As they moved past the door, I shouted, not able to stop myself. "Eric!" I screamed. "Eric, it's me! Trixa!"

Eric turned in the dude's grip, meeting my gaze. His eyes widened in disbelief, and then hope and joy. "Trixa!" He shouted happily. Then the shout turned into helpless cries. Tears ran down his dirty face, leaving pale, clean trails. "Trixa, help me! Help! Don't let them--"

He was cut off by one of the thugs, who slapped his hand against Eric's little face. That hurt to both of us; in fact, we both screamed. "ERIC!" I exclaimed.

They were just passing the door, and I reached my hand out in fury, grabbing one of the thug's arms. I had the element of surprise on my side, thankfully, because I'm sure that if I hadn't, he would've either broken my arm or kept on moving by. But instead, he paused, looking in shock and fury at me. He just so happened to be the one holding Eric.

Eric took his chance to squirm out of the thug's arms, and dash towards my door. "Trixa!" He cried, jumping up and trying to reach my hand. We scrambled for each other's for a second, before I finally caught hold of his tiny, fragile fingers. "Trixa, help me!" He sobbed as he clutched my hand, and my heart almost broke in two. Sterling was calling me behind me, trying to grab me and hold me back, but I ignored him.

"Don't worry," I said hastily, as I could see that the thugs were making their way towards us. "It's going to be okay, it's going to be fine. You'll be fine. Do you hear me? You'll be okay, just stay safe. Stay safe, okay? You'll be okay, Eric, it'll be okay!" I comforted him, as he cried.

Suddenly, the thug was there, pulling Eric away from me. We scrabbled for each other and Eric kept calling, "Trixa, Trixa!"

Then came my second mistake. I left my hand outside, through the bars, and as the one dude carried Eric away, accompanied by Aiden, the other stayed behind, grabbing my wrist and twisting it painfully. I screamed in agony as he did. It was chaos, with Sterling yelling behind me and me screaming and Eric still crying.

I felt as if my wrist was breaking, and I saw the thug's smug look as if he enjoyed hurting me. He probably did.

Suddenly, there was Kaden, his storm-cloud eyes flashing, shouting at the thug and pushing him away. "Stop it! Don't you hear me? Stop!" He shouted, and the pain in my arm lessened immediately. I tried pulling it back through the bars, but there was still a grip on it.

The thug argued back, his hand still on mine, and his face twisted into a snarl. He was talking about something along the lines of, 'the stupid *&^%! was ^%&*$#! with me!'

Kaden's answer was easy to hear. "Does it look like I care?" He snapped. "Get back to work, you i***t!"

The grip on my arm didn't lessen.

"Now." Kaden's voice was like steel. There was some muttering, then, finally, all the pressure on my wrist lifted. I heard the thug wandering off, muttering and complaining. I was about to pull my arm back in, but, once again, someone stopped me.

Kaden had grabbed my wrist, but he was holding it carefully in his hands; firm enough so I couldn't get away, but gentle enough so that he wouldn't hurt me. He was studying it, and after a moment, he said, "It's only bruised. There's no lasting damage, so you'll be fine, don't worry. It would be good to ice it, though."

Then, with that, he walked away, leaving me gaping like an i***t.

After a second, I pulled my arm back in, and I realized that Sterling had swung me around and was looking at me intensely. "Why did you do that?" He demanded. "You don't mess with those guys; you could've been hurt much worse!"

I don't know if it was the confusion, the panic, the pain, or the after-effects of the drug, but at that moment, I just broke down. Big, fat tears rolled down my cheeks, splashing onto the floor. "I--I--" I stuttered. "I knew him, but I couldn't save him."

Sterling's expression changed from a mixture of anger and intensity to sympathy and caring. "There wasn't anything you could do."

"But--if I had just--" I broke off as the tears started falling like Niagara Falls, much to my shame. Sterling seemed to understand, and pulled me close, into his chest, hugging me.

"It's okay," He murmured, hugging me close. I sobbed into his shoulder as I felt his warm, strong arms wrap around me. I cried out everything right there: my confusion, the pain, the hate, the anger, missing my family, feeling horrible about Eric, and everything.

***

I don't know when, but somehow, I must've fallen asleep later. It was night, and I was in my bed. Sterling was beside me, and I guessed that he had probably stayed up as late as he could, watching me and comforting me, but apparently, sleep had won. He was passed out on the other bed, but the beds were close enough that he had his hand on my shoulder.

I wanted to wonder more about Kaden, but sleep was closing in fast. Just before I closed my eyes, though, I saw an instant ice pack by the door, as if someone had dropped it in through the bars.