My Ruthless Kidnapper

Chapter Eight: Paralyzed

    Finn POV 

    I didn't know what had happened over the last two hours. 

    All I knew was I messed up as I sat on my couch staring at the wall.

    What was I thinking? I almost hurt her. I was disgusted with myself for what I did was something that wasn't me. 

    I was drunk, and having her in my room in those sleeveless silk nightwear, it was hard to think. I couldn't control myself, for all I saw was her pouty dark pink lips, and then I ended up not only kissing her but threatening her with a gun.

    I was mad at her, though. She wanted to kill me; she hated me to the level that she wanted to end me in my sleep. I felt betrayed. I wanted to hurt her too. I wanted to get revenge. It was what provoked me to point the gun over to her—but I knew I couldn't do anything. It was only to frighten her. And granted! I succeeded. At that moment, I was left with nothing but stress, tension and loathe, for my own self.

    I was a jerkass, I wanted to make Cheryl comfortable around me, yet I went and worsened the situation. I hated myself more than ever. 

    She was my comfort. She had the power to alleviate my long-time pain, yet I was only providing her nothing but pain and distress. 

    I wished I was a better person. I wished things were different, Cheryl! 

    I didn't have anyone to talk to at that moment, so I dialed Liam. I had to call him twice for him to pick up, for it was after five in the morning.

    "Hey? You okay?" He sounded worried.

    "Yes!" I said to assure him it wasn't about my whereabouts. 

    I heard him heave a relief sigh. "So why call this early?" He asked, annoyed.

    "I almost forced Cheryl." I blankly muttered to the receiver.

    There was a long silence before he asked. "Finn, What did you do?"

    "I don't know. I kissed her, and I—I point her a gun." I was a monster. I knew it. I might try to cover up around Cheryl, but I couldn't hide who I really am all the time. I am rotten inside. I am damaged and destroyed. The pretense wouldn't last. It is about time when she will see me for who I really was. 

    "Finn," Liam called silently. "Just talk to her?" 

    "She probably won't listen." I swallowed painfully. 

    "Try." He insisted. "We would talk about this in school, okay? Don't let Steph find out." He appended with the warning, and I knew his reasons.

    Cheryl POV

    I spent the whole night staring at the height of the ceiling—forcing myself to survive. 

    Finding out you lost both your parents at the same time by the person who also attacked you wasn't so much of a reason to sleep easily.

    I remember that Friday, Declan Carter's party—that day started beautifully just like every other day of my life, and then it led me here. 

      What exactly revenge was Finn after? Who hurts him and left me to carry the blame? I did nothing. I was innocent. Why me? 

      Why was I taking the pain? Why would he go to the limit of taking my parents away from me? 

    I was going through shock, for the thought of dad and mom laying in a pool of blood had left me emotionally parentless and ripped me open to an almost dead state. If I am being honest with myself—I know I am dead too. All that is left is waiting for my breathing to stop. 

    The memory of the day mom left plays in my head.

      I was crying on the fifth step of the staircase when she sat beside me.

      I begged her to stay, to reconsider just because I was afraid of living without her. I knew I couldn't handle it. I begged her to stay, to forgive me in case I was the reason for the sudden fell of our family.

      "Cheryl! Nothing in this world happens the way we planned it. We don't usually get what we want; the world is a messy place. I'm sorry." She kissed my hair, and with just that, she descended the stairs and left. 

      I've always refused to believe her words, I've always denied the truth behind them, I've always hated her even though she was hurting at the time. But right there on the bed, after those monstrous men had brought me back into my cage, I realized mom was right.

      The world is a messy place. 

      ***

    I heard the door creaking open, but I refused to look over. I didn't care too. Last night was intense—I was going through the shock that morning, and I could barely respond. 

      "Hey?" It was barely sunrise when I heard the disgusting voice in my head, and I instantly crawled back to a seating position. "Cheryl?" He called out again when I didn't respond to him. 

He had turned on the light, and the room was bright, just like day.

    He didn't look hurt even after the blows he received from me last night. I honestly wanted to laugh, for I knew I tried. Who knew fighting for freedom could be like that?

      "Cheryl! You okay?" If I hadn't already seen his inhuman behavior, I'd say he sounded worried, for his voice was quiet and shaky.

      I felt the mattress sunk, and the comforter shifted—I didn't attempt to move or attack him because, for once, he looked unthreatening, and for once, I was done trying.

      "Cheryl." He sat closer to me, with his interlinked fingers on his laps, watching my corpse-like figure avoiding his disgusting gaze. I hate him. I hate him. 

      "Look at me." It wasn't a command because it came out quietly and soft, and his fingers attempted to tilt my chin to face him. That got me shifting backward, for his touch was alarming.

      He swallowed and sucked in a breath after my reaction. I saw the side of him I've never witnessed, it was vulnerability and regret and what could be pleading that intensified and mixed into a single emotion in his shiny brown eyes, but I knew it was all afterward, probably for more of his pleasure, playing me like a toy.

      Finn shook his head; his eyes were glossy. "Cheryl, I kill people, I've done unforgivable things but—but I've never forced anyone." His words cracked while my tear-stained face was soullessly facing him.

      He swallowed wistfully. "Cheryl, I will never force you. That's not who I am—I—I." He looked down to the duvet with mild anger just when a drop of tear fell from his eye to my hand.

    And for a split second, I was dumbfounded at the man in front of me. Finn actually took the blame, and he felt terrible for it. If my heart weren't as hurt as it was at that moment, I'd say he wasn't wholly ruthless after all.

    Never have I thought a man like him had emotions, never had I thought a man like him had tears. His eyes were dry; they were supposed to be dry, yet they were wet.

      He took some seconds to breathe before he continued. "I hate myself more than I've ever hated anything in this world. I was drunk and... I don't, I—I never meant." He stopped himself and swallowed again.

      "I'm sorry." He sniffed and brought his eyes back to me. The wooded brown was combined with red and filled with a pool of tears.

    I knew I was dreaming... wasn't I? 

      "Peter will check the wounds." He added, staring at my wrists. My hands hurt, my foot—worst. 

    I was still shuddering, and I hated that I couldn't control it. I wanted it to stop.

      Wordlessly, I sat there while he went into a somewhat—walk-in closet that I never knew existed in the bedroom and brought out a graphical yellow long sleeve shirt. He returned to the bed, to my side, and attempted to wear it over my head, but I shoved him with a warning glance. So he did the opposite thing I never thought. He dropped the shirt next to me without persistence. 

    I ignored his present and lifted my hands to situate them into the holes, over my silk nightwear, for I was cold from the early morning chills and my horrid state. 

      Right there, I was breathing freely because I had no feelings, no emotions. I was exhausted from trying. I was only dying inside, and no one knew, no one saw. 

    The door opened, and three men showed up, one had my breakfast in the trolley, and two were armed.

      "Good morning, sir." One of the men said when they came in, giving the food delivery man more room to pass through.

      "Call Peter." Finn's voice was commanding even though I could see in his eyes he was fighting with his emotions.

      "Alright." The men unison and dismissed themselves—closing the door after them.

    And again, I was left with my ruthless Kidnapper. The room was quiet, and the air was toxic. I hate him. I wished I was braved enough to pull that trigger. 

      "I didn't kill your parents." He said silently, and that made me look over to him. 

      I didn't react though, I wasn't happy, I wasn't sad either, and I wasn't celebrating. Why will I believe him? I just stared at the ruthless man looking back at me. 

      If he did tell me that hours ago, I'd be relieved, maybe grateful, but now? I was just the way I was all morning. I was stuck in trauma, and nothing he would say was going to pull me out of it. Nothing he will say, I would believe. 

    He was a liar, a deceiver, I was sure. He had a gun pointed at my head hours ago. He promised to end my family hours ago. Why would I believe him? No! I didn't. 

      The door opened again, and I heard footsteps, but I couldn't divert my eyes away from the brown-eyed man who kidnapped and possibly killed my parents.

      "Good morning sir, I will check her up, and then I will let you know how it went." I was sure it was the doctor, for I've met him before. I've heard him talk for a while now, so his voice wasn't hard to guess.

      "Finn, what happened?" Another voice came up. It was mature and sounded angered, yet it was the first voice that called him by his name.

      Finn released a breath and disconnected our gaze. I immediately got the feeling—it was his father.

      Finn was obsessed with respect. I'm sure if it was some average man who worked for him, he'd be pulling the trigger by now, but instead, he stood up from the bed and spun to the men without as much as a glance back. I was surprised he wasn't arguing, nor was he fuming. 

      Only, what kind of father will support this kind of crime? 

      "I should be leaving for school. I have homework to submit anyway." Finn informed the man.

      That line should have surprised me too, but it didn't. I didn't care my ruthless kidnapper went to school. I didn't care he does home-works just like every other kid does, just like I used to before he took it away from me.

    My mind was stuck back at home. What was going on? How did he manage to get to my parents? But I couldn't picture them dead. I can't.

      "That would do, I will drive, and on our way, you will tell me everything about this." The voice commanded, and I didn't hear Finn oppose.

      I only heard footsteps of the men leaving the room until the door shut closed.

      "Okay, let start." Peter, the doctor said.