Nicotine | Ashton Irwin ✔

4.9

{A/N: trigger warning, foreshadowing of rape. Don't read if uncomfortable.}

Ara winced, as she tried to crawl away from her abuser. Fists balled, she dragged herself across the floor. He laughed. "Always running away, Ara." She gritted her teeth together as he brought his foot down on the back of her leg. The bone wasn't broken, but due to the fact that Chuck had shot her in the leg two weeks prior to her abduction, it hurt a lot more than she would have liked.

His footsteps faded into the background, and back up the stairs. Ara rested her head against her forearm. Pain cursed all through her body.

The door opened once more and heavy footsteps came bounding down the stairs. Ara heaved herself up into a sitting position and dragged herself a little further to hide behind a pile of boxes. She could see Chuck searching the room for her. "Oh, Ara . . . come out and play." He sang, his voice full of sick intentions. She bit her bottom lip hard enough to draw blood. She stayed quiet, not moving.

"Come on Ara, I'm not in the mood to play hide and seek."

"Fuck off." She called to him, her voice hoarse. She closed her eyes and inhaled.

Chuck laughed. "Don't be like Ara," he replied, pulling out his gun. "A deal's a deal."

"What deal?" She asked. She kept her eyes closed, fighting off exhaustion.

"I help kidnap you, Craig gets the boy . . . I get the girl."

"You got what you want!" She yelled, and the coughed. "Just . . . go away."

"Where's the fun it that?" He whispered, suddenly by her ear. Ara jumped, eyes shooting open. He placed an arm on her leg, moving it up her thigh.

"No." She said, shoving his hand away from her. Ara was tired, and she really didn't want to do this. She didn't know if she was strong enough to fight him off. Chuck gripped her arm. "Get off." She attempted to shove him, but it was a pitiful attempt. Chuck climbed onto top of her, pinning her down. Ara thrashed beneath him violently. "No! No, no, no." She began sobbing as Chuck slid his hands up her shirt. "Please, just s-stop." She cried.

"Mommy," Clary looked down at the little boy in her arms.

"Yeah?"

"Why is she screaming?" He asked, a single tear spilling down his cheek. "Make it stop."

"I can't baby, I'm sorry. I wish I could." She pulled him closer to her. "Just think of daddy, okay? After all this is over, you can see him again."

"Promise?"

"Yeah, I promise." She kissed his forehead.

"Mommy?"

"Yes baby?"

"Are you going to go away too?" Clary frowned.

"I don't know baby. I hope not. I want to stay with you."

"I want to stay with you too, mommy."

There was a knock on the door. "Time's up." Craig called.

"I love you Wes." Clary said, kissing his forehead.

"I love you to mommy." She set his down on the bed, and spun around, opening the door. She stepped out into the hall.

Clary moved past Craig but he gripped her arm. "In two days, you can take your son and leave. Go to my old house, and rip up the floorboards in Ara's room. The money for your boyfriends' bail is in there. You aren't needed anymore."

Clary's eyes widened. "Why?"

"Because the police are on to you. They've been to your apartment, and searched it. So we're moving Ara."

"Where?"

"None of your business."

"But what if they find out where you went. Don't you want me to tell you that they're coming?" She asked. Craig's expression changed. He frowned.

"Fine. We're taking her to a run down house in Lincoln, up near the old fire station. It's out of commission now, they don't use it. If they are coming or you hear any different news, use the codeword checkmate." He let go if her arm. "Get going." She hurried off downstairs.

Ara was unconscious when Clary came quickly down the stairs. Her shirt was lying some distance away from her, and he torso was bruised. Clary frowned. She pucked up Ara's shirt and, with much difficulty, put it back on her. "Ara, wake up." Clary whispered, shaking the girl. Ara groaned. "Ara, come on, stay with me." She pulled Ara up into a sitting position.

"Clary?" She mumbled.

"Yeah, it's me." Ara clutched the front of her shirt and began crying loudly. "Shh, Ara it's okay. It's okay."

"He hurt me!" She cried, dryly.

"I'm so sorry, Ara. But don't worry. You're going to see Teddy soon. I'm going to get help." She whispered the last part. Ara stopped crying a little.

"H-How?"

"In two days, they're taking you to Lincoln. To some old house. I'm taking Wes, and I'm leaving. But I'll tell Liam where he can find you."

"No! Don't leave me, please!"

"Ara, you need medical attention. It's obvious that Craig won't give it to you. You need help. You're sick, and you have gunshot wounds. You will die in here, and then what's going to happen to Teddy? Huh?" Ara started crying again.

"I just want to go home." She cried.

"You will. I promise. Just hang on a little longer. Keep fighting."

"I don't know if I can." She choked out.

"You have too, Ara!" She demanded at her. "You survived your entire life with this man, you can survive a few more days. This is child play for you."

"Clary," she said her name, much softer.

"Yeah?"

"Do you promise to go find my dad? E-Even it means that you might not be able to Quinton for awhile?" She asked. Clary stared down at Ara, her eyes wide and bloodshot. "Please." She begged. Clary ran a hand softly through Ara's hair, calming the exhausted teen down. "C-Clary . . . please."

She sighed, and averted her eyes from Ara. If she did go to the police, which was the right thing to do, she might never seen Quinton or Wesley again. But if she didn't, Ara may die. She was already sick enough as it is, and her wounds were getting infected. Clary turned her gaze back to Ara.

"I promise."