Hidden Tracks | ✓

44 | cold hard ground

He smirked. "I know you're lying, girlie. Now come on, take it off. Take your tracker off."

I stood still, my heart beating like a jackhammer.

The second man took a step forward, the knife's tip touching the base of my throat.

"Take it off."

I shook my head, trying to remain as calm as possible. "I don't have a tracker on me. I'm not lying."

Gauthier laughed. The sound was hollow, and dangerous. "You honestly expect me to believe a detective or an agent, whatever the hell you are, doesn't have a tracker on her when she goes into missions like these?"

"If you don't take the tracker off now, I won't hesitate to use this knife," the other man spoke for the first time, clearly with an Italian accent.

I gulped, and seeing I was currently caged against the wall by two extremely strong men, armed with a knife, I realised I had no other option.

Slowly, I reached down and pulled the tracker from under my shoe. Gauthier snatched the small chip from my fingers.

He tossed it around in his hands for a few seconds, before smiling and throwing it out of the open window.

My heart sank.

Gauthier took one more step towards me, and now, he was practically nose to nose with me, his entire body flush against mine. I tried to shift and angle my head away from his, but he gripped my throat and pulled me back to face him.

"You're--you're hurting me," I managed to croak out as his hand gripped my neck even more, like a vice. My throat was closing up, I could feel myself choking. This pain wasn't the worst I'd ever experienced, but it was definitely excruciating.

Gauthier's smile was that of a psychopath. "Good." He tightened his grip around my neck, and I swear I felt my heart stop and my windpipe scream in protest. The other man laughed maniacally, and edged even closer. He took one finger and trailed it from my cheek, down my neck and started going even lower.

(TW: sexual assault)

I closed my eyes in fear and disgust. Was this seriously happening right now? Were they actually going to assault me? Rape me even?

Although I'd been on a lot of dangerous missions before, I'd never been sexually assaulted. I'd never let myself end up in that position, and this was a first. I really couldn't understand how a trained agent like me could let these vile men have an edge.

Gauthier smiled again, his dirty gaze roaming all over my body, settling particularly long on my chest. Suddenly, with a force that made me gasp, he ripped off my blazer. I instantly tried to shield my chest with my hands, but they were pinned down by the second man.

I could feel the tears threatening to come out any moment now. I couldn't believe this. How had I become this vulnerable? How had I let these men get me in a position like this, with their predatory eyes scanning me from head to toe and making my stomach coil in fear?

I still didn't give up. I tried to kick them, knee them in the crotch, I tried everything. But they already anticipated my move. The second man threw me a nasty glare and knelt down. In one single blow, he slashed his knife against my calf, creating a deep gash which made me gasp and cry out in pain. He did the same thing to my other calf, and it took everything in me not to sink down on the floor.

I could feel the blood streaming out from both my calves, and I knew I didn't have the strength to fight them with my legs anymore. The Italian man had bloodied them up too much. And they had my hands pinned, so I practically had zero hope now.