Red in the Blue

Chapter 23

CW: kidnapping, brief mention of blood

When I came to, it was silent. I couldn't see. No—my eyes were open. Something dark clung to my face. Stuck to my forehead. Sucked in around my nose and mouth with each inhale. The darkness over my eyes lightened, grew warm, then hot, my face hot. I squinted instinctively despite the shroud. My head ached sharply. I managed to lick my lips and open my mouth. The fabric over my face pulled in against my lips. My head hurt. I heard a groan. I could hear now. My ears were ringing. It shrieked dully in both ears. I tried to sit up, but it wasn't like that—I wasn't on the ground, I was being carried. Jostled, gripped, and buoyed haphazardly. I could hear breath above me, panting, exertion. Fingers dug into the meat of my arms and gripped my calves. I heard another groan but felt this one in my chest this time. I was groaning. We were moving fast. I tried to speak but couldn't. I tried to reach up to pull the hood from my face, but my hands wouldn't go anywhere. I tried to move again, tried again to sit up. Someone cursed, and the hands tightened. There were other sounds too. A car? Cars. Traffic. Somewhere, faintly, a bell. My ears continued to ring. James. James. I tried to say her name aloud but couldn't get it out.

My shoulders thudded down hard into something below me. My legs crumpled in over the rest of me. It was stuffy. There was a thud. It shuddered around me. It was dark. No more squinting behind the hood. No hands on me anymore. I tried to sit up and bumped my head. I tried to sit up and couldn't find my hands, couldn't get them under me. My head pounded. My hands were tied. My hands were touching each other, and they were stuck together at the wrist. I couldn't get my hands apart. My ankles too. My legs couldn't come apart. I tried to sit up and hit my head again and it hurt like fuck. My head. Everything shuddered and lurched.

My hands were in front of me. I pulled them to my hip and pushed down. There was scratchy material under me. I could feel it on my feet too—my shoes were gone. I could feel the scratchy, spongey material on my bare feet. I could feel it against my legs. It was so dark. Fucking stuffy. Hard to breathe. Hard to breathe. If I noticed that any harder, I wouldn't be able to breathe at all. James?

I was in a trunk. There was a hood over my face and my hands and ankles were bound and I was in a trunk. The car was moving. My head throbbed and my ears rang. I struggled hard against the binds on my wrist, but they didn't budge. I kicked down as hard as I could with my feet, but I couldn't pull my ankles apart either. I tried again—nothing. What did I know about being in car trunks? I squirmed around and tried to locate the taillights. There was a dull, red glow between gaps of plastic trim on my right. I wriggled around. I kicked hard at the glow but nothing happened. I kicked hard and kicked hard.

"You better stop that," a voice barked from somewhere behind me. I kicked hard again. My knees buckled but I didn't feel anything. That wasn't working. I tried to listen past that ringing in my ears, but I couldn't tell anything about where we were or where we were going. I tried to scream but nothing came out.

Most trunks have an emergency release lever. I had no clue where it would be. I couldn't see anything. I felt around. I squirmed around to give my bound hands more room and felt for that lever, but I couldn't feel it. What else could I do? I ducked my head down and pulled the fabric from over my face. It was just as dark without it and just as stuffy. I wiped my sweat away. Maybe Eric had me. Maybe everyone had been right to worry, and he had really come, and he had really taken me. There was nothing I could do but wait for the trunk to open and fight like hell.

When the car finally stopped, I had no idea how much time had passed. I hadn't heard much traffic for a while now. It was quiet after the engine cut out, and I held my breath and waited. I heard men's voices—maybe two—but couldn't make out what was said. I heard and felt car doors close. I pulled my legs into my chest and held them, coiled, waiting for the trunk to open. I waited. The voices were gone. My legs were starting to ache. Everything had started to ache. My ankles and wrists throbbed. The back of my head clenched and pounded; I had a headache everywhere. My mouth was dry. All my muscles felt sore, like I'd been working out for hours. The air was so still and so close.