Aaron. [Aaron Paul]

Twenty-Four.

***GRACE'S P.O.V.***

The man says something about needing to take me to Nigeria Africa, which is so unexpected and out of the picture that I think he is joking. I choke on my laughter, trying to hold it down while I suddenly realize something. Xander is in jail; he can't get his money. There'd be no use for it.

"You know," I say out loud, swallowing the sick humor still bubbling up inside me. "Xander shouldn't know my dad is out of prison. He himself is in jail, too..." 

The man looks annoyed, exasperated, and angered all at once. Maybe I shouldn't have said anything. He had just calmed down, and so had I from the sudden news, but now I was pushing his buttons again. Well, on the other hand, he doesn't deserve my respect. Who the hell cares. 

"And Nigeria?" I scoff. "That's so unnecessary for you and for me. Like, really?! That just makes the whole thing way more complicated than it really is." I exclaim.

As I talk, I get on a roll. I think to myself that if I can get under his skin enough, he may get fed up and put my in the truck or something. That way I may be able to find a sharp object to cut these damn ropes and escape. It's a stretch, I know, but what other choice do I have?

"Aren't you the guy at the gas station? I thought you were arrested! Oh, maybe you were bailed. Were you? Because I've heard that--" I ramble on and on until he stomps his foot and walks toward me. I don't blink, but stare him dead in the eye. Without breaking eye-contact, I tighten my jaw and speak up. "Oh yeah! That's right, the man at the gas station was. . . Well, he was a hell of a lot thinner than you." I pause, getting ready to snap another mean comment when the guy seems to lose it. 

Talk about backfire. 

With his face turning red with fury, he reaches down and lifts me to my feet by my shoulder. With what seems like five steps, he has taken me from one side of the room to the other and is yanking me harshly out the door. Though with my attitude on this whole thing, I put up a good fight. I try to kick him, or sit down so he can't move me. Neither of them work. He works against my attempts my grabbing a fistful of my hair and kicking my knee back. 

I fall, but have to get back up when my hair tugs harder than I've ever felt. I let out a whimper as he practically drags me back out to the car and throws me in the back. 

"You're gonna wish you ain't never said that." 

A chill runs through me, colder than before, and I can literally do nothing as the same back is ripped over my head. Even though my saying wasn't a big deal, I still already regret it. My mouth can overpower my mind most of the time. I'm already crying, wishing for Zeke's protection or one of Aaron's safe hugs, and the evil man hasn't even hit me yet.

With one swing of his arm, his fist knocks my head to the right, causing me to fall into the wall of the van. My eyes flash white, and then my entire body aches and shivers. He takes the moment to stand up and kick my dead in the stomach with the toe of his boot, proceeding to stop out of the van and grumble "You can wait here, you little bitch."

It's not the insult I'm worried about. I'm concentrating on not dying. I sputter and cough and my lungs seem to stop working. I can barely take in quick, short breaths as I lie there on the floor, blood running down my chin. I can't really process it, but I think I sobbed Aaron's name at one point.

Is Zeke looking for me? Has he told Aaron that I am missing? Or are they both oblivious to my leaving? Are police involved? Will they be able to find out where I am?

I can only hope.

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