"𝙎tupid bitch!"
Rayne flinched as the man in front of her grabbed the ends of the mouth bind he'd taken off a few minutes ago. After being able to sweet-talk him into doing so for her, she took her chance to warn Rueben on the other side of the phone. She knew that it was going to ruin the trust that was built between the two of them, but she didn't care.
The bullet lodged into the side of the van beside her head, however, would deter her from trying again. Instead, she would sit here as the rope burned the inner parts of her lips like a good kidnappee and listen to the two guys' plans for her. As long as it meant that Rueben knew she was okay for the time being, she didn't care—her life was the least important thing that was happening.
If he knew she was fine, he would focus on the rest of the plans. He would focus on getting the warrant to search Clarke's office and he would follow the trail from there. Knowing it was a long shot was something she chose to forget about; Rueben was stubborn, but he wasn't stupid.
"Talk again," the man growled, "And the next one is in your head."
Rayne didn't move as he dragged the barrel of the gun up the curve of her neck, letting it sit on the side of her face; one wrong move, one little squeeze, and her brains will add a new decoration to the interior of the cleaner's van they had her forced into. But despite all of that—despite the fact that her hands were tied behind her back and her legs were bound at the ankles, she refused to show him any weakness.
Being around men like him her entire life had her an expert in this field. If he couldn't decipher how to get her to bend at his will, she had more in common with a sack of potatoes than a human.
"Hmph," she jutted her chin out, smiling against the rope in between her teeth.
She watched with glee as the gears in his head began to turn; she knew that she had the upper hand when he pulled the gun away from her face and moved toward his original spot—on a turned-over, orange bucket beside her.
"Hello, Rueben," the man teased, slipping back into his façade of strength.
She couldn't hear what he was responding with, nor could she tell based on the man's facial expressions. Everything he wore was either stoic or a dopey grin, nothing in between.
Taking the time to investigate her surroundings while he was distracted, she turned her head to the left and right, understanding that she was right to decipher the type of vehicle they were in. She guessed that the outside was white just due to the double back windows, open back space, and the closed-off wall of seats between the cab and where she sat up against.
She had no idea what this car was used for beforehand as everything inside of it told different stories. To her left, there were two mountain bikes, chained up to each other and mounted to keep them from flying across the space, and a few helmets. On her right, there was a series of pottery bowls and rows of unplanted seeds beside that.
If their motive lay within the four walls of this beat-up van, she was doing a poor job of figuring out exactly what that was. Though, in the back of her mind, she wasn't all that worried. Part of her knew that she was about to be brought to members that just want to kill her and her twin, but most of her knew that her other brother was part of that team. While the idea of him being on her side in front of the people he works for was lost on her, she still knew that she would not die and that was enough for her.
And on top of that, there was the chance that she'd see Matteo again.
"Hey, stupid," the man in front of her snapped in her face, bringing her back.
She turned her head and narrowed her eyes at him as he brought the phone closer to her; it was on speaker. At the same time, he looped one of his fingers through her mouth bind and pulled it back down, giving her vocal freedom once more.
Almost instantly, she opened her mouth to scream; he didn't like that.
"I wouldn't," he mused, grabbing her chin, "The phone is muted, first of all, but I want you to see something before you make the brave decision to ruin everything, okay?"
Rayne yanked her head out of his grasp.
He just laughed and turned, reaching for another object.
"What is your name?" she tested.
"Why are you interested?" he grinned, facing her again.
"I'd like to know who kidnapped me."
"Names Demetri," he got even closer, "But I'll make sure you won't forget it."
"Wh—"
Fear dripped down her forehead as if it was makeshift sweat; his breathing amped up as he got closer and tipped his nose into her hairline, swallowing her whole with a single whiff. She screwed her eyes shut and turned her head to the side, accidentally letting out a noise of displeasure.
"There it is," he cooed, "Everyone has a breaking point."
Rayne kept her head turned away from him as he unmuted the phone and lifted it back up to his lips. He talked loudly and clearly, letting her hear every teasing word of how he was taunting her; he purposely turned the phone volume to its maximum so she could hear Rueben's reaction.
It was unsettling to realize how easily she fell apart for him, but she knew that blaming herself for her trauma responses was only going to make her deteriorate. It was not her fault that the person in front of her knew that she had a past of sexual assault; it was not her fault that her father was more than likely entangled with him while he was still alive, giving him the ins to what affects her.
That was made clear when he brushed her hair with his fingers, when he breathed heavily and hotly across her cheeks and in her ears, and when he ran the pads of his fingertips underneath the areas where the fabric of her clothing stopped.
"Just stop!" Rueben yelled from the other side, "What do you want? I'll do anything!"
"Anything, huh?" Demetri played, "Before we get there, let me ask your bride-to-be what she wants."
He pressed mute again and dropped the phone into his lap, ignoring the pleas and questions of concern that Rueben was still shouting into the receiver. Instead, he focused his attention on her; he dropped his hand from her face and handed her the object he reached for a few minutes ago.
Placing it in her lap, Rayne lifted her knees to keep it from sliding off with the movement of the van; they must be on a dirt road or a rocky one at least with all of the swaying motions.
Focusing on the image, her eyebrows skyrocketed.
Pictured on the tablet in front of her was none other than the point of view of a sniper. In the target range were three people she couldn't bear to lose, nor could see the others' pain if one of them were to die because of her disobedience.
She watched the way Rueben's hair fluttered in the wind, and the way Mason's hand moved up and down his back to provide comfort; her eyes began to pool when she noticed the look of pure terror on Isaac's face and the way his mouth moved rapidly, probably trying to convince them to go find a hiding spot—he was always the logical one out of them.
"You're going to break up with Rueben Torres."
Rayne snapped her head to the side and looked at him with wide, confused eyes; out of everything that he was going to say to convince him to save her life, that was not in the options. She would do anything for the three of them, even share herself with pigs if it meant they were okay—but breaking up with the one person who has made her complete?—it was simply out of the question.
"And if I say no."
"You won't," he snapped back the tablet.
"Why's that?"
Demetri chuckled as he set it up so she could still see the imaging. As he did that, the car jolted some more, awkwardly shifting her around. In the process, her fingers grazed something sharp; upon further investigation, she recognized it as a spring poking out of the chair's cushioning.
She did her best to not give away her new prize on her face as she felt up the edge of it with her finger; the spring was dull, but with enough time wasted, she knew she'd be able to loosen the rope around her hands enough to get out from underneath them. So, quickly, as he began to turn around, she shifted in her spot, using the heels on her shoes to boost her up.
Got it.
A small sliver of hope entered her bloodstream.
There was a chance for her to get her cake and eat it too—she could very well manipulate the narrative, play along, and win this in the long run. The only problem was that in order to do so, she'd have to go through with what Demetri is commanding her to. Breaking up with Rueben in general is such a heavy ask of her, but breaking his heart was like purposely pouring poison down his throat.
But she knew this game.
Mason and Kai were examples she wasn't about to follow.
"Because if you don't do what we ask of you, we'll kill more than just that secretaries boyfriend."
Her blood went cold.
"What are you talking about?"
"Oh, c'mon, little Rayne," he teased, "You didn't seriously think that after she died, he wouldn't try to seek you out for some restitution?—did you? Well, I'll answer that," he titled his head to the side and released a bastardly smile, "He yelled wicked things about you to your soon-to-be ex's face, right before that cool boss of mine shot him in the head," he mimicked a gun on hers, "Boom—lights out."
Horror must have been etched across her cheeks because he moved away from her and let out a cackle. She lowered her eyes to the base of the floor, keeping up with the antics as she continued to rub the rope against the spring. Yeah—while she may be terrified of the guy in front of her, and mournful of the confirmed two dead people, one unconfirmed, she was, in reality, using that as fuel.
Motivation.
"Have you ever been in love?"
Rayne lifted her head and met with his eyes, not caring that they grew frozen within a second. She knew that if she was going to accomplish getting out of here, she needed to buy more time than what she was currently doing, and everyone knows that the quickest way into someone's mind is through their heart. Everyone knows that no matter how much one acts as if they are heartless, it is an unstoppable organ that leaves no merciless survivors.
"Shut up," he narrowed his eyes.
"So you have, then."
She remained as falsely defiant as she could muster, staring him in the eyes, all while reminding herself that this was for the bigger picture. On one side of things, if she stayed, she could help Matteo, but could she?—would she really be able to do anything under such a pressuring hand? And of course, on the other, she could return to her ungated life and bring it all.
No more running away.
This time, she'll bring the fight to them.
"What was her name?" she asked when he didn't respond.
"He was a boy."
She did her best to not show the surprise on her face.
"What was he like?"
Demetri turned away, but answered, "He was smart and gentle. Kind and wonderful—something you would know nothing of. Regardless of the lives we built for ourselves, he always made sure to bring some light into our darkness. My personality never held a candle to his, yet it was me he returned to at night. It was me who shared a bed with him and it was me who he shared his life with."
"Was?"
"Yeah," he said quietly, "—until Kaedyn Alveréz murdered him."
Rayne had time to let out a gasp before he whipped around and grabbed the front of her face again; he did not hesitate to drag his sharp, metal blade across her cheek—from her ear to her lips—in such a fast fashion, that he was withdrawing just as she wrapped her head around what just happened.
Tears flooded her eyes as blood poured down her chin; moving her cheek felt like a rock being pounded into her face, and yet she knew he did it on purpose—after all, her main usefulness is to break up with Rueben and that could only be done by talking.
Demetri grabbed a handful of her hair, yanking her head back; she let out a small cry as the tip impaled the soft, flat area, rendering her useless.
"Don't you ever try to win me over with something as pathetic as a sob story. You should be lucky that my anger isn't toward your hubby because if I wanted to, in two seconds I could have his wounded bird dead and in the ground," his lip curled, "He would spend his entire life searching for your body and he would never find your remains."
"I-I'm so-sorr—"
"Try to play me again, and I'll make that a reality, Rayne Miller," the words falling off his tongue twisted disgusting as his voice grew deeper, "Break up with Rueben and make it believable, or my boss will make sure he, as well as Isaac Mikelson and Mason Everett, are taken out—and trust me when I say he's so fast, they won't be able to process the deaths of their little group before they're crumpling to the ground right alongside them, hmm."
"O-okay," she shut her eyes, letting the tears slide, "I'll do it."
Demetri performed another grin and removed the blade, flipping it across his fingers, "Good."
She let out a breath of relief as he turned from her and went to grab the phone; at the same time, the back of his head shot in her direction, half of the rope snapped suddenly. She coughed loudly in response to hide the fact that she just let out a breathy sound.
He glared at her, returning, as she kept coughing.
"Sorry," she said once she relaxed, "I choked on my own spit."
"Do you think I'm stupid?"
"No," she answered honestly.
"You better not try to fool me, little girl," he pointed the blade at her again.
"I'm not," she shook her head, wincing in pain, "Just because you have an easy time understanding that the person you love is no longer in your sights, doesn't mean I do. Even if you're not capable, I have human emotions; I love him and you're forcing me to pretend as if I don't."
He studied her grim expression for a second before rolling his eyes and paying attention to the phone and not her. She continued to slowly move her hands up and down against the spring, smartly using the bumps in the road as cover-ups for her movement.
"The guest of honor would like to speak with you," Demetri spoke into the phone.
"What? What's happening?" Rueben's shrill voice pierced her directly through the heart.
He moved the phone close to her mouth and nodded his head.
"Hi, Rueben," she said lightly.
"Oh my god, Rayne!—are you okay? Are you hurt? Did he touch you? Where are you, can you please tell me where you are so I can get you?—I'm so sorry you got caught up in this—"
She closed her eyes and slowly inhaled, tuning out his frantic questions for just a second.
I can do this.
It's just temporary.
"I'm fine," she cut him off, "Actually, I'm more than fine."
"Wait," he paused, "...what??"
"I don't need you to come looking for me, but you should know I'm perfectly okay. Demetri and I have been getting along really well since he picked me up at the office."
The phone went quiet for a while.
Maybe too long.
"Rayne, baby, my beautiful girl—I don't understand."
"Enzo offered me a deal," she shoved down the lump in her throat, "He told me that he could protect me and that I would be okay and left alone if I went with him. We're family, y'know?"
"What are you saying—?"
"I'm saying I don't need you anymore, Rueben. Thanks for getting me where I am, but I've found the people I need now. I don't need your suffocating attention and overprotectiveness. I don't need your stupid bodyguards, and I don't need your dumb little friend group. Enzo is the only person in this world that understands me, and now I have him and Demetri."
"Did you hit your head?"
"No!" she raised her voice, "I didn't! I just don't fucking love you, okay?!"
Demetri gave her more nods, but she wasn't paying attention to him. All she heard was the deafening sound of his silence, the breaking of his heart, and the destruction of something they were working so hard to build together. All she felt was the rope rubbing her wrists sore and the splinters of this cruel world tearing her apart.
"I .. I .." Rueben's voice shook, "Rayne, why is this happening now? Did I do something? If I did, tell me what I did and I will fix it for you. I will do anything for you, but I cannot fucking live without you, do you understand me! Don't do this, baby, please, I can't, I can't—I just can't! I know I have my issues and I know I'm a pain in the fucking ass but that doesn't change how I feel about you."
"Well, it changes how I feel," she said painfully, "I can't handle you anymore. I can't keep pretending like what we have is worthwhile, okay?—every time you touch me, I feel sick to my stomach. You know I have issues with sex, and yet you're consistently wanting it and making fucking jokes and saying innuendos and it's disgusting! I fake everything with you so much, I cry myself to sleep long after you're already peacefully doing so. I don't love you, I'll never love you, so just stop it!"
"Rayne—"
"You and I have never been anything more than a client and a lawyer. From day one, I tried to get you to see that and you never wanted to. I never wanted to be your yellow, and I never wanted to be with you romantically, but you pushed so much I thought I had to say yes!"
She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply as she finished her sentence.
Praying to a God she didn't believe in, she wished for two things. One, for this rope to snap completely, and two for him to remember their safe word yellow and to pick up on it in this context.
She didn't have to pray for him to know that she would never say such things—she believed in their love and its deepness.
"I see," he finally whispered, "So that's it then? You're going to run off with Enzo."
"That's it. Don't chase me—I don't want you."
"I don't believe that."
"I didn't tell you this to garnish your beliefs, Rueben. I told you because I'm leaving."
"No—"
"Goodbye."
Demetri hung up as soon as she finished that word. He grinned at her, praising her with nothing more than a look, but she turned away and looked elsewhere. It was one thing to be in this mess, but it was a totally different field to be here and have love intertwined.
Rueben was going to break himself apart to find out what he did wrong; he'll tell himself that he shouldn't have mixed business with pleasure at the same time he was going to remember everything they shared and hate himself for it.
She knew she was going too far by speaking about their intimate moments, but she knew it was the part of the statement that would make it believable to Demetri; he already knew from the beginning that she was iffy about it, so she knew she sold the narrative well.
Turning back to him, she watched as the feed died off and the connection went out, the last thing being seen was the sniper packing his bag. For that, she breathed easier.
This second part would not be so smooth.
"So," Demetri got close to her again, "Where were we?"
Rayne let out a groan of disgust as he closed the gap between them and kissed her mouth hard, shoving her back into the seat. She did her best to yank her face away from his, but he grabbed the back of her head and kept the grip tight, not letting her escape from him.
More whimpers accidentally fell victim from her lips as he moved his hands up and down her breasts, squeezing them, playing with them, until he got bored and dropped them between her legs. She pressed her heels into the ground, still struggling, and attempted to back herself up. With one final motion, the rope on her hands snapped and the sole of her shoe found the front of his thigh.
She launched him off her, breathing heavily.
It took only three seconds for Demetri to recover.
"Oh, do I like my women feisty."
"Yeah, I'm sure you do prick!"
"Quit moving around in there!" the driver shouted.
They ignored him.
Rayne ripped her hand free from the bondage and landed a punch on the side of his face, stunning him. He flew to the other side of the carrier, falling into a pile; using the few minutes of freedom she had, she undid the rope on her ankles, giving herself full mobility again.
"Oh, you're going to regret that, bitch," he wiped his mouth, getting up.
She held her fists out in front of her, "Then make me."
Demetri took that fully to heart; he ran at her—she thought he was going for her face, but at the last second, he dropped down, forcing a miss out of her, and aimed for her legs. Rayne fell against the compartment with a thud, groaning in pain as his hand slapped the cut on her cheek and the rest of his body weight pounded her down.
With the breath now out of her lungs and a struggle permanently listed in his bones, she attempted to roll over and crawl away, but he wasn't going to let her off so simply. He grabbed her ankle and pulled her back, not hesitating to snake his hand under her waist once she was close enough. He slammed her head to the floor at the same time he lifted her ass into the air; the force of the blow wounded her enough that she began to see stars.
"Pathetic," he spat, "To think you'd put up a fight."
Rayne blinked slowly, knowing by the sound of his buckle that she was not going home to her boyfriend—she was not going to run into his arms and hide under the covers. She wasn't going to share herself with her other half only to cuddle in the warmth of his beautiful persona moment after it was done. As the zipper rolled down its teeth, she knew that the past was repeating itself.
No matter how many times she tries to convince herself otherwise, she was a mere damsel in distress, too busy causing problems to realize she was the biggest one.
Hope poured out of her soul as he gripped the ends of her skirt and tugged up. But that's when she saw it. When she felt her flesh hit the air, that's when she began to reach for it. When his greedy, disgusting fingers moved to pull his dick out—that's when her own wrapped around its black base.
His gun.
"Shi—"
Demetri noticed as soon as she grabbed it. Giving him no time to react, either way, she pulled one of her legs out and placed her calf at level with his pelvis. Then, using everything she's learned, flipped fast, using her body weight and the momentum to knock him back on his ass.
Kicking away from him, she sat up and aimed the gun at his head.
And pulled the trigger—
—except, it didn't fire.
Rayne's eyes swelled as she looked down; it's jammed!
Demetri let out a cackle from the corner he was shoved into; when his head lifted, she could see the blood dripping down the side of his face, cut up from the numerous bike chains. Still, she wouldn't let him win; as he climbed out, she unloaded the gun, cocked it back, cleared the jammed shell, and put it all together.
If only she had been a beat faster.
She lowered the gun back and fired, but Demetri was a step ahead of her. The moment she fired, he smacked the base of the gun, sending the stray bullet flying. She ducked, still holding onto the gun as it flew around the interior.
When she heard the groan from the front seat, she knew it was all over.
"Fuck!" Demetri screamed.
At that moment, the wheels cut out, sending the car tumbling. Demetri flew into the roof of the car, twisting and turning with the movement of the crash alongside her. Rayne felt the burn of her cut each time her cheek slammed against the white, metal sides, but unlike him, she was the one ahead of him. She knew that a helmet would come in handy, and the moment the bullet was loose, she grabbed one and strapped it on.
Demetri hadn't been smart enough to take one himself.
Though, it wouldn't protect her entirely.
For the next several minutes, the car rolled on its side, tossing, and thrashing her. Her vision went blurry and then came back, only for her body to replace that pain with a heavy ringing.
It wasn't until it came to its last roll, did she catch her breath.
It wasn't until the bikes kept Demetri down, the soil from the plants stained her skin, and the blood of the driver seeped across the windows, did she know she won.
Huffing and falling to her knees, she scattered around for his phone.
When her hands found it, she lasted a minute talking to 911 before she fainted— she was out cold.