His expression changed as if I had grown two heads. "You heard me! Send him in here!"
He was stunned; his voice bleak, "Are you insane?"
I scoffed at him frustratedly, "Yes. Yes, you know what, I'm fucking insane. Now go get him."
He stared at me incredulously for a moment until it finally sunk in what I was telling him to do. He shut the door and leaned back against it, as if trying to make a point that he wasn't leaving, "No way in hell. He will kill you."
"And I swear to god I'll kill you if you don't listen to me."
"Christ Quinn just calm down, I understand that-"
"You understand what? Honestly, what do you understand? Get the hell out and find Alex." I shouted at him.
He rubbed his forehead, "For Christ's sake..." He muttered.
"Dominic! Get him!"
He threw his hands up, "Fine, fine." He snapped impatiently.
He left and sure enough, the deviously grinning monster strolled in a few minutes later. He shut the door behind him, lying down on the bed with his elbow propped up, "What's up babe?"
I glared at him harshly, "Don't you dare call me that."
He laughed in surprise and amusement, raising an eyebrow, "A little moody, are we?"
For a moment, I was so stunned with hatred that I couldn't speak. I couldn't force any words out of my mouth as I stared at him, looking at him closely. I watched how his dark fiery red hair fell over his icy blue eyes in messy bangs, light freckles dotted under his eyes although his hair wasn't possibly natural. I was floored as to how the attractive grinning young adult could be so treacherously monstrous. "I'm done with you." I hissed, trembling in anger.
He only laughed, attempting at stroking my hair yet I slapped his hand away hatefully. It was only then that he realized how angry I was.
He smirked, leaning against the headboard, "That's too bad, isn't it?"
"Let me go or kill me. Your choice." I snapped coldly.
Stop.
It was all my mind was screaming; stop talking, stop these suicidal rants but I couldn't. My common sense had vanished along with my sanity and dignity, and I was going to make the bastard pay. "Well that's a bit extreme."
"This is extreme! You can't keep expecting me to give in to this! Kidnapping, torturing, traumatizing, that's extreme!"
His eyes grew darker with every word I spoke, and his next words were in a warning tone, "Quinn I've been fairly lenient and generous to let you have over a month of peace, it'd be smart of you to appreciate it and behave." He said sharply.
"Fuck this! You don't own me and I'm sick of acting like you do!"
In seconds, he had pinned me down with my wrists at my sides; I yelped in pain as he put pressure on my ankle, "You're not done being anything unless I say so. Shut your mouth or I swear you'll regret it Quinn."
I struggled furiously, "I hate you! I hate you!"
He grabbed my chin roughly, sending me a dark look, "I won't ask again."
"Neither will I!"
It was evident those weren't the words he had wanted to hear; I hadn't been able to move before he kicked me in the leg, causing me to shriek in pain but somehow, my anger didn't seem to run out. "Stop it, you coward!" I screamed at him.
He slipped his hand into his pocket, pressing me harder against the bed as he pulled out his switchblade. He spoke menacingly, "I can do so much more damage than Blake, I don't think you would want to see that sweetheart."
He sent me a glare and I sent one back; I wasn't capable of backing down as my heart raced wildly and the adrenaline pumped through every inch of my body. As he realized I wasn't giving up, I expected him to dig the knife into my arm yet he only lifted it away from my neck for a few moments. His other hand unexpectedly glided down my side and stopped at my shorts. I shouted at him furiously as he tried to take them off, but the knife was instantly pressed against my neck again, "Ah ah, see what I mean?" He mocked tauntingly.
"You're disgusting." I hissed, finding it hard to breathe as he pinned me down.
He glared down at me and in those exact seconds, I wondered if he'd truly kill me. It was more than plausible, more than easy, more than expected. My gaze was filled with the burning contempt that I held in my mind for him, determined not to break under his gaze. There was the intense seconds of him holding the knife against my throat until I snapped angrily, "Do it then. Just do it you coward!"
His glare became harsher for a few moments before he leaned down, hissing in my ear, "But that'd be too easy."
He shifted his weight and just as I thought he was getting up, he hit me across the face. Not a slap, not even a punch. A hit with such strength that it could've, should've knocked me out.
I didn't even cry out, just sat there motionless in shock and anger. He grabbed me by the neck of my shirt and yanked me up, "I don't want to hear another goddamn word of this, understood?"
He dropped me back down before I answered and left, slamming the door closed.
I couldn't do it.
I couldn't sit there, every second feeling like my sanity was vanishing. I tried to make the anger go away, I really did; I tried to think clearly, without venomous hatred pulsing through my veins.
The only calm thing throughout my entire brain was the thought of home. My parents. My life.
It brought a high of emotions; a warm feeling, the feeling of safety. But that high came crashing down, knowing that I hadn't been able to escape. Knowing that they were winning, that I couldn't do anything to protect myself. I didn't know if I ever could.
I sat straight up, glaring at the window. Nearly impossible. It was high, small and locked.
I didn't care.
I glanced behind me at the desk with the small stool, assuming it was the best I was going to get. I spent moments ravaging through every nook and cranny of the room, searching until I found some old, rusty paper clips in the desk.
I stopped as I felt a few tears streaming down my face. Escape was nearly hopeless, I unfortunately realized it full well. I'd hurt myself, be caught, and in turn, most likely be killed off by Alex or Blake. I froze at a realization.
I was dead either way.
I forced myself not to cry out as I began dragging the tiny yet heavy stool across the room, wincing every step of the way. Eventually I succeeded, though the only thing I was capable of was collapsing onto it, catching my breath and resting my ankle. It wasn't long before I forced myself back up, regardless of the pain; I didn't have that much time and I knew it.
Clutching the paper clips in my hand, I hesitantly clambered up onto the stool. I realized at that exact moment, I had never been more thankful to have Adrianna Rowe as a best friend. She'd dragged me through every rebellious, mischievous plan she could think of and was the sole reason that I knew how to pick locks.
Or, at least, used to. It'd been a common routine that was now old and partially forgotten. I was fairly certain that I had probably been drunk at the time she had shown me, not helping the situation.
Even still, the memories brought me hope and motivation to keep going, even as I grew so frustrated I was tempted to throw the paper clips down. I worked as best as I could; avoiding the thought that anyone could step in and find me. Essentially, I avoided absolutely any thought that may have crossed my mind and distracted me from the present task.
I gaped down at the lock as I suddenly realized I had managed to open it. A hand flew to my mouth in shock, as well as preventing the noise of the small sob I let out. I stared at it for another moment before vigorously shaking my head; an open window wasn't enough to get me out of here.
I cringed as I realized that opening the window would most likely be the least of my problems. Slowly, I placed my hand on the latch and began to pull the window up, though it obviously hadn't been opened in ages. It was old, creaky and every movement sent a shrill squeak that sounded like a gunshot in my ears. It was probably midnight and I didn't assume that any of them were heavy sleepers.
I let out a sigh of relief as I managed to prop it open, waiting a moment until determining no one was going to storm through the door. Even still, I glanced back at it as I bit my lip. I forced the fears from my mind and looked back at the window, taking a deep breath. I pushed the screen out, clattering down on the ground. Sticking my head out, I glanced at the ground. It was about a six foot drop, yet I knew I wouldn't be able to control how I fell because of what a task it would be to simply climb out the window. I was going to hurt my ankle more.
Bracing myself, I slowly hooked my better leg on the ledge, turning around to dangle it out the window. Wincing, I lifted my left leg and placed it on the edge as well, steadying myself by holding onto the stool. Breathing heavy, I managed to get both legs dangling from the window. Trying to move myself further down to the ground, my breathing hitched in my breath as I started to panic. Everything was relying on these sole moments. I thought I heard something down the hall, causing me to lose my grip, my hands slipping from the ledge. I couldn't help the shriek of pain as I landed on my ankle, immediately crashing onto the ground. Tears freely poured from my eyes as I clamped my hand over my mouth, moaning in pain as I gingerly ran a hand over my ankle. Sobbing and frightened, I looked around. I couldn't see anything. It was too dark, though I saw the outline of trees ahead of me, leading into the forest. I tried to move but all it caused was for me to sob out in pain, crying harder. I was nearly hyperventilating now, on the verge of a panic attack but I stopped myself; I was outside.
This could be it.
I used the side of the cabin to steadily climb back to my feet, cursing and wincing as I went along. I forced myself to take a deep breath, slowly beginning to limp towards the closest tree. Though it was only ten or fifteen feet away, I was out of breath by the time I reached it. I wrapped my arm around the thick trunk, trying to take the pressure off of my ankle. I closed my eyes, picturing everything that I had ever cared about in my life. I pictured getting it all back, and it kept me going. I heard my mother laughing and took another step. I saw my father smiling humbly and moved again. I saw my life and I didn't stop.
I realized that I must've been moving for at least thirty minutes because by the time I turned around, the cabin lights were in the distance. It gave me just enough reassurance to turn around and keep going, but I paused.
I heard shouting.
They were muffled and too far to hear, but it was a harsh, violently angry voice that I could only assume as Alex. I cringed as I heard a door whipping open, and I watched in horror as four figures began running from the cabin. I cowered back and covered my mouth before any small sob could escape, paralyzing fear taking over my body. They were coming.
I shut my eyes closed, mumbling reassurance in my mind. I'd made it this far. And hell, even if I didn't make it out of this forest, I'd never given in. I turned around and kept stumbling through the darkness, careful to take in my surroundings. I only made it for another ten minutes before I knew I had to rest my ankle. I wouldn't make it if I kept walking. It terrified me to stop, but it terrified me to think that I may have very well started screaming in pain.
I sat next to a tree, trying to calm my breathing when I nearly jumped out of my skin. There was a light ahead. I crouched down as low as possible, trembling as I recognized Blake holding onto the flashlight. I held my breath as I watched him walk around with the flashlight, though he wasn't pointing it my way and he was a good thirty feet away. It wasn't likely he'd see me.
I waited through the agonizingly long minutes of him searching until he began walking again, heading the opposite direction of me. I waited until I could hardly see his flashlight.
Shakily, I stood up and turned around, flinching in fear as I caught a glimpse of another flashlight.
He was standing directly in front of me.
I swore with the slightest breath, Alex would sense I was standing only a few feet behind him. I'd never sensed more immediate, harsh fear than as I looked at him. He had his back turned, waving his flashlight around slightly as he stood motionless.
Shaking violently, I began backing away, holding my breath. The danger of those moments were terrifying; any single slip, any fall, any sob would be heard and identified. I kept walking backwards at a slow pace, watching as he began walking forwards. We were walking in opposite directions. I closed my eyes for a moment, thankful as I continued backing away until I suddenly ran into something.
I knew immediately it wasn't a tree I had run into.
I covered my mouth to prevent the scream that left my lips, whirling around fearfully as I realized who was standing in front of me. My eyes widened as I stumbled back a step, deep devastation hitting me hard. It was Dominic.
I didn't bother hiding the tears that fell down my face as I looked up at him. I didn't bother hiding the shakes, my quivering lip.
This was it.
I lowered my eyes as I focused on avoiding the absolute breakdown that was only seconds away. I waited for him to snatch my arm, dragging me back to that cabin where Alex would create whatever torture he could before allowing Blake to kill me. There wouldn't be any hope. There wouldn't even be a prayer; there'd be the devastating loss of realizing I'd never go home. I wouldn't hear my mother laugh again, I wouldn't break any rules with Adrianna again.
I'd be killed and they wouldn't ever know what had even happened to me.
It brought so much pain that I forced myself to look up, demand why he wouldn't get it over with. He glared at me. He looked down at me with anger, harshness but I saw something I'd never recognized so clearly in his eyes. Such a look of being immensely conflicted. I locked eyes because I wasn't capable of doing anything else, I watched every emotion clearly flicker in his eyes. I watched them soften, only to harden a few moments later. He was so conflicted that I realized his lip was nearly quivering.
Abruptly, Dominic turned around. His back facing me, he began walking straight.
Walking away from me.
Still shaking violently, I gaped at him, eyes wide until it struck me.
He let me go.
I could hardly process the idea but once I did, I quickly turned around, hurrying away. He continued walking, never looking back; not calling out to Alex or Blake.
I didn't allow myself to consider what had just happened because I knew it'd overwhelm me. I only focused on the flashlights, carefully avoiding them. After hours, they began to fade. Hours after that, there wasn't a single flashlight visible and the sun was beginning to rise. It scared me to know that they wouldn't give up so easily.
I walked until my feet bled and the sun was visible, burning my eyes and making my head spin.
I lied down, passing out in a bush of complete exhaustion.
A pained moan escaped my lips as consciousness drifted back, I could hardly move. I was sore as all hell, but the moment I recognized something, my eyes shot open.
I wasn't back at the cabin.
I was out.
I had made it... I stopped myself. I hadn't made it yet. I knew damn well I wouldn't have made it until I had my parents' arms around me. My mind recapped the night, pausing abruptly when I thought of Dominic. He had actually let me go. The thought stunned me, but I realized that I didn't have time to be thinking it over. The sun was already beating on me, I was sore and still exhausted. I needed to find help, I needed to truly escape before I let any harmful thought haunt my mind.
Though I tried to stay quiet out of fear, I couldn't help cry out in pain as I stumbled onto my feet. I took a deep breath, reminding myself what I was fighting for and continued. I used the trees to steady my balance, moving trunk to trunk for what must've been an hour until I saw what was up ahead.
There was a road in front of me.
I nearly let out a shaky laugh; something so familiar seeming so comforting. No matter how thankful I was, I didn't dare approach it. Alex and Blake could've so easily been driving, looking for me and I wasn't going to risk it.
Instead, I chose to move alongside it, letting it lead me to something that would hopefully assure freedom.
I walked all day, yet with no way of telling the time. I could only watch the sun move across the sky, burning my eyes even as I looked at the ground. I hadn't eaten a thing since I had arrived at the cabin, which now was nearly two days ago, and I'd only had a glass of water yesterday.
The mix of the stress, lack of energy and water and a sprained ankle made for a pure hell of a walk. It hurt, badly, but I never once considered that it wouldn't be worth it. They could've broken my legs and I'd still had chosen to walk all of those miles.
Even still, I began fading.
Slowly at first, enough to deal with. Only a migraine and the expected soreness of my body. Then, the migraine felt enough to make me dizzy and I became nauseas. Eventually my vision was growing blurry and I knew I wouldn't hold onto consciousness for long. It terrified me. If I passed out, I hardly knew if when I woke up I'd be able to keep walking. I probably wouldn't. I'd be stranded, I'd-
I nearly fainted.
Not out of fear, not even out of happiness; out of pure shock. There was a building up ahead.
Forcing myself out of my stupor, I began limping towards it as my vision blacked out momentarily, coming back in a few seconds. Every movement was now sending unbearable shots of pain through my legs but I didn't stop. I wouldn't. I couldn't.
I walked across a nearly empty parking lot, somewhere in my mind registering it was some kind of town hall that I was seeing; I didn't care. There were people there. I was too drowsy to pay attention to absolutely anything else.
I stumbled through the large wooden doors, knowing I was dangling over the edge of consciousness. I held my head in my hands as I stood at the doorway, praying not to pass out.
I was too dazed to hear exactly what was going on; voices, sharp gasps, feet clattering against marble tile. I let out a shrill shriek as I felt an arm on my shoulder, opening my eyes to see a middle aged man, fancily dressed and the most bewildered expression on his face. It took me minutes to recognize he was speaking. "Q-Quinn, Quinn M-McAdams." I answered.
He nodded, shouting over his shoulder towards what looked like a secretary. I flinched as I realized I was surrounded by at least five people, but my head was already spinning too much to notice. I was thankfully sat on a chair when questions poured out of the strangers mouth, a woman shouting for an ambulance. It panicked me, "N-No! No hospitals!" I said defensively, though it came out as a vague mumble.
The man looked at me in surprise and fear set in, paranoia forcing me to believe that Alex could walk in at any second, "No! T-They'll find me here!"
I recognized I was sobbing as I ranted, begging. I heard some sort of reassurance from the small crowd of people and I jumped as the doors burst open, though I looked to see a paramedic. It was the last thing I saw before I passed out.
I groaned as a beeping sound slowly woke me up. Hazy images surrounded me, eventually forming into a hospital room. I flinched as I realized I had a needle stuck into my arm. I felt strange; lightheaded, dizzy, hardly conscious.
I felt numb.
I jumped as I saw something move out of the corner of my eye, realizing someone else was in the room. I trembled as I glanced beside me, watching the man I'd never seen before. His suit matched the colour of his coffee which he set down on the small table, shifting his weight as he nodded his head, offering a small smile. "Good afternoon."
Fear attacked me. I couldn't be in a hospital, I couldn't be here. Fighting to get my voice back, I responded dryly, "W-Who are you?" I hardly knew if he had heard me.
"Conner Stevens, an investigator of the local police department. How're you feeling?"
I rubbed my eyes, "F-Fine.."
"That's good, you're on medication and feeling lightheaded is common. Can you tell me your name?"
"Quinn McAdams." I responded, glancing at him.
A strange expression fell over his face. He sighed and looked at the ground, "We've looked into that Miss and no one under that name is missing."
I gawked at him, "What are you talking about?"
He tilted his head, "What about the name Gina Landon? Sound familiar?"
It sparked more anger than it should've, "Let me call my parents. Now. My name is Quinn McAdams."
"Miss, Quinn McAdams was found dead five weeks ago."
My mind exploded with his words, then cut off abruptly and left me shocked, not able to function. My lip trembled as I sat there motionless, hardly noticing as he reached into a file and pulled something out. He set it in my hands and I forced myself to look down... It was a photograph of me. He spoke, "That picture is of a teenage girl named Gina Landon. She ran from her home after robbing her local bank. She's been missing for two years now."
I shook my head vigorously, feeling tears of frustration burn my eyes, "No! I was kidnapped after a volleyball game! Chris bought Leslie and-"
"Bought?" He asked quizzically, narrowing his eyes.
Complete rage struck me. This man wasn't going to believe me. Even through my immense confusion, I knew who to blame.
This was fucking Alex.
He had done this to me. Anger burning, I held myself back from screaming at the clueless man, "You have to listen! They did this! They set me up! I don't understand how they did it but you have to believe me!"
I was desperate, on the verge of tears. Stevens offered me a look of sympathy before he stood up, "I've been told to allow you to rest. Things will be sorted when you are better, that's enough questions for now."
"Let me call my parents!" I cried, "Robin McAdams! Kyle McAdams! They'll know it's me, I swear!"
"Have a good afternoon, Miss Landon."
I resisted the urge to throw something at his head as he left the room. I gritted my teeth, fuming. How was it possible? I felt physically wounded.
I didn't care.
I was still going home.
Pulling the needle out of my arm, I realized how devastatingly weak and faint I was. There was no way that I could remain conscious for long. I cried out as my foot hit the ground, sending another round of pain through my body. There was a sense of numbness that prevailed, I realized it must've been heavy medication. It was probably the only thing allowing me to walk right now.
I was drowsy and dizzy by the time I managed to limp to the hallway, nearly running into a nurse that had been rushing by. Her expression dropped entirely as she turned around; stunned and bewildered. "Oh my god! You can't leave your room!" She cried.
I tried to push passed her, waving my arms, "I-I need a phone."
A sudden alarm pierced my ears and I let out a long string of curse words, forcing myself to keep moving. I hardly made it two more steps before I was surrounded by nurses and doctors, causing tears to burn my eyes, "Stop! I-I just want to go home! Let me call home!" I pleaded.
A hand brushed my shoulder and I screamed instinctively, backing away when I felt a needle piece my skin. I cringed, but I was out in seconds.