Chapter 12: Chapter 12

Chapter 12 I will strap you down

Waking up in a cell with a searing headache only reminds me that this isn't a dream.

It's very much real.

I groan and sit up, and instinctively my hand goes to the back of my head, which happens to be completely swollen. I wince as I feel around for injuries, and by the way my entire face feels, every square inch of my head is swollen.

I run my tongue over my dry lips, and immediately get the metallic taste of blood in my mouth. I still feel a steady stream of wetness drip from my nose and the sides of my head, and I know then that the wounds are still bleeding.

My stomach feels sick, and suddenly, I find myself cowering on my hands and knees as bile rises up my throat, burning it in the process. I willingly let the bile drip from my mouth as I weakly cough and spit in an attempt to wash the bitter after-taste.

Once I'm done, I weakly collapse back onto the ground in a ball, and hug my knees. My head spins painfully, and I know that I may have a concussion.

It's been a week now since I've been taken, and since then, I hadn't had enough food or water, and I know my body is suffering because so.

They are trying to take the strength from me, and make me become nothing more than a broken horse who has forgotten what freedom tastes like.

The truth is, they already have broken me.

They have broken me in every way possible.

But the desire for freedom that I have deep down, is what they can't extinguish from me.

And when you're lying on a cold floor in a cell that's only 8 by 10 feet, the thought of freedom has me just dying to get out once more and feel the sun upon my skin and the wind through my hair.

I miss Katelin. Both her and Shontell are my only friends, and the thought of leaving her and never seeing her again strikes fear in my heart.

I will even admit that I kinda miss Ace. His ocean eyes draw me in like a moth to a flame. And for some reason, my gut is telling me that I can indeed trust him. Surely, if he wanted to hurt me, he would have while I slept soundly in his home.

But instead he had offered me nothing but kindness. I mean, how many other people do you know of that would willingly take in a stranger and let them live in their home?

And now as I lie here alone, I can only hope that I will be rescued once more. I hate to sound like a "damsel in distress" but sometimes it's okay to be when you can't get do it alone.

I am too lost in my thoughts to notice the sound of an approaching visitor. As usual, Hawk comes in, and I just lie there on the floor. No use backing into the corner anymore, not like it's going to do me any good.

But instead of beating me, he drops a stale piece of white bread and a bruised apple in front of my face. The apple goes rolling away across the dusty floor, and when he sees that I don't react, he presses his foot into my ribs.

"Boss doesn't want you to starve. Eat, or I will strap you down and force feed you like they do to meat ducks at those factory farms." He says.

I refuse to be fed like a toddler throwing a tantrum, so I carefully sit up and sit cross-legged. I reach out for the stale bread, and slowly bring it to my mouth. My stomach lurches at the sight or smell of any food as it is too upset at this point.

But despite that I take a small nibble from the bread, and chew. I swallow it, and my stomach starts to ache. I don't want to be beaten again, so I eat the rest of the bread under Hawk's watchful glare.

"Now the apple." He states.

But I don't listen to him as my stomach becomes painfully nauseous, and soon I find myself throwing up the bread I had just put in my stomach. It splatters all over the floor, and becoming suddenly weak, I fall to the ground.

Hawk groans in frustration. "I wanted you to eat! Not be some anorexic bitch!" He yells angrily.

I cringe at his word choice, he's acting like anorexia is some fling girls like to have. But what can you expect from an ass like him?

He threads his fingers through my hair, and brings his mouth to my ear. "Boss is not going to be happy. I bet he will release those dogs on you."

I shiver runs up my spine. By dogs he means men. It's a saying for men to have a free-for-all on my body, and I've been through it way too many times.

"P-please. A-anything but that." I wheeze out through my dry throat.

But all he does is smirk at me, before casually strolling out of the room, and locking the cell shut. I can only hope that I will not be ravaged by evil men.

* * *

Katelin's POV:

"Ace, you need sleep." I tell Ace, for what must be the hundredth time this week.

"Dakota is missing, and you dare to tell me that I need sleep?!" He growls out.

He has also been in a very bad mood. He hasn't slept or eaten well since he's been dedicating his time to finding Dakota, and it's got me worried.

Ace isn't the only one who's concerned about Dakota, and lashing out on others isn't going to get him anywhere. Not taking care of himself won't get him anywhere either, as the body works best when it is well taken care of.

"How can I sleep when Dakota is out there somewhere dying?" He questions, his tone looks doubtful of Dakota's survival.

"You don't know that, Ace. Tomorrow you get her back, and you need to be in the best shape - both mind and body for that. Now quite arguing with me and go to sleep. Think about what Dakota would want and stop wallowing in your misery. This situation sucks for all of us, and the least you can do is take care of yourself." I tell him.

He groans out in frustration, but even then I can see the understanding in his eyes.

"C'mon. Get in bed. Let me tuck you in." I tell him as I hide my smile.

Ace rolls his eyes. "I'm not five years old. You don't need to tuck-"

"No, no, no, get in bed right now." I reply.

Ace curses under his breath a few times before reluctantly complying. I roll the covers over Ace and take a moment to relish in how much he resembles a burrito when he's tucked in.

I remember the times Ace would often take care of me when I was a young child. Those dark rainy nights when I would be broken from the terrors of the past, Ace would often pick my little body up and carry me to bed, where he would tuck me in and dry the tears from my eyes.

I could tell at that time that he too was hurting from the loss of our parents. But he stayed strong for me.

It's nice to be the one to return the favor all these years later.

"Now relax, just go to sleep." I say. He looks completely drained and stressed out. He has been working hard the last week, and I can only hope that Dakota is okay for not only my sake, but for Ace's.

"Goodnight, Ace." I whisper as I switch out the light and gently shut the door.

I then slide down the door, and bury my face in my knees. The stress has gotten to me too, I just don't want Ace to worry about me. He's worried enough already.

I had made Dakota my good friend, and in the short time we knew each other, we had bonded. I run my hands through my hair as I let the tears leak out of my eyes and onto my lap.

I know that the rescue mission Ace is going on tomorrow is dangerous, so I fear for the lives on both Ace and Dakota. And Ace is all I have left of my family.

I guess the only thing I can hold onto now is hope.

Hope is what gets me through times like these.

Even though hope may sometimes by false.

* * *

Ace' POV:

I took Katelin's advice and rested that night. She was right, I needed to be in the best shape I possibly can for Dakota. So, that morning I got up early, and prepared all of my men for the rescue mission.

I want to take Dakota's father alive, if possible. I would surely release my wrath on him. He will pay.

So early that night, under the cover of darkness as usual, my men and I attacked the Vipers. Men all around me were being shot down by the guards, and I knew that if I don't think of something quickly, I will have too many casualties.

I decide to call off most of my men, and go in with my best, most skilled men. They cover for me as I search the building and take down a few guards along the way.

But when I turned a corner, at guard jumped out at me. His silver weapon pointed at my head, ready to shoot. I quickly dodge before he shoots, yet the bullet still ends up hitting me in the shoulder.

I wince at the burning sensation that is quickly spreading through my body, but luckily my adrenaline helps keep the pain at a minimum.

Right when he's about to reload, Krazy jumps out screaming, before throwing a dagger through the guard's chest. The guard falls to his knees, gasping and choking on his own blood before falling completely onto the floor.

He inhales a few more ragged breaths before his body finally goes still; his open eyes staring up at the ceiling and his mouth agape.

I nod at Krazy in approval, in which he smirks back at me in reply, before we go back to our search.

The place is pretty well guarded, like I suspected, but my group of men and I manage to evade some more guards while shooting others to reach my destination.

And the destination happens to be on the very top floor.

When my men and I reach the top, we find a large, heavy duty metal door that is locked shut.

I motion Jeremy to hand me the tension wrench and a pin, and I get to work on the lock. I scrubbed the pin back and forth in the key hole, until finally, after a bit of anxious elbow-juice, the door swings open, and I don't hesitate to burst forth.

Lying in the center of the floor, all bruised up, is Dakota. She's asleep, and she is lying on her side, her back facing me. Her shirt rides up a bit, revealing her hips that are poking out too much from her skin.

Her spine is prominent through her shirt, and her hair is matted in her own blood. Her breathing is shallow, and I rush over to her side. I turn her face over to me, and that's when she opens her eyes and looks at me.

She groans quietly in pain and her eyes have a dazed look to them.

Her face is black and blue, and blood runs down her head and nose. She has two black eyes, and it looks like she's about to cry.

"Jordan, call in the chopper."

"Yes Boss."

I pick Dakota up, and nuzzle her against my chest. My shoulder aches in pain from the bullet wound, but I fight through it and carry her on.

I can feel her body shivering in my arms as she stirs in and out of consciousness.

"A-Ace..."

I am shocked when I hear her weak voice utter my name, and I look down.

"Shh don't speak." I whisper back to her. She needs all her strength, and I can tell that even speaking is too much for her.

But despite what I told her, she speaks up again.

"T-thank you." She says quietly.

That brings a smile to my face, but as soon as those words leave her lips, her body goes limp in my arms, and her head falls against my chest. I finally reach the top of the roof, where a chopper waits for me. The harsh wind pushes me back and whips through Dakota's hair.

The loud beating of the blades pulse through my ears as I waste no time in running to the helicopter with the limp girl in my arms once more.

In times like these, I realize I have rescued her.

But who knew that in return, she would also be the one to rescue me?