Hunter's eyes held hers with a silent resolve, communicating that he wouldn't be silenced. "She's oblivious to the truth. I'm aware of who you are, she isn't. Release her."
A snort escaped Derick. "How touching. Yet, I have no desire to comply."
"I'll offer no resistance," Hunter assured him, his gaze returning to Derick as his voice swelled with urgency. "Do as you wish to me, but spare her—mmph!"
His words were abruptly muffled as Juliette crammed socks into his mouth, her disloyalty stinging Hunter. He attempted to break free from her grip, yet she maintained its firm placement over his lips.
"Cease. PLEASE!" Juliette implored, pleading for his acquiescence. "Just stop."
At the sound of her voice, laced with distress, Hunter couldn't help but obey.
With tender precision, Juliette secured the socks in place by fashioning the blue ribbon around his head, knotting it securely while whispering reassurances into his ear - he wouldn't face this ordeal alone.
"Your nobility is nauseating," Derick sneered.
Juliette's touch lingered on Hunter's face; a gentle caress with her thumb and a soft tracing along his jawline that stiffened under the pressure of biting down on the cloth.
"What is it you want from him?" Juliette's voice cracked as she addressed Derick.
"You'll see," he replied ominously.
Bound by the leash in Derick's grasp, forced to kneel before him, Hunter was acutely conscious of his submissive posture. Juliette seemed but a child allowed a sorrowful playtime with an animal under command.
"To hell with you," Juliette spat with shaky vehemence.
Derick then drew her away from Hunter and bound her hands with zip ties before motioning them to proceed towards an awaiting car outside—Defiantly parked upon Mrs. Rosewood's meticulously groomed lawn—a pointed act of disrespect that didn't go unnoticed by Hunter. As they moved forward, any faint hope that Derick might release Juliette dissipated completely.
Prodded by the gun at her back and led by Hunter on a tethered march, they approached the vehicle's open trunk where their ominous transition continued. A rough shove sent Hunter tumbling onto the lawn face-first. Restrained not only by binds but also Derick's foot firmly on the leash, he had no choice but to obey.
In turn, Juliette was subjected to a gag fashioned not from ribbon but a pillowcase drawn tight enough for the contours of her face to emerge through the fabric. She was then brutally maneuvered into the trunk space, lying prone atop bound arms as she winced from contact with the vehicle's hard edges.
He unzipped the voluminous duffel bag, spreading it open on the trunk's floor like a dark canvas.
"Inside. Now," he commanded tersely, pulling Hunter toward the gaping maw of the bag.
With each heartbeat thundering in his ears, Hunter clambered in, his mind racing—was Juliette still able to draw breath through the cloth smothering her face?
The sharp cinch of zip ties ensnaring his ankles sent a jolt through him; they were so tight, his bones seemed to chafe against one another.
"Down," Derick instructed coldly, prodding Hunter with the cold steel of his gun.
Complying with his captor, Hunter lay back as Derick drew the duffel's zipper over his head, sealing him in a claustrophobic embrace of darkness. The fit was crushingly tight—not an inch to wriggle.
"Savor the ride," Derick sneered before the sound of the trunk slamming resonated like a final note in a grim symphony.
And with that final methodical act of imprisonment upon Hunter and Juliette alike, Derick set into motion the subsequent chapter of their harrowing narrative.