~CHAPTER 4~
The car slowly came to a stop at the side of the road. We were in a dense forest, with trees towering above us.
Mr. tattoo harshly stepped out of the car, he walked over to my side, and pulled the door open. "Get down," he growled.
I looked over to the driver, wondering what was going on. Were they going to kill me?, I didn't understand a word they had said so it might be a possibility.
We were in a secluded area, far from prying eyes. If they wanted to get rid of me, this was the perfect place to do it.
I thought about my life, about how no one would even notice if I disappeared. I had no friends and no family remaining...well if my father isn't dead yet but he wouldn't care.
Mr. tattoo impatient voice cut through my thoughts. "Get down, now," he repeated, pulling me out of the car.
The forest ground was uneven, and my bare foots stumbled over roots and fallen branches.
Mr. tattoo's tight grip was the only thing that kept me upright, till we reached a towering tree and he tugged me forward.
"Pee," he snapped with his eyes fixed on me. I felt my face burned with humiliation as I held my battered gown.
I looked over to the car, which was now at a distance away, but not so far that I couldn't see their other sleek SUVs moving past it.
"Umm...can you turn around?" I stammered to him. Even though my plan was not to actually pee, but rather to use the opportunity to escape.
I hoped that Mr. tattoo would at least have some basic humanity to turn around and give me a semblance of privacy.
Mr. tattoo expression was unreadable, he seemed to be sizing me up, wondering if I was trying to pull a fast one on him.
Then, he clicked his tongue, before saying "A gun is in my hands," The implication was clear: don't even think about trying to escape.
He turned his back to from me and I knew I had to be careful, any wrong move could be my last.
I slowly turned around and my eyes quickly scanned the surrounding area.
The forest floor was dense with underbrush as I began to walk further away from Mr. tattoo.
Being barefoot had its disadvantages and advantages. On one hand, my footsteps were quieter, making it easier for me to move stealthily. On the other hand, my feet were vulnerable to the rough forest ground.
Every step was a gamble, and I could feel my feet getting cut and bruised with each careful step I took. The pain was starting to become unbearable, but I didn't stop, I didn't even look back to see how far I have walked and that was a mistake.
I was so focused on my escape that I didn't even notice Mr. tattoo turning around until I heard his voice. "Are you done yet?" he growled.
And a blow to the back of my head knocked me off balance, before I could even react I felt a searing pain as my vision began to blur.
Everything went dark as my head hit the ground, and I was knocked out cold.
The last thing I felt was the feeling of the damp earth beneath me, the taste of blood in my mouth, and the sound of Mr. tattoo's voice, fading into the distance as he dragged me back. Then, nothing.
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I felt like I was floating in a very soft cloud, everywhere was so peaceful and quiet but after a minute my head began to throb with a dull ache that seemed to reverberate through every cell in my body.
I tried to raise my hand to my head, but it wouldn't budge. Confused, I tried my second arm, but it too remained stuck in place.
A feeling of dread crept over me - I was restrained-. My eyes quickly snapped open, and I was met with a sight.
Above me, a full ceiling mirror reflected my image, making me look like a rag doll. I saw myself lying flat on a bed, my wrists and legs chained down with thick, heavy chains that looked impossible to break.
But that wasn't what really surprised me - it was my state of undress. I was fully naked, stripped of any clothes I remembered wearing before the blackout.
I felt shame and vulnerability wash over me while I thought about how I must have looked when I was unconscious.
I wondered if anyone had seen me like this or worse...if anyone had touched me while I was helpless. my mind filled with horrific images but as I lay there, I didn't feel any pain in my lower body, and for that, I was grateful.
"Finally woken up," a voice said, breaking the silence.
I tried moving my head to see who said that, but a sharp pain shot through my temples, making me wince.
I slowly turned my head, scanning the room until they landed on the masked man who was also the big boss.
He was sitting on a plush, black couch positioned directly at me, facing my most intimate parts, a cigarette dangling from his lips.
He looked completely relaxed with his eyes fixed on my privates, I quickly tried to close my legs together, desperate to reclaim some semblance of modesty.
But the chains binding my ankles pulled them apart, holding me in a more vulnerable and exposed position.
I felt a cold sweat break out on my forehead, I watch the Don took a long, slow drag on his cigarette, the smoke curling upwards, filling the room with a thick, acrid haze that made my eyes sting.
The air was heavy with tension, my heart pounding in my chest, He hadn't even said a word, apart from that initial phrase, but the way his dark eyes roamed all over me, drinking in every detail of my exposed body, told me everything I needed to know. I knew I was in deep shit and I'm about to find out.