2. CAUGHT

‘I should go back.’ I thought.

‘No, it’s too late.’ I argued.

I ran my hands through my hair, ripped out the veil, and threw it down forcefully.

I was fucked and I knew it. I shook so hard that even my lips trembled. 

“What have I done?” 

I paced back and forth, my eyes skittishly moving in every direction. As soon as the doors of the bus opened I jumped in. There was no way I could escape. There was no way I would survive this. If Slade didn’t kill me first then my supposed husband would skin me alive. 

The image of him had me shudder again. 

Eyes so dark they almost seemed to swallow the light, with barely any soul in them. The tattoo could be seen peaking from his shirt and the scorn on his face had made it clear he had already been pissed. He would kill me with his bare hands. I was sure they were gigantic themselves.

 I shrieked in my seat, folding my arms around my body. 

I was doomed. 

“Hey, are you okay?” 

I jumped as a man touched my side. 

I nodded my head without even looking. He breathed out and moved on. 

I was a dead woman walking. 

Where would I go? There was nowhere they wouldn’t find me. 

But I was just a nobody, a lieutenant’s daughter. They would probably marry some other girl in my stead. What of my father? Where would he be then? 

He was a high-ranking lieutenant but no one was indispensable in the cartel. Many had been killed for much minor crimes. The near silence around me nearly drove me crazy. No one sat next to me and I was grateful. I buried my face in my hands to pull it up again. I was too shocked and packed with adrenaline to think clearly. All that ran in my head was the sight of my supposed husband. 

“Ladies and gentlemen, we will be making an emergency stop.” said a panicked voice from the bus speakers. My heart went crazy as I stared at the ruckus around me. All were muffling to those around them, wondering what was happening. The panic could be seen and heard but none could compare to mine. I thought I would wet myself. I hadn't even realized the bus had slowed down. 

It was inevitable, I thought.

‘It’s nothing to do with us, chill.’

I couldn’t help stand up and stare out the window. Wide eyes from everyone stared around, curious on what was happening. 

“What do you think is going on?” 

“I don’t know. Just a bunch of cars blocking the road!” Someone shouted and chaos happened as everyone tried to shuffle to the front and get a better view. 

I didn’t know what to do. I knew they had found me. I couldn’t even make my way to the front  because my dress was so huge. 

“Can I pass, please!” I screamed out in frustration as I pushed forward with little success. 

“Move!” I was holding on by a string, drowning in the deep end that I had thrown myself in. 

I pushed my way through until I could see what had the others gasping. 

Three range rovers were parked around the bus and men stood by the doors. 

Right in front of the middle car he stood. His jacket was off, a white shirt with his gun handle on show. What would they do if I didn’t step out? What would he do to me for running away?

Finally, I stared at the other men. I grew up around mafia men. I knew they wouldn’t hold anything back, they’d kill all the passengers unless I stepped out. 

The way they stood as if bored showed that their patience had been tested. 

“Move, please” I pushed through, getting pushed and curses back. The people didn’t understand. This was far worse than they could have imagined. 

“Please, open the door,” I said to the driver as I tried to calm myself down. 

“Lady,” The man warned but I gave him a look and he shrugged, opening the doors. 

I wanted to scream. I wanted to shout but all I could do was beg my legs to move. The air blew my hair away; it was cold and harsh. 

 I took a few steps but I just couldn’t move further. I couldn’t walk to my death. I couldn’t do it. My body swung, my feet fast as I ran the opposite direction. It was stupid but somehow all my body knew was to run. I pushed forward as if I was running track. I put all I had yet arms soon wrapped around my waist.

A scream poured from my mouth as they grabbed a hold of me. I tried to kick my way out of their hold, swinging my arms and screaming. 

Fucking bastards. 

Somehow the man was able to drag me to the car where I was thrown in. I jumped off as soon as they let go of me and nearly got my hand chopped off by the door as it slammed. 

“Fuck you!” 

The price I would pay would be steep so I made it worth the pain. I kicked and punched the window until I wilted like a dehydrated flower. 

Anger and fear nearly consumed me. I was holding on to the fight by pure stubbornness. 

The car door opened and the man I hated with everything in me slid through. His sleeves were rolled up, his arms like muscled guns. Tattoos ran up them with scars. He was the scariest man I had ever seen. Somehow I scooted further away and even in my fear I still pushed my head up and stared at the devil. He was probably in his early forties or late thirties but as much as my father was a good-looking man, he had nothing on this man. The man had that exotic look to him, like something forbidden. 

His face snapped to me and I jumped back. My breath was gone, fighting to stay conscious. He was rough and raw in a way I could not describe. His arm moved, two fingers gesturing for me to shift closer. I didn’t want to, lord I wanted to run but to my utter horror, the door was locked as I tried to pry it open. There was nowhere to go.

 I was going to pass out with how my heart was beating. I was getting faint from the shortness of breath.

His hand came quickly, wrapping around my nape painfully with him pulling me closer by my neck. I yelped, trying to fight him off but what was the point? His fingers dug into my neck painfully. 

I bit my lower lip, tears bordering my eyes to barely see the paper he placed on a book on his lap. A pen sat on it and I knew what it was. And I knew what I had to do but I couldn’t. 

I couldn’t sign my life away like that. 

The fight poured back and I tried to push away but failed. His fingers dug deeper and I rather would have died. But he was stronger than me, pulling me by my neck. 

I screamed and cried, screaming in anger. I hammered my fists as much as I could to him until my throat felt as if it would split into two. 

“Fuck you!” I screamed, but even I knew I was fighting a losing battle.

“Sign.” 

“No!” I screamed, trying to push him off. 

His hand tightened, showing me that he hadn't even been putting much force. 

Pain exploded and I halted. I couldn’t even scream as the pain shot from my neck to paralyze my whole body. I felt as if I was dying. 

My hands ran up to the air, begging with my eyes as tears poured out. 

He let go, my body collapsing on him. 

“Sign.” His voice was gruff. 

The pen was pressed in my hand and pushed down. 

I couldn’t believe it. It felt like an awful dream I would wake from. It couldn’t be. My hand moved, signing on the dotted line only to stop and stare at the signature in utter horror. 

The pressure from the hand holding mine let go. 

I felt paper light as arms caught me from falling on him. The fight had completely left me and I felt empty. My heart shattered into a million pieces.

What would I do? 

How would I escape?