The man never did come back that night.

Chloe was left in the room with only a brewing headache for company. Her cheek seemed to pulse where he had hit her and she was sure that been provided a mirror, she would see a bruise. The lack of sleep and flickering light bulb also did nothing to ease her mind.

She found herself at the mercy of her own thoughts.

She couldn't be sure exactly how long she had been in this room. Would it have been long enough for her family to notice she was gone?

How would they react? Would her dad have been worried for her safety? Or more than likely, assumed that she had run away after their argument? Was he pounding on William's door to demand his daughter's whereabouts? She had considered running back to William before ultimately deciding on the bar, so her dad seeking out William wouldn't have been too far fetched. She should have just gone begging for him to take her back.

Surely her brother would notice something wasn't right. Outside of money, Cormac was the only thing keeping her at home. He was five years younger than her and she had hoped that after he turned eighteen and she had saved up some money, they could move out together. She wouldn't have abandoned him and she prayed he knew that.

Chloe shook her head. She wished the barista would have noticed her ID was fake and thrown her out. Then at least she wouldn't be working with scattered pieces of memory, trying to figure out exactly what happened last night. She remembered entering the bar... at some point a man maybe in his thirties had ordered her a shot. Another sweet talking son of a gun had convinced her to sing karaoke with him.. Or was it the same guy? At some point she had found herself hugging the toilet in the ladies room and offering everything she had just consumed to the toilet bowl. She didn't remember the small events that happened in between or exactly which order the events happened in. She most definitely didn't remember leaving the bar or even if she had anyone to accompany her.

Had anyone seen her leave? She wanted to say the bar was busy, but Chloe couldn't be sure if it really was or if she was just seeing double. There had to have been at least one witness right? Had she been awake or unconscious? Did she even scream or try to alert anyone that she was being taken?

Was her cell phone traceable? Did she forget it at home or leave it at the bar? Was it taken by her captor? She couldn't recall. These thoughts and unanswered questions ate away at her.

Chloe didn't know what all went into filing a missing persons report, but she knew that they weren't put out for people no one knew were missing. She was nineteen now, a legal adult, which meant she had the right to be missing.

Even if going missing was not her intention.

"I'm glad you're awake."

Startled, Chloe nearly fell backwards off the mattress. She had been so lost in her thoughts she hadn't even noticed the door across the room open. She watched intently as the man slowly approached her. Chloe's heart pounded as he knelt in front of her.

In a sharp movement, the man grabbed her arm in a vice. Chloe screamed, but the man only shushed her.

"Quite, meu amor. Estou te ajudando."

When her mother would visit, she would speak Spanish to Chloe and Cormac, but this didn't sound quite the same. She wasn't sure what language the man switched between.

"Eu não vou machucar você. Eu nunca te machucaria." His voice was so soft his words almost sounded genuine.

He twisted her arm so that the cuff showed the lock upright. Then he slipped a key from his pocket and unlocked the cuff with a clank. She had hoped he would release his grip, but he didn't. He only slid the key back into his pocket.

"Come. I brought you new clothes." He tugged her off the bed so fast Chloe barely had time to place her feet before standing. He led her down a corridor, which thankfully had better lighting than the room she was just in, before turning right into a small bathroom.

The bathroom had the bare necessities. There were no cabinets or mirrors. Just a porcelain toilet with a chipped seat and a shower with no curtain. The cream floor tiles were covered in dust and cobwebs. Chloe took this as a sign that nobody had used this place in a long time.

On the counter next to the sink was a pile of folded clothes.

"Take a shower. You reek of vomit."

"No." It came out more forceful than Chloe had thought she would be able to manage.

"No." The man mocked, then said, "I wasn't asking, you bitch!"

He shoved Chloe against the wall and her head made a sickening crack when it connected. Ringing filled her ears momentarily.

"Fuck you!" Chloe spat. She could hear her dad scolding her for using such vulgar language, but she didn't care. He moved one arm across her collar to keep her in place and with the other he grabbed her jacket and began tugging it off her shoulder.

His scent was repulsive; a mixture of cigarettes, sweat, and alcohol. His nearness was suffocating, but it also gave Chloe the advantage she needed. She brought her knee up with all the force she could muster.

"Fuck!" He growled as he doubled over, releasing Chloe.

She bolted out the door and into the corridor.

Which way to turn?!

Chloe looked to the left where the room with the mattress was, but there didn't seem to be any other door down that hall. She took a right. At the end of the corridor she saw light billowing down a wooden staircase. Freedom was just at her fingertips.

She took the stairs two at a time, burst through the threshold into the main home, and collided with a wall.

No- not a wall. Walls didn't relocate to purposely inconvenience you. Her heart sank as a low chuckle erupted from the man in front of her. He was shorter than the other man, but still much taller and bulkier than Chloe. He grabbed her upper arm to anchor her in place, but his eyes were locked behind her. Chloe could hear the groaning of wood as the man from the basement climbed up after her.

"Really, Harris? You let a girl scout best you?" The new man tsked.

"Foda-se, Howard. Apenas amarre a cadela não cooperativa de volta." Harris retorted.

Harris wandered down a hallway and entered a room. When he returned, a rope was in his hands. Howard held her hands back while Harris tied them. Try as she did, her desperate attempts to get away from the men were futile.

When she refused to walk back down the stairs, Howard just carried her over his shoulder like a sack of grain back into the basement. He set her down on the mattress, but to her surprise, didn't chain her to the wall.

Chloe had almost made her great escape when she had thought it was a one man operation she was dealing with. Now she knew there were two, maybe even more. Brute wouldn't get her out of this mess. She had to be calculative.

He was just about to close the door, when Chloe changed tactics.

"Why?"

The man paused, then turned to look back at her. He seemed perplexed by this simple question. "What?"

"Why do this? Why kidnap me?"

"Kidnap you?" The man scoffed. "No, we just found what was lost."

Bullshit, Chloe wanted to protest, but she knew that wouldn't work. Calling him out would only escalate his unstable emotions and throw his last working brain cells into a dissonance.

With that, the man strode out the door and locked it behind himself.