PSA: LIAM LUCIANO IS ONE PERSON.

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My heart was racing as pain surged through every limb.  I groaned loudly and attempted to sit up, only to curse and fall back to the damp, cold floor.  My palms pressed against the concrete as I closed my eyes, grimacing at the pain.  Tears rushed to the corner of my eyes as I pressed my cheek against the ground, the cold felt nice against my face.

Slowly, I opened my eyes, taking in as much of my surroundings as I could.  The room was dark and lacked natural light.  You could hear water dripping from a loose pipe, echoing a steady, yet annoying sound as it fell into a growing puddle on the floor.  The walls and floors were made of pure concrete; no form of carpet or decoration found.

Turning my head, I craned my neck to see a faint ray of light coming from near the top of a set of crooked stairs. Carefully, I sit up and begin to stand, but the clanking sound of a chain made its way to my ears. My stomach dropped and I glanced down at my feet. Two iron cuffs were tied around my ankles.

My heart sank, along with the Titanic and whatever hope I had built up in escaping. 

I fell back on my ass, my hands trailing the long chain that connected to the wall.  I frowned and slightly pouted, this was not okay. None of this was okay. What had I done to be put here?

Slowly but surely, my memory started coming back to me. Two men in black suits, armed with guns entered my house about . . . oh god, what time was it?

I grabbed at my wrist, but to no avail; my watch was gone. I specifically remembered putting it on that day . . .

Sighing, I closed my eyes once more and attempted to remember...

Sunday ; June 7th, 2015The Sunday had started out as any normal weekend would. I stood in BWI - Baltimore-Washington International Airport, located in Baltimore, Maryland. It was easily a forty-five minute drive from where I lived with my mother, Susan, and my dad, Ian. They were going away to Austria for the summer. I would be home home alone for three months.

At the time, it sounded like heaven.

"Now, are you sure you're going to be okay, Sweetheart?"

"Yes, Mom," I laughed, exasperated. She had been worrying about me for the last two days; saying the same thing over, over, and over again. "I don't think we should leave her for three months, Ian. I'm worried." Pushing her worries into the back of my mind, I smiled, "Mom, I'm twenty-one!" I held up a two in my left hand, and a one in my other; as if that were to ease all of her motherly worries and concerns. My dad, thankfully, stuck up for me.

"Susan, she'll be alright. I have all the faith in the world in my little girl." He chuckled. His dark eyes twinkled, his salt and pepper hair glistening beneath the lights. As if on cue - as if we planned it - I took a step towards him, he towards me, and he wrapped his arms around my shoulder, giving me a reassuring squeeze. I smiled widely, waiting for my mother's response.

She looked like she wanted to argue and if I knew my mother well enough, I knew she still wasn't comfortable; but reluctantly, she dropped the issue. "I'll feel much better if you call me every night," She stated. I watched my father's eyes go wide and I knew mine had done the same.

"Every night?" I exclaimed, "How about every other, or maybe once a week. I wouldn't want to interrupt your guys'. . ." I waved my hand, inappropriate images of my parents doing explicit things entered my mind. ". . .yeah," I nodded, "I'll call you once a week."

"Don't forget," My mother stressed.

"I'll text you whenever I'm free-" I shot her my best 'I'm a great daughter' smile, before ushering the two towards their gate. "-so have fun, enjoy yourselves, don't worry, and bring me back a present." I smiled, excitement building up. I rested my hands on my waist and waited. I watched as my parents showed the employee's their tickets; the stripping, scanning, and searching for any weapons and, or, drugs being done at the initial entrance. They entered through the gate and turned, waving and smiling towards me.

"Do you have a key?" I heard my mom shout, her voice faint over all the other chattering. I nodded, sending a thumbs-up her way, before they walked into the terminal and out of sight.

Freedom at last.

With college out till August, I was a free woman.  My parents trusted me enough to keep the house safe and I knew they wouldn't be worried about me throwing raging parties.  The only parties I was known to throw were attended by one person - me - and they typically included Netflix, popcorn, chocolate, wifi, a phone charger, and depending on the time of the month, Ben and Jerry's ice-cream.   

I reached the parking lot and hopped inside my parent's beige 2003 Toyota Camry.  It was by no means luxurious, but it got me from point A to point B, and that was all that mattered.

The ride home was quicker, probably because I didn't have to hear about my mom complaining about anything and everything that could go wrong. I loved my mom, I really did, but sometimes she was just a little ray of pitch black.

Pulling into my driveway, I parked the car and hopped out; grabbing my purse and phone. My gold watch dangled from my hand, and I quickly slid it onto my left wrist. Stepping onto the porch, I reached into my bag and pulled out my key ring - the red king indicating it was to my house.

I tested the doorknob first, something I always did.  The door was locked and a sense of security fell over me. Unlocking the door a few seconds later, I stepped inside, closed the door, and immediately I stopped.

A man stood in my foyer, a picture of my family in his hands.  He wore dark clothing; black pants, a matching tee-shirt, and boots.  A gun was shoved in a holster that wrapped itself around his upper thigh.  A few strands of dirty blonde hair fell over his youthful face.

Slowly - and do I mean slowly - I watch as he lifts a hand to his head, pressing a finger against the blue-tooth in his ear.  And as quietly as he can, he states, "We have company." 

I skedaddled. 

I ran.

I bolted.

I dashed.

I practically flew up the steps, headed towards my father's bedroom.  In case of emergencies, he kept a loaded pistol in his closet, one that could've been used in this situation.  It would've come in handy if I had made it there.

The second my foot makes contact with the top step, I'm sent flying backwards. 

Gravity took over and I found myself free-falling down the steps, my back taking the majority of the abuse.  The wooden steps held no mercy for me as I rolled and flipped, losing my sense of awareness.  I landed on the first floor in a breathless daze, unable to move as pain rippled through me.

My world began to spin and the last thing I saw before I passed out, was the front door.

Why hadn't I just run out the front door when I had the chance?

Present Time

I didn't know the day nor the time and I found myself having a hard time trying to remember my own name.

My attention lifted from the floor at the sound of footsteps.  Two men descended the rickety set of stairs, slowly approaching me.  I scooted as far as I could against the wall, wishing nothing more than the world to open up and swallow me.

"You look awful," The one on the right spoke first, his face etched in concern; genuine or not, I couldn't tell. He had dark, black hair; shaved neatly on the sides, but slicked back by hair gel on top. 

The man on the left was blonde and I recognized him almost immediately.  He scrunched his nose up and turned to his friend, "Wow, way to boost a woman's ego, Luis."

The blonde positions himself in a squat and I take note that the dark haired man does the same.  My back presses against the wall and I bite my lip, groaning inwardly at the bruises that were beginning to form from my fall.  Gritting my teeth, I do all I can to keep my voice from cracking, emotion and dehydration the main cause of that.  "What do you want with me?"

I didn't quite catch the hilarity in my question, but the two men smiled, chuckling softly at it.  My eyebrows connect as the one man smiles, "We don't want you--"

"-the boss does," the blonde finishes for his friend. If I wasn't tied up and being held against my will, I would probably admit to the young looking man that he was handsome.  He had soft features and whispers of his hair fell lightly across his face, drawing your attention to his ocean blue eyes. "My name's William-" He nodded towards the other man, "and that's Luis."

I ignored their introductions. If they were already telling me their names, I figured they thought it was important that I know them; unfortunately, I wasn't planning to stick around long enough to get to know their life stories.

Again, I swallowed; my eyes darting between them.

I saw the blonde haired man, William, glance cautiously at his friend. He inched closer to me. "We aren't here to hurt you-"

"T-too late," I muttered, pulling my hand up to my head. Not only was the pounding caused by my lack of water and food, but also because of the knot that was beginning to grow on my forehead.

"-You ran!" William strained.  Luis chuckled from beside him and started speaking for the first time since his earlier compliment.

"Do you remember anything?"

The demeanor they had approached me with wasn't screaming 'cold-hearted killers'. It relaxed me; well, as relaxed as I could get chained to a wall. I figured if I answered them, gave them what they wanted, they might let me go.

I closed my eyes and licked my lips, my memory like static. I began to shake my head 'no', but stopped; the world had begun to spin.

I felt a hand on my shoulder, and I immediately flinched. "Sorry," Luis mumbled.

William reached into his pocket and took out a granola bar, handing it to me. "Eat slowly," he ordered.

I took the granola bar, but eyed it suspiciously.  My eyes squinted as I rotated in my hands.  I wasn't exactly sure what I was looking for, but I had seen the movies.  This was the part where they poisoned me and left me to convulse on the cold floor and die alone.

I toss the bar back to William, watching as he fumbled it, allowing it to fall in a small puddle of water near his feet.  I scoffed, "Nice try, motherfücker, but I plan on dying in a fabulous, overly dramatic way.  I refuse to have a coroner look at my body and tell my parents that my cause of death was a granola bar."

"--shame," a new voice tore my attention away from the men that were squatting before me.  They angled their bodies away from me, all three pairs of eyes lifting to the top of the stairs.  The silhouette of a man stood there and we all focused our attention on him as he made his way down the steps, "that sounds like a good way to go out."

The man took his time descending down the steps, his facial features hidden behind the darkness of the room.  His voice was deep, powerful, and demanding; laced with an accent that made him sound more dominant than the others.  The steps groan underneath the stress of his weight as he lands on the floor, "William, Luis, I didn't send you down here for a meet and greet."

I leaned to my right, trying to put a face to the intimidating voice, but both William and Luis had stood, blocking my view.  They lowered their voices and for a few tense seconds, they spoke softly, only to grow in volume and switch from English to a language I couldn't understand.

My intuition told me that this was the boss, so as loudly as I could, I started spewing out questions, "Why do you need me? Why am I here? What do you want with me?"

The man rested one hand on William's shoulder, the other on Luis's, and pushed them apart, making a gap for him.  I finally had a face to the voice.  He was tall and stood close to 6'2, maybe a centimeter shorter.  William matched his height, but Luis easily sat two inches below them.  He had strong features; a sharp jawline and piercing grey eyes.  The longer I stared, the wider his evil smile grew.

His teeth were a beautiful, pearly white. He has to use crest-white st-

I slammed my back against the wall once more as he stepped forward and crouched before me.  "Staring already?" He shot me the most devilish smile I had ever seen. His teeth were practically perfect and if I wasn't in the compromising situation that I currently found myself in, I definitely would've asked for the name of his orthodontist.

I frowned, mustering up as much of a straight face as I could. I bit down on my lip, and refused to speak. "What's your name?" He questioned a few minutes later. I heard William interject from the back.

"Liam, I don't think she remembers."

"Liam; such a pretty name for an ugly human being."

Oops, did I say that out loud?

To say the room got tense would've been an understatement. I could feel him staring at me, analyzing me, probably counting my pores - who the fück knows . . . "Look," I sighed, "Why don't we negotiate?" I heard Luis laugh.

"Negotiate?" Liam spat; an unreadable expression rested on his face, "Define that for me." Again, sarcasm dripped from his words; and I smiled as best as I could with chapped lips.

"Negotiate; n-e-g-o-t-i-a-t-e; verb; to try to reach an agreement or compromise by discussion with others." I opened my eyes, smirking; feeling like a million-bucks. Of course I was still the victim, but at least I felt better. I heard William cackle from the back, along with thick accented laughs; Luis.

"I like this one boss," William chuckled, "I really do." I could see Luis nodding in agreement. Liam frowned.

"See?" I offer up a weak smile and let my gaze land on this Liam character, "They like me, so let me go."

His eyes partially close in a glare and he leans forward, seething, "Too bad what they think doesn't matter."  Liam's face leans oh, so close to mine and I inhaled sharply, taking in a strong, yet calming vanilla scent.  His eyes fall to my cut up lips as he lowers his voice, "Don't give me any more trouble than you need to." 

He had rested his hands on his thighs, his eyes tearing from my gaze.  Liam was about to stand, his mouth already forming the next commands for his two men when I called him back.

"Oh, Liam," I mustered up as much attitude as I could, his name coming out with just as much venom as he had spoken to me with. And when he turned back to me, I did it.

I spit.

He didn't flinch, he didn't even blink. Seconds turned to minutes as he stared at me, his eyes darkening quickly.  My saliva dripped from the tip of his nose before hitting the concrete.  The room was deathly silent and I mustered up my best badass look.  If he wanted to act like a dick, so would I.

I thought he would leave; just walk away. In my head, I had already given myself the benefit of the doubt - I had won this time; showing I wasn't going to take shit from anyone. But as fast as the smirk appeared on my face, Liam wiped it away.

I didn't see the hand nor did I hear the slap; but I sure felt it. My head cracked against the concrete floor; and for the third time that day, I met darkness.

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a/n: edited. I may have missed a few grammar mistakes so I'm really sorry! To the original readers, you may note a few differences but not much! I just had to re-word and lot and make things sound less awkward.