There are five guys total in this van. One driving. Three looking out the window. Jonathan staring at me. I feel sick to my stomach.

It didn't take me long to realize I left my phone. There is no way for me to save my own life unless someone miraculously finds me wherever these men are taking me to.

"Why-" I begin, voice shakier than I want.

"Sh," Jonathan says, still staring at me. "We'll get to that later."

I look away, a violent shudder running through my entire body. I'm completely and hopelessly unprepared for this. I shouldn't have let my guard down about Jonathan. I knew he was out there somewhere.

"But where-"

"I said, be quiet," he says, looking irritated.

"I deserve-"

"Shut up," he says. Then he leans closer and before I know what's happening, hot white pain erupts on my cheek. I let out a gasp, my hand touching the mark where his hand just slapped gently. "Listen to what I tell you to do next time."

I stay quiet now, shaking through my bones. I think I let out a whimper once or twice. I bite my lip to keep from crying out in fear. Will I ever get out of this mess?

I don't know how long the drive takes, probably hours, but I can't relax. Every muscle in my body is tense and alert. Every bump on the road makes me jump. Every sound makes me wince.

My nightmares have come true.

I need Owen. I need him to find me. The thought brings tears pooling into my eyes. I clamp my jaw down and force my tears back inside. I can't show them such weakness.

The can stops, finally, but I dread the exit far more than I dreaded this car ride.

"Blindfold her," Jonathan says lazily.

Before I know how to react, two pair of hands are on me. One grabs my arms to hold me still. The other wraps a nasty smelling rag around my head to cover my eyes.

"Let's go."

The man who holds my arms behind my back keeps them there as he shoves me out of the van. I didn't expect that to happen so quickly, and evidently, my face smacks into the concrete. I close my eyes, biting on my lip as I try to pick myself up off the ground.

"Get up," the man grunts at me. He practically throws me onto my feet and I'm forced forward in a brisk pace.

After a few turns, I'm stopped and a lock is twisted. My head is aching and I can feel a scrape on my cheek bleeding from where I fell. My mind is wandering to so many different terrible places of what might happen to me here, and I don't want to think about it anymore.

There's a creak of a heavy metal door, and I'm ushered inside. Let me tell you, it's absolutely terrifying being somewhere with people you don't know and don't trust, blindfolded, and not knowing where we're walking in to.

"Put her down," Jonathan's deep voice calls, and the door slams shut.

The man holding onto my arms releases me, and I stumble a few steps before ripping off the blindfold with a few deep breaths. I blink a few times to get used to the dim light. It's practically a cellar. There are two worn couches, and that's about it. It's about twelve by twelve feet. One light that isn't doing its job very well. Five men staring at me. One of which is wearing a smirk, and he goes by Jonathan.

"Wha-what is this about?" I gasp, catching my breath.

"Calm down, Brinley, I don't want to hurt you," he says.

I want to laugh. A manic laugh. The terror in feeling needs an outlet and the irony of that statement presses out a dry laugh.

"Don't you disrespect me," he steps forward, not smiling anymore.

"I-I wasn't."

"Listen here," he says, now not a foot away from me. "You're safe here, as long as you cooperate-"

"Cooperate with what?" I ask him quietly.

He lifts a hand and I flinch, expecting him to smack me again. I'm shivering even though it's not cold in here.

"I speak. You do not. Understand?" He says.

I nod silently, chewing on my lip so hard that I taste blood.

"That scum you call a boyfriend has been threatening me for quite some time," Jonathan says. "It's really bothersome, and I don't like that. I'm not causing any harm, am I? Am I?" He asks the second time much more loudly.

I shake my head a few times, eyes wide.

"I only want to see you, Brinley. Because I can't let go of you. Nobody else is right for me. You can deal with my flaws, I know you can," he says. "You've done it before."

I can deal with his flaws? Does this look like I'm dealing with them? I'm standing in a dank room, with five men twice the size of me that just kidnapped me. I absolutely accept the flaws.

"I know you loved me, Brinley," he continues. "I know you did, but that pretty boy talked you out of this, out of us."

He grabs my hands in his now, and I hold my breath. The stench of alcohol on how breath is so strong that I actually have to squint. His grimy hands on me make me want to bolt.

"We can make this work," he says. "I want you to see what you're missing out on without the biases of your little puppy dog friends." He looks absolutely disgusted by the topic.

"Do you," I say in almost a whisper, testing it out to see if I'll be punished for opening my mouth. He does nothing. I continue. "Do you think that I'll want to stay with you if you keep threatening me like this?"

"I don't want to threaten you. I don't want to hurt you," he says. "I want your loyalty. I want your trust. This might be the only way to earn that."

"Maybe," I let out a shaky breath, "I don't want to stay here, to have anything to do with you."

"You don't know what you're saying," he growls at me, not five inches from my face. "You belong to me."

"I am not property," I say firmly.

He shoves me back against the cement wall just behind me and pins me against it. His fingers grab the collar of my shirt, and I can see the the yellow of his teeth he's so close.

"Don't you dare speak to me that way," he says in a low and dangerous voice.

I'm breathless, unable to move or say a word to defend myself.

"You love me or you love nobody," Jonathan looks far more unappealing in this dim light up close than he ever has. "Is that clear?"

I nod once. "Yes." I can't even hear my reply.

He releases his grip on me. Turns around. "Put her in the room."

Two men are on me as quickly as Jonathan had let go of me. They drag me away to a new doorway. The room is hardly five square feet, and it's all concrete, no light, nothing. They toss me inside and shut the door. I hear it lock from the outside.

I am terrified of the dark.

I am terrified of kidnappings.

I am terrified of Jonathan.

I am terrified of not knowing what's next.

I am terrified.

I crawl into a corner and curl into a ball, sobs overcoming me almost instantly. I try to clear my mind of everything that's happened. I try to pretend I'm at home, nothing is wrong. I try to assure myself that Owen will find me. He will rescue me. But nothing seems to clear my mind. Nothing helps.

I am hopeless.

My family is in Missouri. What will they think when they get back and find out that I'm dead? What will Clarin think when I don't answer her daily phone call?

I want to be at Owen's apartment. I want to happily watch a movie. I want to eat whatever he cooks. I want him by my side to shield away all danger.

But no. I am here, in a cold, dark cement room all alone. Five men are outside of it ready to snap me in half if I do anything wrong.

I fall into a restless sleep, trying to stay as calm as a person in my situation can be.