Chapter 91

Carol’s POV

I don’t know what time it is when I wake up. But when I opened my eyes, everything was dark. Panic consumed me when I realized I couldn’t move my arms or legs. They were bound together, and I had something in and wrapped around my mouth. Whoever took me gagged me.

I let out a distressed scream, but the gag in my mouth muffled it. Tears pricked the corners of my eyes as I struggled against the bound. Only to kick what felt like a wall. It was at that moment I realized we were moving. There was only a tiny speck of light in my peripheral view and when we hit a bump, my head hit the roof of whatever I was encased in.

Holy shit.

I was inside of a trunk.

I had no idea how long we had been on the road and how far away from the stadium we were. But we were seemingly driving fast. My heart raced at a rapid speed inside of my chest and my body trembled as realization dawned on me. They took me away from Aiden while he was in the middle of the game. Which meant he probably wouldn’t notice me missing until it was over.

I was doomed; there was no way I was going to get out of this. At least not until they took me out of the trunk, and I was able to assess the situation. My head ached from where they had hit me to knock me out was dizzy from being thrashed around in the trunk.

What did these guys want with me? I don’t have anything to offer them. Whatever they wanted, I had a feeling they were working for someone else. But the question remains, who?

I kept using my bound legs to kick the roof of the trunk, trying to get it open with all my strength, but with no luck. I sighed in defeat and when the car halted, jerking me backward and making me thrash my head against the interior for the hundredth time, I thought I was going to pass out again from the sudden blow to my head.

I heard a car door slamming shut and the muttering of a man as he came around the side of the car. My heart was hammering against the chest when I heard the trunk door latching and the opening. I was nearly blinded by the sunlight, and I had to squint to see better and just turn my eyes to the sudden lights.

Two of the men who kidnapped me stood over me, glaring at me with angry looks.

“She wasn’t supposed to wake up yet,” one of the men said through his teeth. “How much of that shit did you give her?”

“Enough where she shouldn’t have woken up for another several hours,” the other man said, glaring at me with disgust all over his face.

I swallowed hard, which was difficult with the gag in my mouth. From their conversation, it was obvious they had drugged me. Apparently hitting me over the head and making me pass out wasn’t enough. They had to inject me with something to make me sleep. But apparently, it wasn’t enough because I woke up sooner than they wanted.

I would have laughed at their ideocracy if I wasn’t in such a shitty position. I wanted to ask them what they wanted me for and where they were taking me. But once again, that proved to be difficult with the gag in my mouth.

“I can knock her out again,” one of them said, a glimmer of humor in his eyes.

“If you accidently kill her, we’ll all be in deep shit,” the other man said, shaking his head as he walked back around the car.

The other man stayed behind to keep an eye on me.

“You’re lucky she’s paying us quite a bit for you,” he told me, a humorless laugh escaping his lips.

Who? Who was paying him for me? Could it be Katrina? Was she evil enough to pay these men to kidnap me? Had she lied when she said she didn’t know who it was that wanted them out of prison? She was obviously my first thought, but something about the accusation didn’t feel right in the pit of my stomach.

No; there was someone else. Someone who really wanted me and would pay these men to do their dirty work for her. At least, according to this one man, it was her.

The other man returned moments later with a syringe, and I squealed at the sight of it. I wiggled and thrashed against my bindings, well aware that I was only making my situation that much worse. I really shouldn’t show these guys this amount of weakness and fear. Men like this feed off of weakness and fear and I was handing it over like an all-you-can-eat buffet.

I felt sick to my stomach, and I thought I was going to throw up with this gag in my mouth. That was how I was going to die; by choking on my own vomit. I cringed at the very thought.

“This outta do the trick,” the man with the syringe said, glaring down at me. “I doubled the dosage. She’ll be knocked out at least until we get there.”

“Just hurry up. I don’t want to hit any traffic.”

Tears pricked the corner of my eyes as the man neared me with the needle. He grabbed my hair and yanked me forward, exposing my neck to him. I shuddered from his touch, hating how his greasy hands felt on my soft skin. I clenched my jaw as his face was only inches from mine. I could smell his foul breath and it made me want to vomit even more; my stomach was turned over completely.

“Nighty night,” he said, giving me a chilling smile just before he plunged the needle into the softest part of my neck and injected me with whatever poison was inside the vile. For a moment, it felt like the insides of my body were burning. I wanted to scream in agony, but I couldn’t. I could hardly even move my body. Everything felt heavy and soon, so did my eyelids.

He released his hold on me and fell back against the trunk, my head hitting the trunk floor. The last thing I remembered before everything went dark, was the sound of the trunk slamming shut.

….

Aiden’s POV

The game was close by the time halftime came around. I was drenched in sweat, and I had a bruised tailbone along with a couple of scratches from other team members. I was angry because the Capital were playing dirty; not that I expected anything less from them. But it felt like they were more focused on making sure I bleed than they were in the actual game.

I got that they were pissed at me for leaving them, but they had to understand that shit happens, and I didn’t feel as if I belonged with them anymore.

The buzzer rang, indicating halftime and I could finally breathe. We had medics on standby in case of bad injuries. Even minor injuries we were supposed to get looked at it. I dreaded this part of the game.

The medic took me to their station and patched me up; giving me some antibiotics and pain medication for the bruises and cleaning up the scratches along my jawline from when one of the players ripped my helmet off.

As the medic patched me, I glanced over at the bleachers, expecting to see Carol back in her seat and waiting for me to see her between the games. But she wasn’t there. But brows furrowed together at the sight of her empty seat. Then I looked over at the coach station to see if she was speaking with the coach, but she wasn’t.

She left the stadium about 30 minutes ago to take a phone call and I hadn’t seen her since. I thought she would have come back by now. Panic started to rise in me like bile, but I kept it down, not wanting to overreact if she was running to the bathroom or something.

When the medic finally stopped patching me, I quickly ran to Coach who was in the middle of a conversation with the other team’s coach and Mr. Whitlock.

“Hey, Coach, have you seen Carol around?” I asked, not caring that I interrupted their conversation, or that the other coach was staring daggers at me.

“No, I haven’t,” Coach Bower says, looking at me from over his shoulder. “But if you find her, tell her to come speak with us. It’s not like her to not be down here with us during the halftime.”

I nodded, trying hard not to panic. I ran up the stairs, taking two at a time, and burst through the doors to the recession area. It was packed with people refilling their drinks, getting food, and buying game swag. Most of them stopped what they were doing to gawk at me, and I ignored the clicking of the cameras from the paparazzi along with their ramble of questions.

I looked all around the recession stands in hopes that maybe she was in line getting food or a drink. She wasn’t there.

I immediately went ot the bathroom, ignoring the long line of women waiting and I burst through the doors. Multiple women screamed at the sight of me, and some cursed me telling me to get out. I ignored them as well.

“Carol!” I yelled in the bathroom, hoping and praying she was there.

She wasn’t.

I could hardly breathe as I quickly left the bathroom and ran through the recession area once more before heading outside to see if maybe she was still outside. Most of the outside was vacant besides a couple of people taking a smoke break outside the front doors.

My breathing picked up as I spun around, trying to get a single glimpse of her.

“Carol!!” I yelled through the night, my voice traveling and echoing through the night’s air.

There was no sound in response.

I ran my fingers through my hair as I started to wander aimlessly through the parking lot, probably looking pathetic no doubt.

But then I froze when something caught my eye.

“No…” I whispered as I ran to the object in the middle of the parking lot. I dropped to my knees and scooped it into my hands. I didn’t have to smell it to know who it belonged to.

It was a shoe… and it belonged to Carol.