BEATRICE

Experiencing new things was suppose to be good for you, but Beatrice doubted that could be applied to her current situation.

It all began when she was grabbed off the street and thrown into a waiting vehicle. How it would end was anyone’s guess but, with the way things were going, she didn’t think it would be in her favour.

The two men who’d grabbed her were large, over six feet tall, and broad — packed with muscles and enough testosterone to shrink their balls to the size of a pea. Beatrice debated on saying this out loud, but decided it wouldn’t be worth the effort.

She was tossed in the back and the men took the front seats for themselves. Fine with her; this gave her more room to maneuver.

Sliding across the back seat until she was behind the driver, Beatrice reached forward, arms on either side, and snagged the seat belt the driver was wearing. With it firmly in her grasp, she pressed her knees against the seat and leaned backwards. The belt slid into place across the man’s throat, digging into her fingers as she applied as much pressure as she could manage.

“What the fuck,” the guy on the passenger’s side swore as he half turned in his seat and, with a flick of his wrist, smacked Beatrice in the shoulder.

The pain was sharp, causing her to lose her grip on the seat belt. She fell onto the back seat, glaring at the one who’d struck her. ‘What the fuck’ was right. He’d barely put any force behind the blow and yet Beatrice could already tell her shoulder would be sore for at least a few days because of that one blow.

The driver coughed a few times, massaging his throat. “Dammit. Didn’t expect that.” He glanced in the rearview mirror, glaring at her as she pulled herself back up. “He said not to hurt her; but if she does that again…”

“I’m not done yet,” she muttered, pushing her body between the two front seats and grabbing the wheel.

“No you don’t,” the passenger growled, his massive hand clamping itself onto the same shoulder he’d struck. Beatrice gritted her teeth against the pain — the man’s grip was insane — and gave the wheel a sharp jerk. The sound of tires screeching met her ears as the force of the turn she’d caused threw her against the driver’s seat.

“Fuck’s sake,” the driver shouted as he tore her hands from the wheel and worked to gain control of the vehicle. Horns were blaring as they whipped across two lanes of traffic, leaving Beatrice with a sense of satisfaction. There was more where that came from. She was only getting started.

“Enough of this,” the passenger stated as he grabbed Beatrice’s shoulder for the third time. She struggled against his grip, but there was no breaking free.

She watched as he opened the glove compartment with his free hand and pulled out a syringe. The sight of it made her struggled twice as hard. “Don’t you dare bring that near me,” she yelled, her nails digging into his arm. It was like he couldn’t feel pain, because no matter how hard she dug and scratched, drawing blood more times than not, he didn’t so much as flinch.

The pinch of the syringe as he pushed it into her neck was soon followed by pressure as he emptied its contents into her body. Within seconds, the world began to fade and he released Beatrice from his grip. The last thing she saw was the fucker’s smug face before everything went black.

—

Consciousness came back in drips and drabs. At first, Beatrice could only feel the movement of the vehicle beneath her, but it didn’t take long for her brain to kick in and remind her of what had happened. Her body, on the other hand, still felt sluggish, which didn’t leave her with many options. It didn’t mean she was about to give up, but she would need to think of something other than making a break for it.

The men didn’t talk as they drove, leaving Beatrice to her thoughts as she played possum; surprise was her only weapon against men twice her size. Let them think she was still drugged.

By the time they came to a stop, the sluggish feeling in her limbs was nearly gone. This gave her some hope. They might believe she was still feeling the effects of whatever drug had been in the syringe, causing them to lower their guard.

The door at her feet opened and Beatrice wasn’t happy to see a new face. He was as jacked as the other two assholes and just as tall. Was everyone involved in her abduction part of some muscle head cult?

The new guy leaned in, bracing a hand against the door frame as he peered down at her, a curious look on his face. “So this is—“ He wasn’t able to finish his sentence. His guard hadn’t been up, which was how Beatrice managed to slam her foot into his groin, following it up with a kick to his face. She felt his nose break through her shoe, causing a smirk to spread across her face. No matter how big the man, a hit to the balls — and nose — was always enough to make him rethink his life choices.

VERIFYCAPTCHA_LABELVerify