Sam is 16. Her life changed forever because of one mans sick and twisted mind? She has been kidnapped, but what the man doesn't know is that she can throw knives. It's a family tradition to learn. She tries to fend off as many people as possible and to try and save everyone. She saved josh from the man too, or has josh saved her? Are they in love or in shock? Is what happened real? Or is it a dream to conceal and protect her from her past?

And it's my first movella so it might be a little rough around the edges, but I hope you enjoy the story. :)


4. Chapter 4

The kiss is amazing. It makes me tingle all over. I close my eyes. It seems like an odd time to start a relationship but I don't care. He kissed me. I feel like a little kid. He is a very good kisser. When did he feel like this about me? When did I feel like his for him? I clear my mind. Nothing. I just pull my self closer to him. His hand is on my back pushing me closer to his chest. I'm not rejecting because I feel happy. Im so happy. I just continue kissing. I don't ever want to stop. We are now making out. All the pain in my body has gone away and has been replaced by butterflies and tingling. I can't explain how he makes me feel. I run my fingers through his hair. His light brown and blonde highlighted hair. I'm sitting on top of his lap. I won't stop. He is just to good a kisser to stop. He pulls away. Then he starts kissing my neck. I feel this is going really fast now, but it's feels so good. Too good. I want to tell him to stop but I can't. It feels wrong this going so fast. But it would feel wrong to tell him to stop. Maybe I don't want to stop at all. I don't but I'm not ready for things to go so fast. I can't stop and he certainly can't stop him self. His hands are sliding up my ribs and back. He is going for the shirt first. He goes back to kissing my mouth. It feels weird saying my mouth. I think he stopped him self. Thank god I didn't have to. His hands slide back down but not to far. He is slowing down. My hands are on his chest. Of corse he has body builder abs. That makes me kiss him faster. My hands are out of control. There trying to rip his shirt off. I think he notices because he takes his shirt off. Oh my god. He has better abs than Taylor Lautner. This is making me kiss him more and more. His hands get my shirt off. He kisses my neck. I can't stop. Stop. Stop. You need to stop. Don't stop. Don't stop. Don't ever stop. My brain is conflicting. Of corse I choose the don't stop half of my brain. He kisses me again and again back on the mouth.
"we can't do this."
Thank god he said something.
"I know, but I couldn't help it."
He laughs. I pull my shirt back on. It hurts but I'm to filled with happiness. He doesn't. I ask.
"when did you first feel this way?"
He thinks.
" when you were talking to blake. Your not his mom but you didn't tell him that because you didn't want to hurt him. What about you?"
"a few minutes before you kissed me."
He lays his head against my chest. I lay my cheek against the top of his head. It's sweaty. Gross. I don't know what to do now. I know what I want to do. I want to kiss him again but it might lead to something more. For a few moments I didn't think about escaping. I didn't think about anything but him.
"for what?"
"kissing you."
"don't be. I didn't mind."
He laughs. He grabs my hand and he intertwines his fingers with mine. I don't know why but this is making me freak out a little bit. He squeezes my hand. I calm down.
"what are we going to do?"
"about what? the kiss or escaping?"
"I'm not sure."
There is silence. I ask.
"is this protecting each other?"
"what do you mean?"
"I mean us. We kissed. I'm sure there will be more feelings to follow, but if we fall for each other is that protecting each other?, or is that hurting us?"
He sits up. I wont let him let go of my hand.
"it will only hurt us if one of us gets killed and we promised to protect each other. So I don't think we have anything to worry about."
I still worry though.
How long can we survive? How long can we live like this? I don't want to think about it. He pulls me in close.
"so, you going to put your shirt on anytime soon?"
He laughs and starts to pull away but I don't let him. I don't want to let go. I don't want him to pull away.
"why did you ask me to put my shirt on if you weren't going to let me put it on?"
"because I don't want this moment to end. This is happiness. The first that I've had since I've been here."
He is quiet. What the heck with him getting quiet over and over. I want to talk.
"I'm happy too, but I'm cold now. So can I put my shirt back on?"
I smile and sort of laugh and let him put it back on. I notice all kinds of scars on his chest before his shirt can swallow up the last bit of skin. He pulls me back in. I just think about scars. Scars I've gotten as a kid, I think about what my scars will look like when I get out of here. Why do I think I will get out? I will most likely die in here and I know it, but I keep thinking I will escape. Why would I survive? I'm just some cocky ass teenager and the worst of the worst already hates me because I almost did escape and gave him attitude. Why did I say that to him? I probably killed me and josh when I said that. I feel so normal with josh.
"that's the kind of music I listen to. Classical. Like Mozart, Beethoven, and Bach. I didn't tell you because I think it's unnatural for a teenager to listen to classical music. I listen to other stuff but I like classical the most."
"why do you like it?"
"it calms me down if I'm angry, or it makes me happy if I'm sad. I don't know why but I like."
"who is your favorite?"
"if I had to pick I would say beethoven, but I like all three. I like Mozart's name the most because when I was in 7th grade we had to pick an artist of the classical genre and do a report on them. So I picked Mozart. When I looked him up, his full name said, Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart. It think it would be cool to have a name like Wolfgang back then."
"Wolfgang. That's funny."
"yeah. Hey you never said what kind of music you listen to."
"I listen to the normal stuff but I can't stand country music."
"me too! I hate that stuff."
"cool! What kind of stuff do you draw?"
"I draw abstract. Stuff I imagine. I draw realistic, real abstract, still life, landscapes. I draw mostly abstract but I add texture so it looks real. I draw portraits to but I suck at drawing noses so I stray away from those."
"what kind of abstract do you draw?"
"mostly broken hearts."
It's hard to breath. He is technically asking about my past. He doesn't know it though.
"because for a really long time I had a broken heart. This guy broke it beyond repair. I couldn't hurt him without getting charged with assault, so I draw broken hearts. Everything I draw has a meaning. If you look at them it looks just like a good piece of art. You know it has a meaning but only I know it."
"I'm sorry. I'm sorry for asking this but what did he do?"
"it's ok. We were perfect together. He moved away. He came back. I knew we were over because he didn't want to do the long distance thing. So I assumed we would be great friends and catch up, but he wasn't the guy I fell in love with. He ignored me, and when he didn't ignore me he thought we were best friends. He waved his girlfriends in my face and then the populars got him. He thought we could be friends. He broke my heart and he thought we could be friends. I'm would have been fine if he didn't ignore and think we're friends, all he had to do was be my friend and not ignore me, but he did. He broke my heart. I hate him. I plan revenge. I will make him remember. I will make him wish he had me, make him wish he didn't ignore me. I don't hate him because of what he did, I hate him because he still makes me love him. I love him. I want to hate him for what he did, and I did hate him for that but he has his charm that makes me love him, and I hate him for it."
"wow. That was a mouthful. I'm sorry. I promise he will remember, and he will regret. I promise. I'm not saying this because I like you but because and guy who ignores a broken heart, especially a heart he broke."
"what is this? Are we dating or what?"
"if you want to."
"I do."
"what are you thinking about?"
"I'm thinking about this, and Blake."
"well find him."
"but if he is dead I don't want to find him."
"he's not dead."
"you don't know that! He could be dead because of me!"
" he could also be alive because of you!"
I let go of his hand and start to cry.
"hey I'm sorry. I didn't mean to yell."
" quit saying your sorry. It's not your fault."
I want to leave. This is not my world. I've never been in this kind of environment. I want Blake on my back and josh holding my hand. I want the man that is in charge of this little fight club to live. I want him alive when I hunt him down. I will kill him. I want to be home, at school, hanging out with friends. I want to be normal again. He took that from me. The ability to be normal. I wasn't a normal teenager before but I want to the normal side of me again, not the surviving side of me. Ok I need to think. I look at josh.
I run my fingers through his hair. It's long and matted. He must have been here for a while.
"when did you last eat and what?"
"they gave me a cheeseburger and bottled water a day ago. Why?"
"was it in a paper wrapper?"
"yeah. Why?"
"we have to be near a fast food place, and they must order a lot at once to feed everyone. Was it warm when you got it?"
"I think we're near a highway."
Were quite. I'm trying to hear cars. Please, please let me hear cars.
"YES! YES! I hear them."
I hear faint cars and the sound of a train. Faintly, only faintly though, but I hear them. Finally something good!
"I hear them! Listen josh. Do you hear them?"
He listens.
I jump to my feet with him. It hurts but I ignore the pain. He picks me up and spins me around. I let out a loud cry. He sets me down. My stitches are bleeding a little now. The stitches are on my left side, and my bullet is on my left leg.
"sorry! Are you ok?!"
"yeah... I'm fine."
He picks up the knife. The boards creak and he freezes. He hands me the knife.
"I can't throw."
"sure you can. Show me how to throw."
"I can't take my stance. Therefore I can't throw."
"just try."
I lean back. I hold up my left hand and put it in front of me and make a fist. I line up the knife. Drop my left hand. Arc my right back and swing. It hits the wall and falls. It didn't use much force. He walks over and picks it up. Normally I would throw a knife by the blade but this one was huge.
"yeah. Not my best but."
"why did you decide to throw knives?"
"for protection in case I ever got kidnapped. They drugged me when everything happened and I didn't have knives with me. So it was a bust. My dad taught me, his parents taught him and they taught them and so on."
"so it's like a family thing?"
"yeah, but my dad gave me the choice to do it. Alex didn't do it. He thought he would never use it. I assume my family was like Russian spies or something if everyone in my family knew how to do it."
He laughs. I smile. Why is it so easy to talk to him? I sit down. My leg hurts. He looks around the room. In cabinets, on tables, in drawers. He finds little bottles of alcohol. Maybe 10 or 12. Scotch, whiskey, vodka. Vodka. Gross.
"you want one for the pain?"
"no. I can't risk falling asleep again."
He opens one labeled whiskey.
"what kind of pain are you in?"
"I'm not."
"then don't drink it."
"why not?"
"because it's for pain not to get drunk."
He twists the cap back on. Thank god. I push the bottles aside. Luke walks in. Finally. He has knives and a big gun.
"so you got a plan?"
He just looks at me. He doesn't have one. I can tell.
"no. But I managed to snag this."
He tosses me a cell phone. Not mine.
"do you know where we are?"
"here let me call them."
He takes the phone. He has a little conversation with the person. He hangs up.
"there coming."
We all cheer together. I stand up. I take a knife and limp over to Luke.
"take me to him."
Josh comes over and picks me up. I almost fall out of his arms because I didn't expect him to pick me up. Luke takes us to the hallway. That's a good sign. That means that Blake is alive.
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