Kidnapping Rachel

Mute by choice, seems weird, right? In the world of Rachel Vahn things are complicated, and broken. She's sick, and untreated. She's abused by her father. Her mom has been dead for years, and now Rachel has had enough. Things take a turn for weird when Rachel is kidnapped by the world's biggest heartthrobs, One Direction.

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8. Chapter 8

Niall

I woke up with a sigh, remembering how I had confessed all my insecurities to this nameless girl. I looked in her direction, she looked thin still. I looked over her bruises, taking them all in as they subsided slowly. The bruises looked like blankets as they carefully lay over her scars. I sighed again as I pushed myself off of the bed.

"She's got to go, she can't stay here." I hear Harry yell from downstairs.

I shake my head and slowly walk out of my room. I hear vulgarity being used heavily as new voices join in to defend the nameless girl.

"Why can't she stay, Harry?" I ask, standing at the foot of the stairway, looking at the boys.

"She won't even talk to us. She is just faking it. We don't even know her name. We know nothing about her, why do you care so much about her?" He spat in anger.

"You're right, we don't know anything about her. You can't say that she's faking it. I care about her because I'm not heartless, unlike you." I say, getting angrier. I continue on, "You hit the girl, I don't care if she's faking or not. You just don't hit girls, Harry."

"She wasn't saying anything, and she didn't scream when you took her." He said through his teeth.

"Whatever Harry, just stay away from her if you don't like her." I suggested.

"Why hasn't she tried to escape, then? She likes it here, this isn't a kidnapping anymore."

"You're right, this isn't a kidnapping, and it never was. It was a rescue. An attempt to fix a broken soul." I said softly, shaking my head.

Harry sighed, his face softening, and his shoulders slumping.

I walked into the kitchen, and made a sandwhich. After I finished eating, I glanced at the clock. 12:34 p.m. I decided to go wake up the girl in my bed. I was going to take her out today, I thought to myself. I skipped up the stairs to my room and found that she wasn't there.

I furrowed my brow in confusion, but then I heard a noise come from my ensuite. I walked towards the door, and knocked.

She opened the door soon after, she was holding her head with a pained expression. Her other hand held onto her stomach as she turned turned back around and vomitted. I came from behind her and pulled her pale hair back, it had a layer of grease on it from lack of cleaning. When she was finally finished, I looked at her, she looked so sick, and dirty.

"Do you want to take a shower?" I asked her quietly.

She nodded eagerly, as her eyes lit up. I handed her some clothes, and explained how to turn the shower on, and gave her a towel. I started to exit, when she grabbed my wrist.

She mouthed a thank you to me, clearly not ready to use her words, and smiled apprehensively.

"Don't worry about it, I'll be right outside the door if you need me." I said, and exited.

I was falling for her hard, and I didn't know if I would be able to get back up, once I fell.

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