Taken {Complete}

*One Direction Fan-fiction*: Katie is your seemingly average 18 year old, but with a scarred past. After escaping her parents and ending up across the country in the big wonder of Manhattan, one of the most heavily populated boroughs of New York City, she thinks the worst of her problems are behind her. She just wants a normal life, to grow up and maybe dabble in music, to just live her life. With her previous happenings, she's basically given up on love, but you can be happy with friends, right? But when she is kidnapped late one night after a long night at work, will she escape, or will her past come back to haunt her? All she wanted was to be normal, but she knows now that can never happen.


1. The Chase

  The sun was just setting in Manhattan as I pushed my way out of my small yet suitable apartment. I have lived here for two years, with not much change in my surroundings. And for these two years, I've kept the same job, at this high-end restaurant in the middle of Manhattan. 

  I step onto the bus, showing the driver my pass, and the bus lurches forward as I take my seat. My ride will take about fifteen minutes, as usual. I lean my head against the window and think about how I got to where I am now, as bus windows always make me think about life. 
  I am eighteen, and I have lived in Manhattan since I was sixteen. I moved out of the house early, away from my mom and her boyfriend, whom I despise. 
  My mom got herself into a bit of trouble, along the lines of money. She is an alcoholic and was a drug addict, which is where the money went, wasted on the pills she didn't need. Nearly killed herself by overdose, which finally allowed some sense in her, and she quit, with the help of Phil, her boyfriend. 
  Rose, my mother, didn't even have a chance to stop me, and now doesn't even know where I'm at, thank God. I don't even want to begin to think about the punishment I'd get from her and Phil if they found me after I fled. 
  I had been saving up money since I started high school, getting a little here and there, stealing some from my mother now and again when she was too high or drunk to notice. 
Finally, I got the guts to leave after I had enough money, so that's exactly what I did. I caught the nearest plane out of the state of California. 
  I still miss it there, but not who I was with. I didn't really have any friends there, besides Ellie Gold, but she passed away last year. I've been through a rough ride, and my life is scarred for sure, but I am strong, and I always have been. I have pushed it behind me, and don't dare to dwell in the past, though I still have nightmares about... him. I never want to even hear his name, or even have to think of him ever again. It brings me too much pain. As long as I look past it, and to the future, I'm fine, usually.
  The bus bell chimes for my stop as I pick my head off the window, quickly wiping off the fog my breath created on the cold window. I look out the window as I stand, drinking in the familiar sight of my work place. I hustle off the bus and head into work, checking in and going in the back to my locker to get my stuff.
  I am the person who checks people in with reservations on the evening and night shift, and guide them to their tables, sending them a waitress, then they come back to me so I can take care of the money for the bill. It's pretty simple, but it does pay the bills.
  A group of five boys walk in, my first set of the night, keeping their heads down and muttering things to each other. They glance up at me, then bend their heads and whisper to each other some more. All of them are wearing dark hoodies and sunglasses, which looks sketchy, but I put on a smile as one walks up to me.
  "Reservation for Jordan," he mutters in a deep British accent that sounds oddly familiar, but I can't place it. If I heard it on television somewhere or something like that it wouldn't surprise me, as many people that come here are famous. It might explain the hoodies. 
  I don't care though; I've seen my share of celebrities, and most of them are just snobs. I look down my list, scanning for the name, and look up as I find it.
  "Right here, reservation for five. Right this way," I say politely, guiding them to their reserved table. "Your waitress will be here shortly," I turn to walk away, when another British accent, though not the same as before, pipes up behind me.
  "You're very nice. Thanks, love," he says, and I turn around and force a smile, even though it bugs me he called me love.
  I don't care if it's normal for him, I find it uncomfortable as I don't even know him.
  "Of course. Have a nice night," I nod curtly, this time walking away before another one of them could speak. 
  Well, that was awkward...
  I get to my counter, buzzing for Cathie, my friend who is a waitress here. She is more of a friendly colleague, as we only ever really talk here. 
  "Hey Cath, table seven needs you. Watch out though, they seem a bit sketchy." 
  I hear her laugh on the other end before she replies. 
  "Sure thing Katie, I'll be right there. That'll be my last table for the night," she states happily, and I can tell she's glad to get out of here. I will be too, once my shift is over. 
  "Thanks," I finish, turning to look for her. 
  I see her walk out from the back and towards the table, and I softly head her bright and cheery voice from here as she smiles and takes their orders. I begin to feel uneasy as I watch them glance at me several times as they whisper to their friends.
  I am then alerted of new customers at the door as the entrance bell chimes and I put on a smile, turning to the newcomers. The couple, hand in hand, walk up to me slowly, talking softly to each other before turning to me.
  "Hello. Do you have a reservation?" I ask, and the man nods.
  "Yes. Reservation for Parker, please," he says, and I glance at my list, the name Parker at the top. 
  I guide them to a table and feed them the same line of getting them a waitress before leaving and buzzing for Delilah, another coworker that I know, but not that well. I send her to the table, and the next half hour goes on the same, me asking for or just receiving a reservation, before leading them to a table and giving them the standard line.
    I see the group of five guys, with two I know are British, stand and bring the bill folder up to me. I smile politely, though it doesn't reach my eyes, as I take it from them and ring it up, taking the cash and placing it in the register. 
  Glancing  up as I work, I see them yet again whispering to each other while stealing glances at me. I shift the weight from one foot to another uneasily as I look back down at what I'm doing, finishing and standing up straight to hand them their receipt.
  One of them turns to me as I open my mouth to speak, but he says something first.
  "So..." he squints at my small name plaque pinned to my shirt, and then continues with a cheeky smile, his eyes and hair still hidden by his hoodie and glasses, "Katie, are you from around here?" he asks, awaiting my answer expectantly.
  "No," I answer shortly, and it's not a total lie. I don't live in this part of town, and I don't know it very well. 
  "Have a good evening," I force the words out as I hand him his receipt, becoming unnerved by his sudden interest in me. 
  Before he can say anything else, I turn to some other customers behind them waiting to get their bill taken care of as well. I take it from them and the group of boys are forced to leave, but I can tell it's not what they wanted to do since they retreat slowly. 
  I don't dare to look up and instead busy myself with my work until they leave, feeling slightly shaken. I roll my eyes, annoyed at myself for taking it to heart, and softly laugh it off, too quiet to attract the attention from others. I busy myself in my work for the next couple hours, feeling restless to get home.

  After an uncountable amount of customers later, I look up to see that the clock reads 10:30.
  Yes, only half an hour until the restaurant closes and I can head home for the night!
  Half and hour later, I find myself handing the last people their receipt. As they leave, I run to my locker, giddy like a child to get home. 
  I'm a bit hungry, but for the most part, I just want to sleep. I realize I can't find my phone, beginning a frantic search to find it, when finally I find my iPhone laying on the shelf under my counter, and I sigh with relief. 
  "Trying to hide from me, are you?" I mutter quietly, laughing as I slip it into my pocket, grabbing my jacket. 
  "Last table left, I'm heading out!" I shout as I slide on my jacket. 
  I hear a barely audible shout of confirmation, and smile as I slip out the door. My smile turns into a frown as I pull out my phone, seeing the time and realizing that I missed the bus home. I sigh and mutter a small string of profanities, beginning my walk home in silence. 
  A movement behind me barely catches my eye as I'm grabbed from behind, firm hands latching around my midsection and plastering my arms to me sides. 
  "What-" my loud, accusing voice is cut off as another figure places his hand on my mouth, though a bit carelessly.
  I bite his hand, satisfaction flowing through me as help yelps in pain and surprise, snatching his hand away to inspect it in the dim light of the street lamps.
  "What the fuck?" says the guy I bit, in an all-too-familiar British accent, though slightly different from the two  before.
  My eyebrows knit together in confusion, realization dawning on me as I recognize two of the five guys in hoodies and sunglasses from the restaurant.
  I struggle furiously in my captors arms, and I hear him laugh. I slowly glance around to see if there is anyone near us to help me. To my disappointment, I see no one. 
  I'll just have to run then.
  Quickly thinking, I go limp, and he loosens his grip, thinking I've given up. I use this to my advantage, and with a new-found strength for the will to survive, I burst out if his arms and race past him, running quickly past the one I'd bitten.
  "Fuck!" they shout simultaneously, and I can hear them race after me.
  I don't look back, pushing my legs harder and harder to carry me away from the creeps trying to kidnap me. 
  "Katie, stop!" one of them shouts, which only fuels me to go faster.
    I turn to the left when I reach the corner, and screech in fear as I see the other three of the five running towards me.  
  I backtrack, luckily far enough ahead of the two running behind me to turn back and continue on a straight path instead. Behind me, I hear strings of profanities muttered by all five of them, and I run even faster than I thought I ever could. 
  Doing track for two years has its benefits. My breathing becomes labored as I turn random corners, weaving through obstacles, now lost. I don't hear them behind me anymore though as I round another corner, daring a glance behind me, slowing down with a sigh of relief as I see no sign of them. 
  I stick to the shadows, just in case, but walk this time, quickly catching my breath. I round another corner and head into it, only to realize its a dead end. I sigh, turning around, only to have my body tighten in fear as I see the five hooded figures advancing towards me, blocking off my escape. 
  A whimper escapes my lips as I back up slowly, as I hear one of them chuckle. 
  "Going somewhere, love?" says the same voice that called me love back in the restaurant. 
  I shudder at his tone, which is calm, but in a way that is definitely threatening.
  The reality of what's happening hits me all at once."W-what do you want?"
  The same one steps forward, the one seeming to be the leader, and he holds out his hand to me. I shrink away from it in fear though, and he sighs.
  "You, Katie," I could feel my eyes widen at that, as they all slowly advance towards me.
  I jump as my back hits the brick wall behind me, and I realize I have no escape now. I stare defiantly at the people looming before me, and I am determined to go down fighting. 
  The one in front reaches me first and grabs my arm, but my reflexes kick in and I lift the arm of mine he is holding so his right arm is up, then use my left hand to jab the sensitive spot on his side, then being my knee up to where the sun doesn't shine. 
  I spin away from him as he shouts at me, falling to the ground and clutching himself. Seeing an opening between two of them, I fake left then race right, my instincts kicking in as I lean low and run past them, elbowing the one on my right in the groin. 
  As he falls to the ground, I race out of the ally, but make the mistake of turning to check behind me. The one nearest to me lunges for my waist, and just barely manages to take me down, but then he straddles me, sitting on me with my wrists pinned under his knee. 
  Screaming as I struggle, I try desperately to knee him as well, but he just chuckles at my failed attempts as he is sitting on part of my thighs, not allowing my knees to reach that far. I try rolling under him, but gasp at the pain that shoots through my wrists as I do.
  "You've brought this on yourself, love," he says, though it's a different one from before, one I haven't heard speak. 
  He places a rag over my nose and mouth, obviously soaked in chloroform, and instantly I'm thankful he did it right after I took a breath. I fake falling into unconsciousness, pretending to breath by moving my chest up and down, slower and slower to imitate my body relaxing. 
  The rag is removed and I'm lifted off the ground, and in that instant I silently gasp for my breath, slowing my breathing back down to the soft shallow breathes they think I should be breathing.

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