Reckless (Enemies to Lovers 2)

I manage to yank my face away from the sickly smelling cloth. “Let me go!” I scream, while kicking and hitting at anything.

I try hard to push myself up with my arms, but I keep getting shoved back down.

“Go-Go-Go!” Steven yells. “We’ve got the package.”

Something slams hard against the side of my head and then there’s a sharp prick in my right arm. I try to yank away but it’s too late.

My whole world wobbles and spins.

CHAPTER TWO

Cara

The world blurs and at first, I think I’m still dreaming, and that I’m under water, but then I taste the sweetness on my tongue. I always taste the metallic taste of blood in my dreams and this is not it. This is sickly sweet.

My eyes feel heavy but I pry them open, squinting around me. It’s dark and whatever I’m on makes a hollow banging sound as I push myself into a sitting position. I wait for my eyes to adjust but they don’t. Shit! It’s really dark in here, as if I’ve been dropped into a pot of ink.

“Hello?” I whisper, because I’m too scared to say it out loud. There’s no answer, only the harsh echo of my own pathetically scared voice.

I get up slowly, carefully testing the ground beneath my feet, and again it makes the hollow banging sound. I must be standing on some sort of metal sheet ... I think.

My arms stretch out automatically, scared that I’ll bump into something. It’s as if my balance just up and left me, and fear sets in, throwing my senses totally off.

I’m too scared to move, but I know I can’t just stand here. My whole body starts to tremble as if it only caught on now that we’re in a huge amount of shit.

“Come on, Cara,” I try to talk some courage into my terrified mind. “Find a way out. You just need to find a way out. Stay calm and don’t lose it.”

I take small steps forward, my hands shaking terribly. When I walk into a solid wall, my breathing turns to rapid gasps of terror. “No! Shit, where am I?”

I feel my way along the wall, but find nothing but another wall, and then another … and another. The space is so small.

“Fuck! I’m so deep in shit. They’re gonna kill me. Oh, God. I’m dead! How did they find me? What did I do wrong?” Panic sets in, ceasing all common sense. I feel my way to a corner and I slide down until my butt hits the floor. I press back against the cold, hard surface until I’m practically one with it.

Dread makes the dark reach at me with clawing fingers. It makes time slow down and the air thin. The horror of my situation makes my insides quiver and my mouth dry.

Seconds tick over into bloodcurdling, terror-filled minutes.

Minutes slither into what feels like unnervingly scary hours.

I don’t know what time it is. I don’t know if it’s night or day outside. I don’t know who has me, or why.

I know nothing but naked terror.

I’m gripping my knees tightly to my chest, rocking myself, when I hear a loud bang against the one wall. I shriek and press further back into the cold metal. What the fuck was that?

I’ve been going through stages. First panic, then fear. Then I’ll start to reason with myself that I will find a way to escape until I’m calm again. Anger comes last, where I start to plan ways of defending myself until I’m filled with rage and I’m imagining ways I’m going to kill whoever has me.

I go from feeling hot to cold in seconds, from crying hysterically to just rocking myself like some crazy person.

But right now, all I feel is paralyzing fear, unlike anything I’ve felt before.

I keep thinking that any second can be my last second.

I keep worrying that I’ll run out of air. What if I’m buried and I don’t even know it!

I keep imagining dying in this black hole, and no one will ever know.

I hear a key rattle in the door and then light spills into the tiny room. A frightened yelp slips from my dry lips. I quickly scan my surroundings before the light is taken from me. It’s only gray walls, a gray floor and gray ceiling. It looks like a tiny box.