FF: Hostage [NOTE- page 34] *discontinued* - Page 9

Part 2

I shook my head as I thought about the past four years of college. The idiotic stunts we pulled, laughing so hard it had become hard to breathe, but through it all, the bonds of our friendship strengthened. Sighing, I adjusted my shoulder strap. Another street and I would be home, in the air-conditioning.

"Heer! Heer! Heer slow down!"

At that I turned to see a young man of 21, built well, causing many women to turn and admire his frame, even emitting a couple of whistles. He smiled bashfully at me, completely ignoring the appreciation he was receiving, obviously used to it.

"Not bad, a week out of college and you finally remember me. Tell me, which airhead was keeping you busy now?" I teased him gently, Ranvir the heartthrob of the school. But for me he was my best friend.

"Puh-leeze Heer, listen I pass my time with those girls, I still haven't found her."

"Her?"

"Her." He said simply, smiling showing off that dimple. Smiling back at him I gestured ahead. "Walk." Saluting he walked in front of me, calling back to me;

"So I heard Uncle has started the all too-famous hunt for his much awaited son-in-law?"

I raised an eyebrow; he out of all people knew this was a touchy subject. "And so what if he has?"

He smirked at me, "Well that sort of ruins your whole impossible dream of your Prince Charming coming and sweeping you off your feet doesn't it?

I made a face at him. "Ranvir, if you know what's good for you, you will shut up about…uhh…now."

Grinning at me, he left a peck on my cheek before running down to his car. "Be ready at 7, I'll pick you up."

I waved my hand. "Yea yea yea…" I knew his saying he would be there at 7 would be more like 8:30pm. Waving as he turned a corner, I heard him honking angrily. I shook my head. Ranvir was the most compulsive driver to ever exist.

Reaching our bungalow, I stuck a hand into my bang, pulled out my keys, opened the door and stepped into darkness. I frowned. Papa should have been home by now. I groped around in the darkness before finding the light switch. I flicked it open, flooding the foyer to flood in light. Without looking around the room, I made my way to the kitchen, not hearing the door creak open behind me.

Leaning over, I impatiently pushed away the Diet Coke to grab the regular. Screw the calories. As I shut the refrigerator door shut, someone clamped his hand on my mouth.

Immediately I dropped my can, grabbing at the strong limbs that had me enveloped, one around my waist, the other clamping my mouth shut. Struggling under the force, I kicked my legs desperately, trying to get alert the neighbours but this person, whoever the hell he was, had too strong of a grip and dragged me across the kitchen floor, the whole time I had yet to see his face. But when I saw that face, trust me, he will be on his knees begging for forgiveness.

I heard him kick the back door open roughly, and with his still strong and unbreakable grip he forced me across the garden to a running car parked on the back, abandoned street. On the way to the car, he picked me up, sweeping my feet off the sooty and dusty ground. Opening the door of the old thing, he roughly forced me into the back seat, quickly tying my arms and legs with rough, long rope and taping my mouth shut all while keeping his face hidden from mine no matter how desperately I tried to get a glimpse of it. With that, he pushed me so I fell on the ground. He shut the door. All of a sudden it was all eerie. My eyes scanned the limited view I had from my oh-so comfortable spot on this icky ground of this broken down car.

This couldn't be happening to me. Not now. Not today. Not ever! This was not part of my life plan. Like no where do you see "get picked up by random, angry, young man" on the list.

All of a sudden the front door opened and assumingly the same man got in. I started trying to yell against the tape, trying desperately to get his attention. With my tied legs I started hitting against the back seat of the drivers seat. His shoulders slumped against the seat. Slowly, he turned around and without even registering the rest of his face my eyes found his. Scared into determined. With my eyes I tried to ask him what the hell he thought he was doing. He looked at me, torn between frustration and amusement. Calmly looking at me, he replied,

"Relax, you are my hostage. Better hope Daddy is good at following orders."

Confused I stared at him. Smirking he turned around and hit his foot on the gas pedal with unnecessary force. As I sat there in the back seat of the musty car all that was running through my mind was those chocolate brown eyes.