Eve's POV
When I woke up, everything hurt. My head felt like it was throbbing, and when I tried to move, hot white pain shot through my left thigh. Tentatively, I slid my hand to where the pain was worse, near the top of my thigh. I felt something warm and sticky, and it took me a few seconds to realise that it was blood. Suddenly, I felt the overwhelming urge to break down in tears. No, Eve, I told myself, You have to stay strong. Don't let them see you cry.
So, I took a deep breath and tried to figure out what the hell had happened to me. The last thing I remembered, I was with Claire and Shane. We'd gone out for Chilli ingredients, and they'd gone into the store, and... Why hadn't I gone with them? I furrowed my eyebrows, confused. Ah, I'd been too tired; forced to work late at Common Grounds. I mentally slapped myself. You should have gone with them. If you'd gone inside, you wouldn't be in this mess. I tried to sigh, but the movement hurt my chest too much. There was no point scolding myself for it now. I just had to try and remember.
I'd been sitting in my car, waiting for them to come back, practically falling asleep right there. Then the door opened, and something hit me over the head, and... That was the last thing that I could remember. What had Claire and Shane done when they'd returned to find me gone? What had they told Michael? Had they even managed to get home, or had they been kidnapped, too?
I shifted position, and the pain burnt unbearably in my leg, but I forced myself into a sitting position, and squinted into the darkness. I was in a small room. Four solid brick walls, a wooden stool in the corner. No windows, and the one door looked like heavy, solid metal. Part of me wanted to get up and try the handle, but the other part of me just knew, that any smart kidnapped would've locked the door. And it wasn't worth the pain in my leg to move.
My leg. It still hurt, terribly, and I desperately wanted to see the wound I knew was there, but the little light escaping from under the door was misty and dim. I leant back against the cold, brick wall. Why hadn't anyone come and found me yet? Where were Claire and Shane? Where the hell was Michael? All I wanted more than anything in the world right then, was for him to hold me in his arms and tell me that everything was going to be okay. I wanted him to stroke my short, black hair, and kiss my pale cheek, and tell me that he loved me.
But he wasn't there, and I was alone and hurt, and as much as I hated to admit it, really, really scared. More scared than I'd ever been in my whole life. Because after everything I'd been through, and all the shit that'd happened, I'd never been alone. I'd always had Shane or Claire or Michael. Now who did I have?
I wanted to scream and shout and cry, and tear at the stupid door until my hands were raw and bleeding, but I couldn't. I knew it wouldn't do me any good. Shane and I had spent endless Sunday's watching CSI re-runs when we were bored. And there was not one kidnapper who ever hid the victim somewhere where people could hear them scream. And so, after what seemed like hours of depressing mental babble, I did the only thing I could do.
I waited.