(PLEASE NOTE: Michael will be different in this story. If you are not okay with this, please don't read.) Disclaimer: I own none of these amazing characters. No infringement is intended.)
The party was going full swing, but Sara was more then ready to leave. She had been hit on by countless men she had no interest in, and her third ginger ale was now warm in her hand.
She saw the hostess, her best friend Kirsty and made her way through the crowded room.
"Hey, Sara…" Her friend paused to study her, and then pretending to pout, "You're not having any fun are you?"
Sara shook her head the lie already on her lips, "It's not that. I just have a bit of a headache. I think I might head home, I mean, I haven't been much fun tonight anyways."
"You're right, you haven't been much fun tonight, "Kirsty teased, a gleam in her alcohol glazed eyes. "Just kidding, go home Sara, I know you worked late at the hospital tonight, besides this way I get that hot guy over there who has been checking you out."
Sara followed her friend's eyes to the man standing in the corner of the room. He had dark hair and was wearing jeans and a blue shirt, his face was covered in two day stubble. She met his eyes and he smiled.
Sara pulled her gaze back to Kirsty. "Well he isn't my type, so have at him."
Kirsty grinned, "Who is your type these days, Sara?"
Sara laughed and fished her keys out of her purse. "I don't have a type these days, Kirsty."
Her friend nodded. "Right, so I get them all!"
Sara shook her head and headed for the door as Kirsty headed across the room to greet Mr. Tall dark and handsome.
Sara was still smiling at her friend's antics as she took the stairs and headed down the walk to her car. She was parked on the street about a block down from Kirsty's apartment, and she had considered herself lucky to get such a close spot, what with having arrived so late to the party.
She spotted her car and pushed the key fob to unlock the doors. She was just about to step from the curb when a hand clamped over her lips. "Don't scream, don't do anything. Just nod if you understand me, Sara."
Sara nodded, her rapid breath shooting over his gloved fingers. He knew her name? She thought of the tall man at the party. Was it him? Her mind was screaming as he whispered instructions, the unmistakable pressure of his gun pressed to her side sure to leave a bruise in its wake.
Everything she had ever heard or read of self defense and abductions insisted if you let them get you into a car you were screwed. As this fact and many others Sara would have sworn she had forgotten flew through her head she was already moving.
She reached and grabbed his hand, twisting her body at the same time she was clamping her teeth onto his hand; the leather soft and gamy against her teeth as she shoved a knee towards what she hoped was his groin. Her knee made contact and her heart stopped before galloping onward faster then ever. There had been no satisfying grunt, and she knew she had somehow miscalculated, or maybe just underestimated her assailant.
He pulled her tight against him and brought his ski mask covered lips to her ear. But instead of saying anything, she just felt his hot breath against her. And then her body slumped and her eyes closed as the gun smashed against her head, the dark night fading to black.
Sara opened her eyes, a moan trapped behind the duct tape securing her lips. She twisted around on the small cot she was laying on, the springs beneath pressing into her through the thin mattress, as her mind screamed out in terror. Where was she, why was it so dark?
She began to twist frantically, but her thin arms were trapped behind her, aching in their sockets as she maneuvered. She kept fighting her bindings, but somewhere behind the trapped animal she had become she knew it was a lost cause, the duct tape securing her hands too strong; too tight to squirm out of.
She tried to twist her legs, but the tape held them tightly together hindering her movement. She was breathing hard through her nose, the loud inhalations and expelling of air the only noise in this tomb of a room.
Why was it so dark? She fought to calm her thoughts and racing heart. She was covered in a cold sweat and the smell of her own fear permeated the air around her. She closed her eyes and forced deep, even breaths, telling herself that she needed to act not react.
After some time the silence of her ringing ears holding precedence; her breath undetectable even to her own senses, Sara opened her eyes. She looked around the total darkness of the room. As her eyes adjusted she could make out a small dresser with a television set on top of it.
So the room wasn't completely dark. Her eyes moved to the window. A small fleck of light was present. The window was what, blacked out with paint? Had it chipped somehow, allowing her this small beacon of an outside world, where the worst thing that could happen was you would be stuck at a friend's boring party?
If only she hadn't left Kirsty's! Sara felt her eyes welling with tears at the hopelessness she was feeling and then the door opened and he stepped inside.
With a flip of a switch on the wall, light shattered through her aching skull sending a muffled moan from her tethered lips and her heart once again racing in fear.
Sara fought the urge to close her eyes and blinked against the bright light. Her head was pounding with each slamming pulse beat reminding her of the head injury she had sustained hours ago? Could hours have actually passed?
She forced her eyes to focus on the man's face, what she could see of it, he was wearing a hoodie which covered his head. Her mind raced as her vision adjusted from total darkness to the glaring bulb hanging overhead bringing his features into focus. Was this the same man who had grabbed her, the man in the ski mask, or was there more then one of them?
She worked the tape against her lips, the adhesive bitter against her tongue as she pried her lips slightly apart, hoping to free her mouth. Maybe twenty seconds had passed since the door opened but it felt like time had stopped as she silently worked, it's quick hands standing as still as the man standing before her, waiting. Waiting for what, her mind screamed?
And then he walked lazily into the room, each step concise as his long legs drew him closer. Sara felt her heart begin to pound faster, so hard in her temples, making her nauseous as the pain in her head intensified. She was struggling against her confines again, but when he stopped in front of the cot she ceased all movement.
He reached long, slim fingers to her and pressed them against the rapid pulse in her neck, a small smile touching his lips, but falling miles short of his icy blue orbs. He ran his fingers lightly down her neck and she flinched at his further touch making him laugh, a sound deep and deadly as the ocean. And then his hand fell away. He went back to the door, bringing false hope as he pulled it open. But he wasn't ready to leave yet.
He grabbed a chair just outside the room and then closing and locking the door, he carried the chair into the room placing it just in front of her where he straddled it. "No one even misses you…Yet." His voice was deep, his cryptic words chilling her to the bone.
His chin was resting on the backs of his hands where he gripped the chair back, studying her coldly. She slid back on the bed unaware of her own backward movement. She was trapped in his eyes like a deer in head lights.
Something about his eyes frightened her, so blue in contrast to the black cloak of the hooded sweatshirt draped over his features. But that wasn't what really scared her. What scared her most was the cunning sanity she saw in place of the lunacy one would expect to see in such an individual. This man was as sane as she was.
Sara felt a shiver run through her and her eyes grew wide as the realization hit her. He had known her name. This was far from random. He had grabbed her because of who she was. He had grabbed her because she was Sara Tancredi, daughter of Governor Frank Tancredi.
As he leaned forward her eyes grew wider still, and then he was gripping the tape, tearing it from her lips.