"You just have to keep thinking positive. Wherever Peyton is, she's okay." Lucas sat beside his longtime friend Brooke Davis at the bar in Tric as she downed shot after shot.

"Luke, it's nice of you to lie to make me feel better, but it's been a week. It's been a fucking week. Seven fucking days." Brooke picked up the small glass and raised it to her lips, only to be stopped by Lucas.
"I think it's time I cut you off."
"What if she did something bad? What if she tried again and succeeded because I didn't chase after her?" At this point, the whole group had known about Peyton's incident since Brooke was always drunk and blabbing about it.
"Look, she probably just went to see her dad or something. Just think about it, she's probably with him on the beach in the sun, forgetting about her problems here. And when she's ready she'll come back."
"But what if she doesn't come back?"
"Then she doesn't come back."


Is it because they didn't care, or because they cared too much? Peyton had been missing for a week, at least she had counted seven days. She sat in the wooden chair, hands behind her back tied together, and each ankle tied to the front legs of it. The bandanna that was tied around her head and in her mouth was far too tight. It replayed in her head every minute-the minute she was kidnapped.

The sound made Peyton turn, and there he was. The man she thought she had gotten rid of four and a half years ago. Ian Banks. What the hell did he want?
"Hey, Peyton," he smiled.
She stood and began walking away. She heard his footsteps behind her, slowly increasing with every step.
"It's not very nice to run away from me!"
Before she knew it, he had tackled her to the ground and was now straddling her with her hands held above her head.
"I know everything. I know you didn't come back to Tree Hill for Lucas-I know you came back for me."

Now here she was. Tied up in this creep's basement with nobody looking for her.


Three days went by before Brooke decided drinking wasn't going to solve anything, and that something was wrong. She left her house early that morning and drove around town. She sped passed her store, passed Tric. She couldn't even look at the building. On her way home, she drove on the bridge she and Peyton used to sit under when they were younger- The bridge! Brooke pulled over near the wooded area off of the bridge and something caught her eye as it shined in the sun.

It was The Comet. Parked far out of sight in the woods.

She walked quickly through the trees and to the car, and found nothing but CDs and cases scattered around the seats. The worst began to sink in. Why else would Peyton abandon her car by the bridge? Brooke made her way down and under the bridge, cautious not to slip in the mud. She saw Peyton's shoes on the ledge where they sat and sat down beside them. The mud that coated the bottom of them was dry. The brunette stared down into the water as it glistened in the sunlight. Peyton wouldn't jump...would she?


The police showed up a little while later, and Brooke sat and stared as they searched the premises. An officer stayed to question her about what had happened.
"So, you said that Peyton attempted to commit suicide a week and a half ago, but why didn't you get help when it happened?"
"Because all of this happened the night after she did it. Even if I did try to get her help, she would have refused it. She's stubborn."
The officer scribbled something onto a notepad, "we'll continue searching. I'll get back to you, Ms. Davis."
"Just...can you please try your best?"
The man simply nodded before walking away and getting into his car.


Beads of sweat fell down Peyton's face as her eyes fell shut. They snapped open at the noise of a door closing, which caused her to look around.
"Good morning, beautiful," Ian smiled. He approached Peyton with a tray, and sat down in a chair beside her with it in his lap. "I made you some breakfast, but since you can't use your hands, I get to feed it to you." First, he removed the bandanna. He scooped some of the creamy substance from the bowl with a spoon and lifted it to Peyton's mouth. "Peyton, open up."

She shut her mouth tightly and refused to part her lips.

Ian took his free hand and grabbed her face tightly, "open your mouth right now." When she still refused he threw the spoon across the room. "You don't want to eat? Then don't eat!" He picked up the tray, and like the spoon he threw it.
"What the hell do you want with me?" Peyton asked before he tied the bandana back around her head. He tightened the knot and smiled.
"I just want you." He began walking toward the door of the room, "did you know you're on the news? They've been looking for ya. But I'm going to end all of that-they're going to think you're dead. And you're going to help me."


DUN DUN DUN! so how about that? I really didn't intend for it to be Ian behind Peyton, it just kind of happened. The story may still be a little slow, but I can assure you things will get better soon...well I think they will who knows. Thanks for reading! Leave reviews, they really help!