Chapter 10
Thirst
Gwen P.O.V.
Adjust? He wants me to adjust? He's out of his fucking mind if he thinks I'm going to adjust to being kidnapped. Actually, his kidnapping me already showed that he's out of his mind.
I took a deep breath and gently let my head fall back against the brick wall behind me. I closed my eyes and continued with my deep breathing. The sharp pain in my head had ebbed away to a slightly more tolerable pain, but I felt nauseous. Whether it was due to the fact that I hadn't eaten or had any water all day, or the fact that Trent was actually some psychotic kidnapper bent on being my true love, I wasn't really sure. I breathed slowly through my mouth, but that only made my dry throat ache, so I switched to my nose, which wasn't helping much with the nausea. I swallowed again to try to ease the irritation in my throat and it helped a little.
I looked around the room again and noticed that there was nothing that could possibly help me escape. It was bare, but clean. It was also a little cold, but I could live with that. I was grateful for the largeness of the room. If it had been small, my claustrophobia might have kicked in and that would've made the situation so much worse. As sick as it sounds, I was grateful for the small favor.
My thoughts quickly changed from myself to Dylan. I hoped he was okay. If he wasn't, I'd fucking kill Trent with his own gun. I wouldn't shoot him, though, that would be too merciful. I'd beat him with his gun. I would take the bullets out and drive them into his skin with my hands. If that was too difficult, then I would take a knife to help me open up the flesh a bit and then drive the bullets into him. I might even make him swallow a bullet or two. It all depended on how many bullets he had. If he had more than the ones that were in his gun, then I could have a lot more fun. If he only had the ones in his gun, then I would have to make those count. The only real problem would be if the gun wasn't actually loaded, because I would just have to beat him to death, which would get the job done, but wouldn't be nearly as satisfying. This may seem completely deranged, but I'm not the one who attacked an older sister's little brother.
The image of Dylan lying crumpled on the ground came to me. I couldn't remember if he was breathing or not. That thought made the nausea come back and hit even harder. I turned to my side and retched, but nothing came out. I straightened myself up again and settled against the wall. The thought of losing Dylan made me feel sick, sad, and angry all at the same time. The only thing that brought my comfort was the fact that Trent knew that I would be crushed if anything ever happened to Dylan, so he probably didn't hurt him too badly.
If he knew what was good for him, he wouldn't have hurt Dylan too badly.
But as of late, it didn't seem like Trent knew anything.
He didn't know anything about me. Not anymore, at least. Maybe he never had.
He didn't know that when he threatened Duncan he was doing nothing but pissing both Duncan and me off. He didn't know that him telling me not to do something would result in me doing it. He obviously hadn't learned that jealousy didn't go far with me. He didn't know that blue roses weren't my favorite anymore. He didn't realize that dragging my baby brother into this was going too far, and, depending on what he did to my brother, potentially life-threatening. He didn't know that I did not, and would never, love him.
He didn't know that I loved someone else.
I sighed. I hope to God that he doesn't realize I'm in love with someone else. Duncan's car popped into my head. Beaten down, broken, scarred. That could have easily been Duncan if he'd heard Trent attacking Sally. Another small favor that had been granted to me.
I briefly wondered about what Duncan was doing. I hoped that someone found Dylan and took him to Duncan. Duncan would take care of him. And my mom. I hoped that he wasn't doing anything stupid. He had already threatened to tear Trent's head off with his bare hands, and now that Trent had me, Duncan would probably be kicking in every door in the state trying to find me. And once he found out that Trent was the stalker, Duncan would go even more ballistic.
My thoughts were going to a dark place where there was a lot of bloodshed and screams, so I stopped them.
I focused on my memories. Happy ones that would keep my thoughts from imagining what would happen between Trent and Duncan if Duncan ever came face-to-face with him.
My memories overtook my brain and soon the blackness did too.
"Gwen… Gwen, wake up."
I lifted my head up to the sound of my name only to be greeted with the sight of Trent's annoyingly happy face. I let out a yawn that immediately brought attention to my throat. The pain had increased dramatically. The pain in my head had dulled, but now there was a new one in my neck from sleeping in the position that I had slept in.
The scent of food hit my nose and I realized how hungry I was. I straightened up and really looked at Trent for the first time and noticed that in one hand he was carrying a plate covered in bacon, eggs, sausages, and a muffin. The muffin reminded me of the times that he would get me an extra muffin each morning. That's probably why he brought it down. In the other hand he had a tall glass of water with ice cubes in it. Nine, from what I could tell... My throat tightened and my mouth went dry at the sight of the water.
I cleared my throat to the best of my ability, but my voice still sounded scratchy when I said, "Take off my cuffs so that I can eat."
He gave me an apologetic smile. "Sorry, love, but you know I can't do that. If I do that then you'll try to escape. If you try to escape, then I'll have to get you back. You're a fighter, Gwen, and so I'll have to fight back, and I don't want to fight you."
"So then don't fight me and just let me go!" My throat hurt from my increase in volume.
He shook his head. "I don't want to fight you, but I can't let you go." He got down to his knees and set the glass of water down. I almost whimpered. He lifted up a strip of bacon and tried to feed it to me, but I turned my head away. "Eat. You need to eat."
"Not as much as I need to drink," I said, staring pointedly at the glass of water. I gulped and imagined the cool water running down my throat.
"Crap! I'm sorry, Gwen!" He lifted the glass up to my mouth but I shook my head. "Drink! You've been here for a little more than twenty-four hours, Gwen! A human can only survive so long without water!"
I shrugged the best way a could with my arms cuffed above my head. "Oh well," I managed to get out.
"Drink it, Gwen," he pleaded. I didn't trust my voice so I turned my gaze to my cuffs and then back to him. "I can't!" he wailed. "Come on! You'll die in a couple of days if you don't drink soon!"
I knew that was true. I looked at the glass and almost gave in. Instead I looked away from the glass and Trent and shrugged.
That was when I felt my face being jerked to face forward and then I felt a hand around my neck. The water hit my mouth and then spilt out onto my face, unable to get down my throat because of his hand's hold on my neck.
"I said drink, dammit!" Trent roared.
He grip on my neck lessened and I was able to gulp down the water in my mouth. He pulled his hand off of me but it still hovered over my neck. He poured more water down my mouth, but most of it had spilt down my face and onto my neck and shirt when he was strangling me. Once the last of the water was gone he pulled away completely.
I was still gasping for air and trying to get my heart rate back to normal when he started sputtering out an apology.
"I'm sorry, I just-you were-I had to!" His eyes were sad and pleading. Nothing like what they looked like just a few moments ago when his fingers were wrapped around my neck. "Next time just drink," he pleaded.
He stroked my cheek and my head jerked away from him. He quickly picked up the plate of food and the glass and made his way up the stairs.
Unknown P.O.V.
He went back upstairs and the image of his hand wrapped around her pretty little throat kept playing through his head.
And mine.
He looked miserable. He looked confused. He couldn't believe that he had just laid hands on his precious Gwendolyn. He tried to justify it to himself. If she didn't drink, then she would die. He couldn't let her die. He loved her. She was his everything, and he wouldn't be able to live without her. He would go down and feed her later, her thirst would have killed her faster than hunger. He had sated her thirst.
Little did he know him sating her thirst had both sated and increased mine. His fingers wrapped around her neck and the rage in his voice as he nearly strangled her to death pleased me very much. It also made me eager to see what he would do next.
...
A/N: Wow! Okay guys, I know it's been a long time, and I have explanations, but I doubt you wanna hear them.
I just want you guys to know that, now that school's out, I can be more consistent with updates. During the weekdays I'm going to be staying at my cousin's to babysit her kids, so I won't be able to work on my story then. She has no computer. :(
However, I will update every other weekend, so that it matches up with my payday. I didn't get paid this weekend, but I needed to get this up for you guys. I will update next weekend and then every other weekend after that.
I'm sorry for the wait, but now I have more time to focus on my writing.
Thank you for reading! I love you guys!
P.S. Was Gwen's wanting to jam bullets into Trent's body and down his throat a little too creepy?
