Author note: I am fucking sick from so much pineapple mango, but I'm okay! Whoohoo!
Spot and I seldomly talked for the rest of the week. If we did talk, it was just a "hello," or "I'm going out." I didn't know what his problem was, but I felt that it was my fault.
Everyday I woke up, even if it was early, Spot was gone. He left at about six in the morning, but work didn't start until nine.
Our relationship was fading, falling apart, drowning… I was drowning in a river of tears. All I ever did was cry, that's all I knew what to do to cure the pain.
I awoke early on Monday morning, and listened as Spot got out of bed and bustled around the room. Tears stained my pillow as I watched his figure walk into the washroom.
I closed my eyes shut when he walked back out, and he didn't move. He was staring at me, or so I thought. He finally moved and left the room. He slammed the apartment door shut, which caused me to jump slightly.
I rose from the bed and wiped away my tears. I weakly washed up, and changed my clothes. I wobbled out to the kitchen and plopped down in a chair. I sipped on a cup of coffee, while thinking things over in my head.
I loved Spot, but…Damn it! There was always a 'but' in a relationship. I knew we were going into this too fast. Spot was everything to me right now, he was all I had. My life revolved around him, but…but things were changing.
We were confused about our feelings. I knew Spot was questioning his love for me, and right now, I was doing the same. Did I actually love him? Love is an intense word, and you have to mean it before you say it. Sometimes it may slip on accident, but you never truly mean it.
I didn't know if I meant it or not, I was still young. I glared down at my stomach. It wasn't a mistake, but then again I didn't ask for it.
I rose from the chair and left the apartment building, not quite sure where to go. Walking down the sidewalks, I felt insecure. A scarce wind brushed by as I stopped at an alleyway.
"Shh," someone said from behind me. The person wrapped their arms over me to keep me warm. I stared straight ahead, chills running up and down my spine. I slowly turned around and before I could scream the man clasped his hand over my mouth and began to drag me away.
I fought back, which didn't do any good because I was carrying a baby.
I was kidnapped, for the third time.
Audience P.O.V
Spot dipped the paintbrush into the paint, and caressed it against the wood. He was dazed, and a bit lazy with the painting.
"Hey, wanna come with me and a couple of friends tonight?" Jacob asked him, nudging his arm. Spot sent him a short glance.
"Where ya goin?" he asked.
"Danny's bar," Jacob answered. Spot shrugged,
"I guess." Jacob grinned as he hammered a nail into the wood.
And, reluctantly, Spot followed his friend to the bar that afternoon. Some of Jacob's friends were waiting for them on the inside, beer in their hands.
Spot sat at the bar beside Jacob, trying to keep calm and cool. The bartender approached them.
"What'll it be, boys?" he asked. Jacob ordered beer, and the bartender served it to him.
"And some for my friends here," Jacob said, patting Spot's back. A glass of beer appeared instantly in front of Spot, teasing him. To drink it or not to drink it…that is the question!
Spot picked up the glass, staring down at the strong liquid. He had already broken the million promises to Sage, so why not?
In a few gulps the beer in his glass was gone, but that didn't please him. He wanted more – no, he needed more.
Beer, whiskey, whatever it was, Spot wanted it. Everything was becoming fuzzy in his vision as he downed another glass, and then another, and one more. He had lost count at six.
Spot laughed uncontrollably at Jacob, who seemed to be having a good time with the prostitute at his side. Spot threw his head back and gulped down another beer.
Spot's eyes then landed on the wedding ring on his finger, and a feeling of guilt washed over him. Was he doing wrong? He slowly opened up his pocket watch and read that it was eleven p.m. Sage was probably worried.
Spot rose from the stool to leave, but a hand stopped him.
"Where ya goin, buddy?" Jacob asked. Spot swayed a bit.
"Home," he managed to say.
"Nonsense!" Jacob said. "Another glass here for Spot!" the bartender filled Spot's glass up. Spot sighed to himself as he sat back down in the stool and drank the beer.
His head was spinning, and his eyes were fuzzy. Spot grinned goofily as a girl approached him.
"Hey there cutie," she said, wrapping her arms around his neck. Spot licked at his lips, and slipped his wedding ring into his pocket.
"Hey," he said back, pulling the girl closer. The girl giggled.
"I'm Maria," she said.
"Spot," Spot told her. Maria laughed slightly as she pulled herself onto Spot; her legs wrapped around him, and forcefully pulled his face closer to hers. Spot hesitantly put his lips to hers hungrily.
Everything faded in and out as Spot kissed the girl forcefully, and never pulled away. His wedding ring was burning his thigh in his pocket, but he managed to block it out of his mind.
Maria's rose perform and deep red lipstick stuck to Spot like a magnet. Everything about this girl was perfect – her lips, her eyes, her body, Spot couldn't resist it. He touched her all over until there wasn't a place on her body that he hadn't touched.
At one in the morning Spot left the bar and headed for home. He didn't sleep with the girl, so that didn't count as cheating, right?
The scent of roses was glued to his body as he wobbled into his apartment room. He threw his hat to the side and walked into his bedroom, but Sage wasn't in there. Spot furrowed his eyebrows in confusion and stumbled out into the living room.
Sage was gone – she wasn't here. Spot confusedly sat down on the couch and stared at the door. Sage would come home, right?
Spot became worried as time passed quickly, and still Sage did not return. Had she caught him at the bar with Maria?
At the thought of Maria, Spot instantly cursed himself for what he had done. He was married for the love of God! He had hidden his wedding ring like he was ashamed, and kissed Maria like he was lonely. He wasn't lonely…was he?
Spot suddenly changed his mind as he laid flat on his back, staring up at the ceiling.
"I regret nothin," he said out loud. "She's da one who ain't comin home, so why should I feel all guilty?" Spot licked at his lips as he turned over to his side and continued to stare at the door. Where was she?
Hours past by, and it was soon five in the morning, and still no sign of Sage. Spot rose from the couch, his eyes threatening to close, and just in the snap of a finger, he past out cold on the floor.
Normal P.O.V
Fear would only describe how I was feeling at the time. I sat in a chair, my hands tide tightly behind me, and my mouth shut up by a cloth.
My head hung low from tiredness and stress as I sat in the middle of a dark room. The place looked awfully familiar, but the blurriness of my eyes wouldn't allow me to observe my surroundings.
The longer I stayed awake, the weaker I got. I needed one person and one person only, and he wasn't even paying attention to me. We were so out of trust it wasn't even funny. I was reaching out to him, but he never even knew it. He'll never know where I am.
Footsteps made my head jolt up, and I listened as they walked towards me, and stopped right in front of my body. A rough hand grasped my chin and made me look up into two deadly eyes.
I closed my eyes to shut out the world, but once I did a hand forcefully slapped my face. A few tears escaped my eyes as I made a muffled sound beneath the cloth.
"I believe we have met before," the voice said, startling me. "My name is Daniel Hutch." I looked up into the darkness, and blinked my eyes to adjust my blurry vision.
The man bent down to my level and stared straight at me. I managed to stay awake as he began to talk.
"My men have failed to kill you, I see, so I had them bring you here. Would you mind telling me where your loving husband is, Sage?" I sent the man a glare that told him "never," which earned me another slap.
"We can do this the hard way, or the easy way. Your choice." That voice sounded so familiar that it started to scare me. Finally, I was able to make out the man's face, and I didn't like what I saw.
Muffled screaming came from my mouth as I struggled to free myself from the tight ropes. Everything finally made sense and became clearer. Daniel Hutch was a relative of mine, who very rarely used his real name. To keep his crimes secret, he changed his name to Bryan Matthews, my godforsaken uncle!
Audience P.O.V
Spot woke up to find himself sprawled out on the living room floor, his head aching terribly. He had waited up for Sage last night, but she never showed…or did she?
Spot jumped to his feet and opened the bedroom door. The bed was empty, and hadn't been touched since Spot last saw it. Sage never returned.
Spot took in a deep breath and dared himself to hold it, but he soon released. Something was wrong, and he had to fix it.
He knew his and Sage's relationship went downhill, but now that she was gone, he truly felt alone. Had she left Spot?
Spot licked at his lips as he pulled his cap on.He walked over to the door, and noticed something new. A letter. He quickly ripped it off and began to read it.
We have something valuable to you, and if you want her back, then you have to come get her.
This is for attacking one of my lackeys.
Daniel Hutch
Spot stared wide eyed at the letter in his hands, clutching it tighter and tighter. All of the negative thoughts about Sage quickly vanished, and he no longer questioned his love for her.
You never know how much you love something until it's taken away.
There was one fact that he knew he'd never question again: he loved Sage.
Next Chapter: Spot has to save Sage, even if it involves him taking a bullet to the head for her.
Author note: Suspense, suspense! When will it end? NEVER! Hahahahahahahaha! LONG LIVE SAGE CAUSE SPOT IS WILLING TO DIE FOR HER!