Hey, guys. :) Here's the next chapter. I hope you guys enjoy it.

The edge of Kendall's vision was getting fuzzy, black dots dancing around, making it feel as though his head was spinning. For a moment, he just laid there, trying to catch his breath, but every time he tried to take in a gulp of air it felt like his insides were simultaneously catching on fire. He wanted to cry out, wanted to curl in on himself until he somehow vanished from existence, but he knew that he couldn't. And it was at that moment that he couldn't help but wonder if he would get out of this alive – if he would ever get to see the light of day again, or if he would die here, alone and forgotten.

Last time, he had been lucky. Perhaps "lucky" wasn't the right word, but he had survived, somehow, even though he was sure that he wouldn't. Now, it felt as if it had all been for nothing, because he was now wrapped around his father's finger once again. He was free to do whatever he wanted with him, and his father probably knew it, too. He knew Kendall's weaknesses; knew that as long as his friends and family were involved, Kendall would do just about anything to protect them and keep them out of harm's way, even if it meant getting himself hurt in the process.

The pain did not subside right away – it lingered and spread, a searing pain that seemed to run all along his body, leaving him with tears hidden behind closed eyelids. It felt like hours later when he finally managed to sit up despite the ache, his vision no longer feeling as hazy as before. His head still felt foggy, though. Heavier, somehow. It was hard to keep his head up. Any movement, big or small, felt like it took at least twice the effort it normally would have.

The room he was now in was bigger than the one he had previously been in, as well as emptier. Though only a very dim lightbulb hung from the ceiling, he could make out a couple of chairs off to his far left, near the wall, and what looked to be like a pile of rags in front of them. There was a window to his right, nearing the ceiling. It was much too high for him to reach, not that he could have, anyway, with his hands bound together.

Feeling defeated and hopeless, he laid back down and closed his eyes, hoping that by some miracle, he would be able to fall asleep. He knew that would not be the case, though. He was exhausted, that was for sure, but his mind swam with thoughts of Katie, of his mom, of his friends, and other people he held dear to his heart.

I'm never gonna see them again, he thought, a tightness forming in his throat. I'm never gonna get to say goodbye.

All of a sudden, he heard it – a faint sound, sort of like that of something moving nearby.

He straightened up with a start, looking around the room frantically, and that's when he saw it. The rags – or what he had assumed were rags at first – were moving.

He felt his heart jump to his throat, his hands growing sweaty as he stared in their direction.

"W-who's there?" he asked, not knowing whether to feel alarmed or relieved.

There was a small groan, followed by more movement, and it wasn't until then that Kendall realized that there definitely was a person in the room with him. He stared, open-mouthed, as he managed to catch a glimpse of the person's face, and felt relief wash over him.

"Katie?"

Katie's eyelids flew open then, her big brown eyes meeting Kendall's.

"Katie! Oh my God, it is you."

"Kendall?" Katie stared at him, with a look that Kendall was sure mirrored his own. Her eyes were wide open, shock written across every feature on her face. "K-Kendall." Her eyes filled with tears as she struggled to sit up, with both her legs and wrists tied together. "What-what are you doing here?"

Kendall's lips tugged downwards into a frown, his shoulders slumping. "Managed to get myself kidnapped, I guess," he said, his voice quiet. "Is Mom okay?" he asked, taking notice of the body lying to Katie's left.

As if suddenly having remembered her mother, Katie turned in her direction and attempted to shake her awake, tears spilling down her cheeks.

"I don't know," she said quietly. "Mom." She nudged her mother with her elbow, but the body beside hers remained limp. "Mom." This time, her voice sounded thicker, more urgent. "She's not waking up," she said, turning to look at Kendall. "Why isn't she waking up?"

"Did he do something to the two of you?" Kendall asked, referring to his father.

"He gave us something to knock us out, I think. Everything's kind of fuzzy."

Probably chloroform, Kendall thought, but didn't voice this out loud to Katie. Instead, he struggled to push himself to his feet and made his way to where Katie was sitting, with her mom to her side. "She's breathing, right?"

"I-I think so," Katie said quietly as she stared down at her hands.

It was with a sinking feeling that Kendall took notice of the dried blood on her wrists. "Katie," he swallowed, frustrated by the fact that he couldn't pull her into his arms, "there's blood on your–"

"I know," Katie said with a shrug. "I was trying to pull myself free, but I couldn't. It's really tight."

"Let me try."

Katie extended her arms towards Kendall, who reached out with his own and tried pull at the ropes around her wrists, without much success. As Kendall gave the ropes a particularly hard pull, Katie cried out, causing Kendall to wince in surprise.

"Sorry." Kendall bit down on his bottom lip, letting his hands fall in front of him. "Are you okay?"

Katie nodded her head, tears stinging at her eyes. "Yeah, it just hurt."

"I'm sorry." Kendall's voice cracked, his hands shaking where they now rested on his lap. "You should've never been a part of this."

"You shouldn't have either," Katie said softly.

Kendall shook his head at this, his bangs falling in front of his eyes. "He wants to hurt me," he choked out. "That's why he's using you and Mom. He knew that would hurt me."

"Yeah, but–"

What Katie was going to say was abruptly cut off as their mother started to stir beside them.

"Mom!"

It took a moment for their mother to regain full consciousness, but as soon as she did, she looked around frantically, first catching sight of Katie, and then of Kendall.

"Kendall, oh my God."

"Mom." His voice clogged with tears as he stared at his mother, who was trying to sit upright. Bruises and cuts littered her face, and the sight of them did nothing but cause Kendall's stomach to churn uncomfortably. "Mom, I'm sorry." He said the words so quietly that he was sure his mother hadn't even heard him. It was like every negative emotion he had felt within the past few days had suddenly resurfaced, and he could do nothing but let it happen.

"Baby, no." He watched as his mother's eyes filled with tears and only felt worse. It felt like someone had stuck a knife through his heart and was now twisting it in one direction, and then the other. "Kendall, listen to me," she said, looking him straight in the eye. "None of this is your fault. None of it, okay?"

He wanted to say that that wasn't true, that none of what had happened would have happened if it wasn't for him. But instead, he responded with a quiet "okay" and let his gaze fall to his lap.

"How did he get to you?" he asked after a moment, sensing the thick atmosphere in the room. Beside him, he felt his mother shift, as if trying to get into a comfortable position, and let out a sigh.

"The person that was supposed to take us to the airport from the Palm Woods… he works for him."

"Trey?"

His mother nodded. "Yeah, him." She paused then, her eyes landing briefly on Katie, who was now leaning against Kendall, her head pressed against his shoulder. Her eyes were only slightly open, her cheeks tinted a bright pink. For so long, Katie had been so independent, always acting so mature for someone her age. But at that moment, she looked so small and vulnerable – defeated, even. The realization of that made her heart hurt.

"So, he brought you here instead?"

His mother nodded. "Everything seemed fine at first, but when I realized we were going in a different direction, I brought it up. He-he threatened to kill us if we didn't do as he said."

Kendall felt his blood run cold, his body tensing up at his mother's words. "Do you think he meant it?"

"He had a gun with him," Mrs. Knight said and looked down. "I didn't want to find out."

"Thanks for the ride."

Pushing his hair back with his hand, Antonio stepped out of the police car and shut the door behind him. Seeing as he had no car, one of the officers from the Los Angeles police department had offered to give him a ride back to the Palm Woods, which is where he now stood.

He took his cellphone out from his jacket's pocket and turned the screen on, only to see he had no new messages from Carlos or any of the boys. He had gotten one from Carlos roughly twenty minutes ago, though, and in it, Carlos had told him that he might have something that would help with the investigation.

He couldn't believe that this was happening in the first place. He had thought that Kenneth would be locked in prison for many years to come. He never imagined that he would be released so early – not after beating up his own child and leaving him in the street, bloody and bruised, in the hopes that he would die.

He could still recall the way Kendall has reacted after the incident; the emptiness in his eyes, the fear embedded into him. Fear from trauma he could not erase from his mind.

"Hey, buddy."

Antonio forced a smile onto his face as he walked into Kendall's hospital room, his feet feeling heavy as he made his way to where Kendall was lying on the hospital bed. He felt a knot form in his throat as he moved the chair near Kendall's bedside and took a seat. The feeling only intensified when Kendall flinched at the action, his eyes becoming teary. His heart felt heavy. For years, he and Kendall had been close. He had always been there to support him when his own father couldn't, or refused to, and suddenly it felt as if there was a rift between them.

"It's okay," he said softly and pulled away from him as much as possible. "I'm not going to hurt you."

"I'm sorry." Kendall's eyes shifted to the white blanket covering his body, his fingers tightening around the material. "I didn't mean to. I just–"

"You don't have to apologize," Antonio said, trying to keep his voice calm and steady. "How are you feeling?"

Kendall opened his mouth to respond but closed it a second after, his vision getting blurry. "I-I don't know. I want to go home, but at the same time… I don't. What if he comes back? What if he hurts Mom and Katie? He can't hurt them. He can't. Please… please don't let him hurt them."

"He won't," Antonio reassured. "He's nowhere near them, and he never will be again. I promise you that."

At his words, Kendall seemed to relax a bit, but there was still fear behind those green eyes of his, and deep down, Antonio knew it wasn't something that wouldn't go away as easily as he hoped.

"Kendall," he started as he looked into Kendall's eyes, his chest feeling tight, "I know you probably don't want to talk about it, but there are some questions I need to ask you."

"What-what kind of questions?" Kendall stammered, eyeing Antonio with a guarded look.

Antonio bit on the inside of his cheek as he leaned forward, his hands resting on the bed but not touching Kendall. "Questions about what happened," he said slowly, watching as Kendall's body tensed up. "You don't have to describe it in full detail. I can just ask you some questions, and you can answer with a 'yes' or a 'no,' or a short answer, if one's needed. Is that okay?"

For a moment, Kendall remained unmoving, but then slowly nodded his head in response. "O-okay."

"Thank you," Antonio said, and then proceeded to take his notepad and pen out before beginning to ask the questions.

Antonio let out a heavy sigh as he got out of the elevator and started to make his way down to Apartment 2J. That had been almost five years ago, but the memory still felt fresh in his mind. Kendall had changed drastically after what his father did to him. He had retreated into himself, become more cautious of everyone around him. It was a painful realization, and one he tried not to think about. As a father himself, he could not fathom why someone would do such a thing to their own child. It was unforgiveable and inexcusable.

"Papi!" Carlos was the one to open the door when he finally made it to the apartment, his hair messy and sticking out in all different directions on his head. Antonio didn't even manage to get a word out before his son took ahold of his wrist and dragged him inside.

"What's going on, mijo? You said you had something to show me?"

"We think we might," Logan said as he came out of his room, his cellphone clutched in his hand. "I… I got a text."

"A text?" Antonio asked as he reached for the cellphone Logan was holding out to him.

"It's a video, from an unknown number," the boy said quietly, averting his eyes to the floor. "We didn't watch it, don't worry."

Antonio felt his stomach twist up in knots, dread washing over him. "Is that it?" he asked, noting the way Logan refused to look him in the eye.

"N-no," he said, his voice hardly a whisper. "There's also a photo."

"He sent a photo?" Carlos asked, eyeing Logan with a questioning look. "When? Why didn't you say anything?"

"It was after I took the phone to my room," he said, purposely avoiding looking at Carlos. "Shortly after. I-I didn't want you to see it."

"Why?" It was James who had asked the question, his voice wavering, as if he was afraid to hear the answer.

Logan was quiet for a moment – Antonio could practically see the wheels turning in his head. When he finally spoke, he looked ashen and fidgety.

"He has Katie and Mrs. Knight, too," he choked out before his eyes filled up with tears. Carlos and James stood frozen for a moment but were soon by Logan's side, their arms wrapped tightly around him.

Antonio felt unsteady on his feet as he passed by them, his hand landing briefly on Logan's shoulder to give it a squeeze. "We'll figure this out," he promised him, before making his way to the bathroom, stopping only when Carlos asked him where he was going.

"I'm just going to see what he sent," he said and closed the door behind him, not wanting the boys to hear whatever it was that was on the video.

Once inside, he sat on the edge of the bathtub, not trusting his own feet to hold him up. He looked at the phone, which he held in a shaking hand, and clicked on the message before he could think twice about it.

As soon as he did, he felt the air leave his lungs.

There was a picture – a picture of Jennifer and Katie, both restrained with ropes, lying on a dirty-looking floor. They appeared to be unconscious, as their eyes were closed.

Taking in a gulp of air, he let his index finger hover over the video. He made sure the volume wasn't very loud and clicked play. He could practically feel his heart hammering in his chest as Kendall came into view of the camera, his arms and legs tied to the chair in which he sat. At first, his gaze was cast towards the ground, but about five seconds into the video, he looked up, causing Antonio's breath to catch in his throat.

The video was short, only about a minute and a half long, but by the time he was done watching it, all Antonio could see was red. A million dollars – that was what Kenneth was asking for in exchange for the freedom of Kendall, Katie and Jennifer. And to make things worse, the money had to be given to him by Sunday, which hardly gave them any time to gather it all, seeing as it was already Friday afternoon.

Stuffing the phone into his pocket, he stood up on wobbly legs and walked out of the bathroom and to the living room, where the boys sat, huddled together on the couch.

"Papi?" Carlos was the first to stand up, the expression on his face looking fearful as he moved to stand in front of his father. "What happened?"

Antonio pulled at the hair on the nape of his neck, swallowing to relieve the dryness in his throat. "He wants a million dollars," he said in a monotone voice. "A million dollars in exchange for Katie, Kendall and Jennifer."

"What if he's lying?" James asked, rising to his feet in an instant. "He lies! He lies about everything. What if we give him the money and he doesn't actually let them go?"

"That's a good point," Logan said from where he sat on the couch. "We can't trust him."

"I don't."

"And where are we even supposed to get a million dollars?"

"Maybe we could ask Gustavo."

"Or get it from our savings."

"We don't have a million dollars, Carlos."

"Yeah, but–"

"Guys," Antonio cut Carlos off, and only continued to speak when all eyes were on him again, "we're not going to give him a million dollars."

"Then what are we going to do?" James asked. He looked flustered, his cheeks now tinted a rosy pink. "We have to do something."

"And we will," Antonio promised him, "just not that."

I wanted to add some of Antonio's thoughts throughout this chapter; I hope I did an okay job. I'm not really used to writing his character, so I apologize if it's not very well-written. I tried my best.

I'd love to hear your thoughts on this chapter, or your speculations on what you think will happen next. :) Thank you for reading!

~ BigTimeRush-BTR :)