Kirsten groaned and slowly opened her eyes. For a moment all she saw was the color white. Heaven? She became aware of a crushing weight on top of her, pressing on her bones, suffocating her. Or hell? The room fizzled into view, and Kirsten turned her head groggily away from the blank white wall. Out of the corner of her eyes she saw what the weight was. George, who was passed out. She groaned again and shifted, trying to push him off. He was too heavy, and the movement only resulted in a sharp pain between her thighs. Definitely hell.
She flopped back down, exhaling loudly as his full weight fell on her again. She turned her head away from the wall to face the other direction. There was the couch, and by straining to look around it she could see her kidnapper still lying unconscious on the floor. Kirsten would just have to wait until he awoke.
The TV was still blaring.
About twenty minutes later she saw the man awake. He ambled up and shuffled off to the bathroom. Kirsten heard him retching. He reappeared, looking confusedly around. When he spotted Kirsten and George, he stopped and stared. She looked imploringly back at him. She took a deep breath and managed to tell him to get George off of her. He hesitated then nodded, walking over and grabbing George's shoulders and trying to roll him off. Grunting, he finally succeeded. Kirsten started to stand, but was stopped by the pain again. The man pulled her up and deposited her carelessly on the couch, where she curled up and buried her face in the cushion.
How dare George do that? She heard the man clanking aimlessly around the kitchen. She looked up and thought, And shouldn't he be mad about this? Unless...he had something to do with it.
That's when it clicked in her head. Fury filled her, and she didn't think as she launched herself off the couch. She hurtled toward the man, who looked up, startled, just in time to see her fist flying at him. He ducked, but she jumped on his back and started yanking at his hair and clawing at him. "You! It's your fault!" She screamed curses at him, hitting blindly at him in her rage. He was trying to throw her off but she clung on, kicking and scratching. Lord, she hated him and she was gonna make him pay!
Finally he managed to throw her off, knocking her to the ground. She ignored the throbbing in her head and scrambled back up, ready to attack again. This time he caught her by the arms. "What the fuck is wrong with you?! Stop it!" His face was bleeding rather profusely and his shirt was torn in several places, revealing deep scratches from her nails.
As he looked at her, she felt the very strong, sudden urge to cry. But she didn't, because her father had taught her that crying made you look weak, and that was the last thing Kirsten needed right now.
In her peripheral vision she saw an empty beer bottle on the counter, and an idea popped into Kirsten's head. She stopped fighting, and after a few seconds he reluctantly let her go. He cautiously took a step back, still looking at her, then continued backing away until he was a sizeable distance away from her. He rubbed his temples and muttered something about a hangover. The whole time she stood completely still-- she needed him to let his guard down.
When he at last turned around to sit on the couch, she snatched up the beer bottle and sidled up behind him. He glanced back at her, and she casually hid the beer bottle behind her back. He eyed her suspiciously for a moment, then evidently decided that she was no longer a threat and he turned back to the TV.
Kirsten had never been the kind of person who could easily harm someone else. She had always felt terrible afterward. But this...this needed to be done. While he focused on the TV, she raised the bottle high and brought it crashing down on his head.
x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x
He was pissed. He'd just woken up with a throbbing hangover and the need to vomit and one of the first things he saw was George passed out on top of the woman. That had put him in a bad mood, but then things had only gotten worse. Where the hell did she get off attacking him? He hadn't done anything!
It caught him by total surprise. He'd been starting to feel better, and then she'd gone and hit him over the head with a beer bottle! If he'd known having that hiding a kidnapped woman was such hard work he wouldn't have done it.
The blow to the head didn't knock him out- she wasn't that strong- but it did hurt like hell, especially because he already had a raging headache. The force and surprise of it actually knocked him off the couch. The pain was blinding, and all he could do was scream curses.
He vaguely registered the sound of the door opening. He couldn't let her get away now! He staggered up, but the room was spinning too fast for him to be able to make it to the door fast enough.
The room slowed down, and he wove his way to the door and looked out. She was nowhere in sight.
She can't have gotten far, he thought as he stepped out. He walked around the apartment complex, his pace growing steadily more urgent. He glanced up and down the streets, looked behind the building, but she had disappeared.
Where the hell could she have gone?
x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x
Summer stood behind the door, eavesdropping on Seth and Mr. Cohen, who were arguing.
Today had started out bad enough. No news except that there was a car that was set afire in an old lot in another part of town, but there really wasn't any way for the police to figure out what make the car had been- all that was left was a charred, twisted metal frame.
Then the letter from RISD had arrived. The school year was about to take off, and Seth was expected to be there in a couple of weeks. Seth, however, had refused to leave Newport until his mother was found. was sure his wife would be found soon- they weren't paying for the best police service for nothing, were they?- and was torn between the ideas of Seth throwing away his college career or staying home.
The argument made Summer painfully aware that she would have to be leaving soon as well, for G.E.O.R.G.E. But now she wasn't sure if she wanted to leave. And Ryan...well, he was just lingering around. She wondered why he hadn't left for Berkely at the same time she'd left for Brown. What had he been waiting for?
Footsteps were fast approaching the door, and Summer hurried to the kitchen, where she leaned against the counter and casually asked Seth (who appeared stomping and furious), "What was that all about?"
"Summer, you're with me, right? I can't go to RISD now!...And are you gonna leave for G.E.O.R.G.E?"
"I don't know what I'm going to do."
"You- you can't go!" sputtered Seth, his eyes wide. "You're not, right? Right? Summer?"
"I don't know, Cohen!" she hit his arm.
"Ow..."
"Sorry."
"Me too. You can go if you really need to."
"I don't think I'm going to. Yet. I think I want to stay here with you for awhile longer."
By now, they were hugging; Summer's back was to the counter, and Seth dipped his head down to kiss her. Their kiss was interrupted by Ryan, who was grinning wildly.
"Wait. Is Atwood actually smiling?" Summer feigned shock.
"I think so. We should take a picture, 'cause we're never gonna see that smile again." quipped Seth.
"The police just called Sandy's cell. Good news!"