(Jay's POV)
When I opened my eyes, the first thing I felt wasn't fear.
It was pain.
A dull, aching pull in my wrists and legs that made me wince before I could even fully understand where I was. The ground beneath me was cold and rough, and for a second, everything felt disoriented—like my mind hadn't caught up with my body yet.
I blinked slowly, trying to focus.
The room wasn't dark.
It wasn't bright either.
Just… enough light to see.
That made it worse.
Because I could actually see where I was.
My breath caught slightly as I tried to move, only to feel the tight pull again. I looked down quickly.
My hands.
Tied.
My legs—
tied too.
A sharp wave of panic rose in my chest, but I forced myself to breathe, even if it came out uneven. Think. Don't panic. Just think.
I lifted my head slowly, looking around.
The room was unfamiliar—bare, slightly messy, and the smell…
God.
It was strange.
Not exactly rotten, not clean either.
Just something off.
Something that didn't belong.
My nose scrunched slightly as I tried to ignore it, my eyes moving quickly across the space until they stopped.
On them.
A few men.
Not far from me.
They hadn't noticed.
Or maybe they didn't care.
They were talking among themselves, one of them laughing at something while another leaned back like this was just another normal day for them.
Like I wasn't even there.
My heartbeat started to rise again.
Louder.
Faster.
This wasn't random.
This wasn't a mistake.
They brought me here.
For a second, I just watched them, trying to understand, trying to process, trying not to let the panic take over completely.
But it did.
A little.
Enough.
"Hey!" My voice came out sharper than I expected, echoing slightly in the room. "Why am I here?"
The talking stopped.
All at once.
And slowly—
they turned.
They turned toward me all at once, their conversation cutting off like it had never happened. For a second, no one spoke. They just looked at me—like they were measuring something.
I straightened slightly, even with my hands tied, forcing myself not to shrink under their gaze.
"What?" I said, my voice sharper now despite the fear sitting in my chest. "Cat got your tongues?"
One of them let out a short laugh. "She's got attitude."
"Untie me," I snapped. "Or are you all just standing there for decoration?"
That did it.
The mood shifted instantly.
One of the men pushed himself off the wall and started walking toward me, slow and steady. I held his gaze, refusing to look away, even when something in me told me I probably should.
He stopped right in front of me.
For a second, nothing happened.
Then his hand shot forward, gripping my jaw tightly, forcing my face upward so I had no choice but to look straight at him. His fingers pressed hard enough to hurt, his grip controlling, deliberate.
"Watch your mouth," he said, his voice low.
I swallowed against the pressure, but I didn't look away.
"Or what?" I shot back, my voice strained but still there. "You'll scare me?"
That was enough.
His expression hardened, and before I could even react—
his hand moved.
The impact came fast and sharp, snapping my head to the side. For a second, everything went blank. My thoughts stalled, my ears ringing slightly as the world blurred around me.
I didn't even process what happened right away.
Just the sting.
The sudden silence.
I didn't know how long I was out.
When I opened my eyes again, everything felt heavier—my head, my body, even my breathing. For a second, I just stayed there, trying to steady myself, trying to focus past the dull ache running through me.
Then I heard it.
A sound.
The door.
It creaked open slowly, and light from outside slipped into the room. I turned my head just enough to see past it.
It wasn't morning.
It was night.
Dark.
Quiet.
And that's when it hit me.
Hard.
This wasn't near the park anymore. This wasn't even close to anything familiar.
I wasn't just taken—
I was gone.
Far enough that no one would casually find me.
Keifer—
My chest tightened at the thought. If he had come back and I wasn't there… if he saw that bracelet—
He would know.
And if he knew—
He wouldn't stay still.
The thought should have comforted me.
Instead, it made everything worse.
Because I knew what they wanted.
Footsteps pulled my attention back.
Slow.
Confident.
Someone walked in, and I lifted my head just enough to see him clearly.
Keizer.
A smirk rested easily on his face, like this entire situation amused him. He walked toward me without any rush, hands in his pockets, eyes fixed on me like I was already part of a plan he had finished in his head.
"Well," he said lightly, stopping a few steps away. "You're awake."
I didn't respond.
Didn't give him anything.
His smirk didn't fade. If anything, it deepened.
"Good," he continued. "Makes this easier."
He tilted his head slightly, studying me, then spoke again—calm, casual, like he was asking for something simple.
"Call your boyfriend."
My fingers curled slightly against the floor.
"Tell him to come here," he added. "And take you."
There it was.
Exactly what I expected.
Exactly what I wasn't going to do.
"No."
The word came out quieter than I wanted, but steady.
He watched me for a second.
Then smiled again.
Slow.
Amused.
"I thought you'd say that."
He didn't raise his voice.
Didn't step closer.
He just lifted his hand slightly and gestured.
That was enough.
The men in the room shifted, their attention locking onto me.
My heartbeat picked up, but I forced myself not to look away.
I already knew what this meant.
I knew what came next.
But I didn't move.
Didn't beg.
Didn't change my answer.
"Still no?" he asked, almost bored.
I met his eyes.
"…still no."
For a brief second, the room felt completely still.
Then everything shifted again.
The men stepped closer—not rushing, not chaotic—just controlled, deliberate. One of them crouched slightly in front of me, gripping my hair to force my head up. Pain shot through my scalp, but I clenched my jaw, refusing to react the way they wanted.
"Stubborn," he muttered.
Maybe.
But not enough to break.
I tried to speak, but my voice didn't come out right. My throat felt tight, dry, useless.
So instead—
I smiled.
Small.
Barely there.
But enough.
Enough to show them I wasn't giving in.
That I wasn't afraid of them the way they expected.
The reaction was immediate.
Annoyance.
Frustration.
That smile did more than words ever could.
The grip tightened, the tension in the room rising, but I didn't let it fade.
Not now.
Not in front of him.