I woke up frightened.

My head was pounding, and I couldn't move. I felt rope rub against my skin as I tried to move my wrists and ankles.

I looked down to find myself wearing a large t-shirt. I'm going to die.

I head loud footsteps echo off the walls. Why does it have to be me?

The man who shot the other came into my view.

"You know, I really don't like it when someone witnesses a murder." I started to shake. "I could get in some trouble with the awful excuse of a police force this country somehow still has. Of course, I wouldn't get into any trouble, but it takes effort that I don't feel like giving."

He started to come closer to me. My heartbeat sped up. I thought it was so loud that he could hear it. I swear my ribs might explode from the pounding. My mind felt almost lightheaded from the anxious thoughts running through my mind.

Suddenly, his hand came up and back handed me. My check stung from the force. He did it again but in the other direction. This one was worse. He must be left handed. My chair fell over on its side, and I almost cried out as I felt the pain spread. He kicked my stomach, and that time, I did cry out.

He roughly pulled my hair up, and yanked my head so the chair was upright again. I wanted to scream, but it hurt so badly, I couldn't.

"Just wait till the king gets here. He'll watch me torture you and then kill you himself." I whimpered. I don't want to die. Not yet. I haven't done so many things. I've never had a boyfriend. I've never been in love. I've never really traveled. Oh please! I don't want to die.

The sound of footsteps filled my ears. Oh no! Please don't let it be him.

"Oh, you got lucky. The king is here early." Crap. I started to cry.

"Tony, what did you want?" A gruff voice sounded out.

"Oh this girl witnessed a murder, and I can't let that go unpunished. I need you to kill her." I started to cry louder. I didn't know what to do. I've never experienced this type of thing before. I've only seen it in movies or read about. I can't handle the real thing.

"Hmm. Let me ask her a few questions." He began walking over to me. This is it. I'm dead. I saw his shoes come into my view as I was looking down, hair covering my face.

"Look at me." He growled out. I started to cry, too afraid to look. He grasped my chin and lifted my face to meet his. I mentally gasped. It's the guy from last night. His eyes held surprise too, before anger erupted in them. I cowered back in fear of what he might do.

"Who did this to your face?" He growled. I started to cry again and shake.

"Him." I whispered and gave a small nod toward the guy who hit me.

His head shot over at "Tony", and yelled. "Get the fuck out of my sight!"

Tony's face instantly morphed into one of fear, and he scurried off.

The guy from last night turned back toward me, and I whimpered. I'm probably going to die now. He started untying my from the chair, and it was safe to say I was confused.

Once he finished untying me, he stated, "get up." I slowly did as he told, thinking one wrong move and I'm dead. However, I felt dizzy and my abdomen hurt from the kick. I fell over, but before I hit the floor, warm arms wrapped around me. I heard him mumble something along the lines of "I'm going to kill him."

He picked me up and carried me out of where ever we were. I faintly remembered being outside and getting into a car. Once seated in the car, I blacked out.

I woke up to arms setting my body down on a bed. I opened my eyes to see the man I helped. I should ask about the wound.

"Is your wound okay?" I mumbled.

He started at me with shock before he covered it up with a stoic expression.

"I don't think that matters right now. Look at you. But, it's fine." He stated. Then his expression turned angry again. I cowered away a little. "Where did he hurt you?"

I opened my mouth to speak, but nothing came out.

"Answer me!" He yelled, while lifting me towards him, pushing on where Tony kicked me. I yelled out and wiggled away from his grasp. He instantly let go, and I fell back on the bed.

He lifted my shirt to check my abdomen. My cheeks flushed as I saw I was in my back lacy underwear under the shirt. He only seemed to focus on the large, dark bruises on my side.

He abruptly got up and left. He came back in a few seconds with an ice pack and ointment. He rubbed ointment on my wound, making me wince a little. He then set the ice pack over my side.

I was starting to get sleepy, and I think he noticed.

"Sleep. Don't worry. I promise nothing will happen to you." He started to stroke my hair, and I let the sleepiness take over. I couldn't even muster up a reply.

But one thought came to mind: can I trust him?