"How about we go for a little ride?" The man standing on the other side of the knife proposed, though I doubted I had any choice in the matter.

Inspect the opponent. What does he have to his advantage?

"She looks up for it," the second one sprawled out on my couch commented, and I could almost hear the smirk plastered on his scarred face.

Find a point of weakness, or search for a way to create a distraction.

"I'd allow you to change into a more comfortable outfit, but unfortunately we're running late."

Now decide: fight, or flight?

"Had a long day, eh? You looked really exhausted in that bathtub."

That last sentence dragged me out of my thoughts. My head snapped towards the man seated on the couch, my eyes widening in horror. He had seen me in the bathtub, where I lied unconscious - and bare. A burning bile rose in my throat, and I gulped to try and hold everything in. Though releasing the contents of my stomach on my opponent's shoes didn't seem like such a bad idea, I couldn't spare the time.

Their advantage was definitely their muscle, and they were also armed. In my distressed state, I couldn't bring myself to inspect any point of weakness, nor could I arrange my thoughts to fish for a distraction.

Control your breathing. The only way out is by maintaining a calm mental state.

I breathed in, feeling my lungs expand and a shiver run down my spine, straightening my back up from the slight crouch I had gone into earlier - an automatic defense position as a result of standing on the other side of a pointed weapon.

"Here's the thing, bella," my opponent spoke as he began to lower his armed hand. Through his pronounciation, I recognized his accent as Italian. "My hand here is growing tired, and you seem smart enough to not pull a stunt you'll regret later." He stared back into my eyes, pausing for a second to accentuate the threat behind his words. "So, I'll play the gentleman here-" his sentence was interrupted by a mocking scoff from the corner of the room. He glared at the man seated before turning back to me. Raising his armed hand, he swirled the knife around as if showing it off, then slowly tucked it at the waist of his black jeans. "No knife. No stunts."

Weak point.

I reluctantly nodded my head, pretending to accept his deal.

"C-can I just know one thing?" My voice came out in a whisper, and it sounded deeper, like I was suffering from a sore throat.

"It speaks!" The man on the chair exclaimed, throwing his arms up in mock glory. I flinched back, gasping.

I looked back at the man standing opposite me, seeing him roll his eyes, then nod at me in encouragement.

"What do you want from me?"

Instead of providing an answer, he only groaned in annoyance. "That is not my business," he replied. I stared at him in confusion. How is it not his business? He was here, threatening me with a knife!

"He is simply a man, doing his job," The one on the couch explained for him.

The man smiled, and motioned with his head towards me. "Delivering you."

I could only stare back in horror, his words slowly registering in my mind. They were sent to get me? That means there's someone bigger behind this. My heart began to beat rapidly against my rib-cage, threatening to burst out at any second.

"This is taking forever," The stranger on the couch complained, rolling his neck around in a stretch.

"Can I at least put on some decent clothes?" I knew I was pushing my luck, but I needed a distraction.

He tsk-ed, "I think I like you better in that bathrobe."

I clenched my fists by my sides, controlling my breathing that was now coming out in rapid huffs. Maintain a calm mental state, I reminded myself of my old instructor's words.

I took a step forward to everyone's surprise. Their eyes widened in amusement as they inspected my movement, and I forced my feet to take another step.

"Good girl," the man standing in front of the door appraised, nodding in approval. He took a step to the side, gesturing towards the door in a fake, chivalrous act.

Flight.

The second the word registered in my brain, an instant shot of adrenaline coursed through my veins, traveling the length of my body and finding root in my legs, fueling them with a power I never realized was stored within me. I charged forward in such an instant it took my body by surprise, the bun on top of my head falling back from the inertia. I had memorized the apartment's interior like the back of my hand from the amount of times I'd spent lounging in the living-room with my friends, so reaching the front door took less than two seconds. I yanked the doorknob with such a force I thought I heard a faint crack as my elbow bone stretched.

Within the same instant that I passed the door frame, I heard a loud curse from behind me followed by pounding footsteps. No time for the elevator. I shoved the doors to the staircase and jogged down, skipping two - often three - steps in my hurry to get as far away as possible. My clammy and shaking palm gripped tightly onto the stair rail, begging it not to let me fall.

The sound of heavy pounding boots followed behind me, and realizing they had their height to their advantage - hence, longer legs - I began to hyperventilate and a black spot or two popped into my vision.

I finally reached the end of the stairway and yanked open the door, finding myself right in the middle of the front lobby. My eyes immediately fell to the front desk, seeing a head flopped on top, stiff and immobile. My heart thrummed to a beat so rapid I feared it might stop all at once. My throat tightened as I recognized the neatly combed black hair; Paul. He was unconscious, and as much as I despised myself for it, I pushed my feet to continue moving towards the door - knowing I couldn't spare a second to check whether he's alive, or else we'd lose both our chances at survival.

I pushed through the front door with a force that knocked the breath out of me, my eyes frantically searching the empty, dark street for any sign that could help me escape the men hot on my heels. I could hear their yells coming closer by the second, so I charged forward into a sprint down the street, my eyes still searching for any passersby.

I was suddenly jerked back by the top of my robe, exposing my shoulders, and roughly hauled over a stiff shoulder that dug into my stomach, knocking the breath out of me. My eyes adjusted to the unexpected change, and I found myself staring at the back of moving boots. Stretching my right leg back, I forced it forward and kneed my kidnapper in the ribs, earning a pained oomph as it knocked the breath out of him. However, his grip only tightened on the back of my thighs as he continued jogging away.

Raising my head, I tried to open my mouth to scream for help, but a sudden click had me pulling my lips back together. I strained my head to identify the direction of the noise, and it seemed to come from behind me. Before I had any chance to comprehend what was happening, I heard a sharp, contained pop, followed by a deep groan and the thump of a heavy object as it plummeted to the ground. A second later, the same noise echoed again, only this time it caused a slight vibration beneath me and the man's grip on my legs loosened, his body slipping away as he collapsed in the middle of the street, pulling me down with him. I found myself falling face forward on the ground, my head roughly colliding with the asphalt. Ignoring the pounding from the side of my head, I took the opportunity to scurry away from the body I was half-lying on top, still not fully aware of what had gone down. On my hands and knees, I scampered away from the two culprits until I was a good three feet away, before the exhaustion wearied me down.

With my blurred vision - the result of both my frantic tears and the collision with the ground - I turned around to face my fate, expecting the two men to be towering over me, ready to snatch me away. But through hazy eyes, I found them both sprawled out in odd angles on the asphalt, their bodies frozen.

I traced their bodies to find them each bearing a bloodied wound. My eyes then fell on the third party which my brain finally came to acknowledge. Through my blurred vision, I could only see the silhouette of a tall man, carrying a dark weapon in his gloved right hand. Silenced gun, my mind identified. That was the noise I must've heard earlier.

With no more strength left within my body to hold me upright, I allowed my elbows to give in and fell backward on the clammy asphalt, the pounding in my head seemingly increasing with time. I accepted my inevitable fate, and watched through unfocused eyes as the armed silhouette neared me, until the last of my vision turned black and I fell unconscious.

--

(A/N):

Thank you for reading my book! Don't forget to vote if you liked this chapter, and let me know what you think down in the comments.

-Yasmeen.