We walk upstairs and through something that looks like a living room and then ends up in a big kitchen. All the furniture goes in black and white. White benches with midnight-stone colored tops, a fridge and freezer, microwave, coffee machine. All the normal stuff, just a couple of hundreds of dollars more expensive, and with a big island in the middle. Surrounded by five guys who immediately stops talking as Nick and I enter the room.

I want to sink through the floor or cringe into a ball because of their eyeing look but, unfortunately, I can't and Nick puts a hand on my back, pushing me forwards.

My eyes attach my gaze at my feet, which are all of a sudden becoming extremely interesting.

"So, that's the little rebel, huh?", an unfamiliar voice says, breaking the silence. Nick clears his throat and a small smirk appears on his face.

"Yeah, even though it doesn't look like it right now. I actually think she's a little shy", he says and moves his hand from my back onto my waist.

I feel my cheeks heat up by his words and I squirm out of his grip, earning a few chuckles from the guys around the island.

I can feel their eyes boring into my neck but I have let my hair falling in front of my face as a shield, hiding my face from the others.

"Does she even talk?", another voice, this one slightly familiar, asks.

"Like I said", Nick chuckles, "I think she's shy."

My mind screams at him, internally, that he is wrong. I'm not shy, but I'm not stupid either and I want to annoy him as much as possible, or at least as much as I dare to.

If Nick, or anyone else of these guys, want me to talk, I rather shut up. If they want me to eat, I rather just pick in it, clearly showing my repulsion.

"You didn't hurt her much, did you?", a third voice asks, not sounding really caring.

Nick shakes his head. "No, I didn't."

"Good", the third person says again and I furrow my eyebrows.

Was there a real reason to why he didn't hurt me? And if there is, then why?

Suddenly someone pulls back my hair and places it behind my ear. Reluctantly, I look up and find Nick smiling at me, not smirking.

I give him a glare before I can stop myself, and his eyes turn a shade darker as he sees it.

He leans in closer to me, his lips brushing against my earlobe.

"Now, what did I say about that?", he whispers and a shiver runs down my spine, and my eyes flicker down to my feet.

"Hey, dude", the third voice says again and I look at the owner of the voice. It's the blonde one, Zeke. He notices my stare and gives me a smirk and gives me a wink. I feel my cheeks blush against my will and I turn my face away from him as he continues.

"Why is she handcuffed to you?"

Nick chuckles. "She's not very cooperative, and besides, she looks adorable when she's mad."

I instantly open my mouth to say something rude, but I bit my lip once I remember the stupid, idiotic rules.

Zeke laughs slightly and turn his gaze to me again.

"Are you hungry?", he asks and before I even have the chance to say something, Nick opens his mouth and answer in my place.

"Yes, she is." I take a deep breath to calm down my tense nerves and the strong urge to punch Nick, or give him a high-five. In the face. With a chair.

"No, she's not", I speak up, not even bother to hide the annoyance in my voice.

This time, it's Nick who gives me a glare.

"Yes, she is", he repeats and I shake my head.

"No, I'm not", I press out through clenched teeth. I think I'm pushing his buttons, but he pushed down my own a long time ago.

Before Nick has the time to open his mouth to speak, someone puts their hand on his shoulder, catching his attention.

"Don't", a brown-haired guy who I recognized as Vince said, "if you are going to hit her, please let me do it instead."

I feel my lips form into a silent 'o' and I take a few steps back, just to hit the island.

"Relax", Zeke says lightly, "no one's punching anyone. At least not yet."

I look at him, his blonde hair is still tucked in a beanie which is gray and really worn out. A frown forms between my eyebrows. I didn't know if his words soothed me, or just made me more anxious.

"You want food or not?", Zeke asks me again, this time with a slight annoyance in his voice. I contemplating whether or not I should eat. I do want to stay strong and fit, they already got the upper hand and I'm not going to give up without a fight, but at the same time, I don't want to be drugged either.

Can I trust them enough to eat a small meal? My whole brain screams no, but I feel my head nod slowly as an answer to his question.

"Good choice", Zeke smirks, a disturbing smile similar to Nick's, "you're going to need all the energy you can get."

Nick puts a hand behind my back again, roughly pushing my down a chair. He then releases me from the handcuffs, thankfully, and turns around. He opens a fridge and fumbles with something for a while until he comes back and places a plate with a hamburger and french fries in front of me, alongside with a glass of orange juice.

I pick up the fork he gives me and shoves some french fries into my mouth. They are cold, and once I take a bite of the hamburger, I notice it isn't any different. I get a sudden urge of walking into the microwave and put in the plate and warm the food, but something tells me I should be thankful for what I got, and I get a strong feeling of that I'm right now am eating leftovers. Ugh.

I turn my gaze back to the plate, and notice everyone around the island are staring at me. I give out a frustrated groan.

"Can you guys just stop doing that?!"

"Doing what, buttercup?", the green-eyed guy I remember as Kirk mocks. I put down my fork with a loud clash.

"Stop staring at me", I yell, then instantly put a hand over my mouth once I see their reactions. I swear, their faces went from broad smiles to a countenance similar to the ones you get when you bit a lemon, and all in the short time it took for me to yell out the words.

"I think it's time we start", Zeke says and stands up. I'm not catching up on what he means, and I think the confusion shows clearly in my widened eyes.

"We're going to count to sixty, and you're going to run the fastest you can. We'll give you a chance to escape, so don't screw it up."

My mouth is wide open and I stare at him, confused and with furrowed eyebrows.

"What's the catch?" Instead of answering me, Zeke starts counting.

"One... two..."

I want to throw something at the floor, like the glass of orange juice I haven't touched due same reasons as before, but all I do is yelling at them again.

"What? Clearly, you can't be seri-"

"Three", Zeke said before I accomplished the sentence. I see a glimpse of sinister in his eyes, and as I turn to face the rest of the guys, they're all counting simultaneously with Zeke.

Understanding the seriousness of the situation, I jump off the chair and turn on my heels and start running as I hear their counting as a low chanting in the background.