After I talk with my mom, I don't waste time heading toward Thorne's place. Hope starts to fill me to the brim, and I can't stop thinking of the thought of Thorne and I together again. I was so stupid when I broke things off with him. I didn't even give him a chance to explain himself. So that's what I'm going to do now—hear him out. He at least deserves that, doesn't he?

I still have the spare key Thorne gave me to his house on my key-chain, which is convenient right about now. I don't pay much attention to anything as I storm out of my car, racing to his front door. Adrenaline courses through my veins like I'm on some sort of action mission. I'm inside the house in seconds, calling, "Thorne? Please let—"

"Ah," I hear a voice saying—one that doesn't sound like Thorne's at all. The sound stops me in my tracks, and I hesitate somewhere between the front door and the kitchen. "Just who we were expecting."

We?

I look into Thorne's living room with wide eyes, my mouth gaping open. Fear courses through my veins, my heart thudding in my chest. Because it's not Thorne sitting on his couch, staring at me with an amused smirk curled on his lips. Instead, it's another man, one that I've never met personally before but couldn't forget if I tried. I recognize the dark hair, the bright blue eyes, the perfectly tailored suit.

Franco.

And he's not alone. It only takes me a second to notice the two large men the size of refrigerators standing in the corner of Thorne's living room—Franco's body guards. If I wasn't frightened before, I'm terrified right about now.

"Don't look so startled," Franco says with a condescending tone, rising from Thorne's couch slowly. His movements are calculated and planned out, as if he really was expecting this to happen. For me to run right into his trap. "We're not going to hurt you. Well, I take that back. We don't want to hurt you, but we will if we have to."

"Where's Thorne?" My voice trembles, yet I still manage to get the words out. Don't let him see how scared you are, I tell myself. Be strong. "What did you do to him?"

Franco chuckles like he finds me funny, shaking his head. "That's the problem," he reveals, slowly making his way toward me. "I don't know where Thorne is. I'm afraid this here is my last resort to make him come out of hiding."

"What do you mean?" My hands shake at my sides. I wish they didn't. I don't want him to know how afraid I am in this moment. It takes everything I've got to try to keep calm, to try to tell myself that I am going to be okay.

"You see, Sunshine." When Thorne calls me Sunshine, it makes me smile—despite where the nickname originated. When this man calls me Sunshine, however, it makes me feel dirty. Like I need to take a shower to wash the sound of the word off of me. "Your little boyfriend wronged me in the past. I gave him everything. I gave him good money for easy work. I helped cover the cost of his sickly mother's hospital bills. I was practically a father to him."

I know there's no way what Franco is saying can be true. Franco was never a father figure to Thorne. He was his worst nightmare. I remember what Thorne told me about his past gang life. How his arrest and being behind bars was the first time he had experienced freedom since he first joined Franco's little gang. Franco hadn't given Thorne anything. He'd destroyed everything. Thorne was his little hamster, and Franco's gang was the spinning wheel. Over and over again, Franco trapped Thorne in that little wheel, just because he wanted to see how far Thorne would run for him.

"And, in the end, what did it matter?" Franco continues casually, as if he is simply talking about the weather. "Thorne still walked out on me. And you don't walk out on family." A dark shadow crosses Franco's features, making him appear scarier than ever. "It took a long time to track Thorne down after he got released from juvie, but I did it. Once I found out Thorne's daddy was a loaded bastard, I decided Thorne could be generous and share a little with his family. But he's been stubborn about getting me the money I deserve, so I'm afraid I'm going to have to take out my frustrations on you, Sunshine."

"W-what do you mean?" I ask, voice quivering. I want to get out of here. If I run fast enough, I might just be able to make it out of the door and to my car. If only my legs would work, that wouldn't be a problem.

"Don't take this personally." Franco ignores my question, gesturing for the two big men in the corner of the living room to wander over. His smirk is nothing short of wicked as he watches the men stroll toward me. "It's strictly business, Mia Rose."

The next thing I know, the two men have my arms in their hands, holding me hostage. It doesn't seem to matter how much I kick or scream or fight, their grip doesn't lessen. I'm simply outnumbered. Before I know it, Franco is jamming a needle into the side of my neck roughly. I feel pain, and then I feel the fight going out of me. Suddenly, my eyelids are too heavy to hold open. I'm fading in and out of consciousness, feeling delirious. One second, I'm being carried by the two nameless men, Franco on their trail, toward God knows where. The next second I'm laying on the ground with sunshine streaming down onto my face, warming my skin, Thorne looking down at me with a knowing smile on his lips. I like that image better, so that's where I choose to stay.

Slowly, Thorne's image starts to wane. The soft smile on his face is the last thing I see before I'm out cold, the world dying to darkness all around me.

★★★

When I come to, the first thing I notice is a bright light shining down on my face. I wince, as the light hurts my eyes. My head throbs in rhythm with my heartbeat, and I feel like I'm going to be sick. I'm unable to recall where I am or what I did to led me to this place. The side of my neck burns like a fire is dancing across my skin.

As I slowly start to regain consciousness, I find that I'm in some sort of room. The walls are white, and so is the ground. It's empty besides the bright florescent lighting and the chair that I'm strapped—

Wait, what? I glance down, wondering how I ended up tied to a chair. I mean, I'm an eighteen-year-old girl in high school! How did I end up here?

That's when the memories slowly start coming back to me, flooding my mind. I can't remember much, just little pictures. Mom and I on the couch. Thorne's trailer. Franco. Becoming weightless from the ground. Thorne smiling down at me. I struggle to remember what's real and what's not real, the images disappearing as soon as they appear. How did I get here? How long have I been here? Where is here? What time was it when I left? What time is it now?

I would check the time, but my phone is gone. All of my personal belongings are, actually. The cash I had on me, my keys, all of it—gone. Plus, there's the little fact that I'm, you know, tied to a chair!

The door in the corner of the room bursts open just then, revealing no other than Franco himself. He gives me a wide smile like he's an old friend of mine seeing me after a long time as he cries, "You're up! Finally!"

"How long was I out?" My voice is hoarse, like I've been screaming to no end. It feels like I'm talking through a mouth full of glass, the sharp edges ripping through my throat.

"Oh," Franco says casually, shrugging. "I don't know . . . a few hours?"

"Hours?" I barely manage to say the word, my throat too sore. Just the simple action of speaking seems to drain me of too much effort. My head starts to throb faster, and I need to squeeze my eyes closed just to get in a full breath. "You have to let me go! You don't understand, my parents—"

"Don't matter," Franco hisses, smirking at me. "Until Thorne gives me that money, you're not going anywhere, Princess."

"Don't call me that!"

"Oh." Franco's eyebrows shoot up, looking smug with himself. "A feisty one, huh? No wonder Thorne likes you so much."

I inhale a sharp breath, as the burn I'm feeling on my neck only worsens. I keep my eyelids squeezed closed tightly, wishing my head would stop spinning. And why does my throat hurt so badly? Why won't my head stop throbbing?

"What did you give me?" I manage to choke out, trying to glare at Franco as menacing as possible under the circumstances.

The man merely shrugs, smirking at me coyly. "Just a little something to knock you out. Don't worry, it'll wear off soon. Not the worst I could have given you."

"He's not going to come for me," I mumble, the words stinging to say physically and emotionally. Ironically, they might be the one thing that will help save me. "We're broken up. I ended things with him in January." The worst part is that I believe it. He really won't come for me. There has been too much time apart, and I hurt him in a way only I ever could. A way he trusted that I wouldn't. To Thorne, I am now simply just another person that entered his life only to walk right back out.

He won't come for me.

"That's where you're wrong, Sunshine." Franco walks around my chair in circles as he speaks, clearly enjoying himself. If I could move, I'd be ripping his throat out right about now. "You see, you could stab Thorne in the heart with a knife and he'd still love you. You don't know boys like Thorne. I do. I practically raised him, after all. The amount of people he loves is small, but he's deeply protective of them. And he loves you, Sunshine. So, it's a brilliant plan, really. Thorne will hear wind of your . . . er, situation, and give me the money he owes me. Then you'll be free to go."

"And what happens if he doesn't?" My voice is weak. I try not to let it show that I'm afraid of the answer. But I am. Terrified, to be frank.

"If Thorne doesn't come through with the money he owes me in the next twenty-four hours." Franco suddenly stops pacing, standing in front of me with a malicious gleam in his awful blue eyes and a cruel smile to match. "Then I'm afraid I'll have to kill you. You know too much. Don't think I didn't find out about your little visit to my bar. You could have me arrested, and we can't have that, now can we?"

"You're sick," I spit. I literally spit, right in his face. Franco just smirks as he wipes my saliva off of his cheek, shaking his head.

"Maybe," he says, rising to his full height and making his way back to the door. "But I'm about to be rich, and that's really all that matters, isn't it?"