Taylor’s Time

No blather from me; let’s go right to Taylor!

My dearest readers, lately writing has been somewhat of a challenge for me. When writer’s block weighs heavily and life takes your time, it becomes harder and harder to get your words down. But that doesn’t mean I’m going to stop. I will never stop writing, so don’t be afraid. The poetic soul that Adam spoke of at the very beginning is still shining bright within me. There is so much more to come. Thanks for reading.

Chapter Three

Ice crunched beneath the tires as the truck came to a stop.

No, no, no, no!

I wanted to break free of my zip-ties, take Avan’s hand, tell him how much he meant to me, apologize for not being braver. Instead, I shuffled across the seats until I felt his shoulder pressed against mine and I buried my face against him. He pressed his mouth hard against my head. We sat there, one soul in two bodies, waiting for the end.

The door beside us opened and Avan was dragged out before I had the chance to say goodbye. Then it was my turn. I kicked and thrashed with everything I had, my muscles burning with the effort. All around me voices were raised in malice, anger, frustration. A pair of arms grabbed me from behind, holding me firmly in place. My hood was removed and hot breath blew over my ear.

“Don’t make this difficult.” a male voice growled.

He pointed to where Avan stood restrained by our captor, his back arched in a painful position, arms bound behind his back, the blade of a knife touching the smooth skin of his throat. Our hoods lay on the ground, soaking up the snow. The message was clear. I accepted my defeat and moved.

It took me a while to realize we weren’t in the woods. We weren’t even in a remote area. We were in a parking lot, a parking lot with two or three cars not counting the truck. Where there were cars, there were people. Tears welled up in my eyes. We weren’t going to die.

We were led to a warehouse, old and worn down, like it hadn’t been used in years. A few feet away from the door our captor cut Avan’s bonds and released him. Avan stumbled forward, back curled, arms spread as if to keep himself from falling. The knife was tossed in my direction and my bonds were cut too. I rushed away before they could stop me, crashing into Avan, holding him so tight it almost hurt. I felt his hands in my hair as he pressed me closer. His bare chest was hot, no doubt from anger, and I soaked in his warmth. He pushed away from me, stared at my face for a moment, then wiped the blood from my cheek with his hand. I’d been so focused on my emotions throughout the ride, I hadn’t even noticed the throbbing pain on the left side of my face. I felt it now, though as I lifted a hand to my cheek and winced. Avan’s eyebrows drew closer together. All at once, I watched a fire destroying the lush forests in his eyes. Anticipating his next move, I grabbed his arm.