radicalducati ABDUCTION
ABDUCTION
Angela ran through the dark, wet streets, her heart pounding heavily in her chest. Unsure of where she was or her destination, but one thing she was sure of was that all she wanted was to escape from that Monster.
Antonio! Moving on, she strolled along Reardon Drive in the dark night, cursing as she kept carrying her heavy, lazy legs off the ground with each pace. Her neck still hurts from his fingers. The rain gradually ceased, but her body was cold and soaked, causing her to shiver uncontrollably. She rubbed her wet shoulders with her hands crossed over as if to keep her body warm. Silently, she prayed for a miracle.
As if her prayer was answered instantly, faster than she expected, on the other side a yellow cab cruised slowly, blinking its red light. With a sigh of relief, Angela waved at it desperately with both hands above her head. She sniffed and dried her wet face.
"Hey!" The car began to slow down. With a smile of relief, she hurried across before the driver changed his mind and drove off. Slowly, the window wound down. The driver gave her an inspecting gaze from her hair to her feet. His looks gave her some discomfort—a scar that almost blinded his eyes, and another on his bald head. “Where to?” the vicious-looking driver asked. Angela hesitantly gave him the address, and his eyes rested on her face. “You look familiar.” Immediately realizing how popular she was by having something with the Monteros. It made her nervous and scared to reveal her true identity. “That’s what people say,” she chuckled nervously. The man nodded. “Get inside the car.” Angela drew a deep breath and got inside the car, with a deep sigh and relaxed against the leather of the car's back seat. All the windows were open, and the night breeze was cold and pleasant but not enough to heal her heavy heart as the episodes of what happened with Antonio kept haunting her memory. Hot tears rolled down her cheeks.
Their route took them through some of Beverly Hills' streets, lovely and the lights so enchanting to watch. Surprisingly, the man on the wheel, the cabbie, was not the communicative type. He didn’t make an attempt to start a conversation or ask her questions, only stealing glances at her in a creepy way. This made her very uncomfortable. As they left the main residential area, they became the only car on the overgrown, twisting, tortuous road that led to her home. Again, Angela caught the young man’s gaze, and the look she saw there gave her a sudden feeling of foreboding. A moment later, as he stepped on the brake abruptly, she knew her senses had not deceived her. Something is definitely wrong! “Get down and leave everything including your bag!” A voice ordered with a roar, with a pistol pointing at her through the open window. There were two other men outside. The driver got down, and the three men talked in a language Angela could not understand. Angela did not attempt to argue with them or object but obeyed quickly. She got down from the cab as ordered, praying silently that they wouldn’t have any dirty intentions to rape her, but only rob her. This is not how she wanted her first time, why so unfortunate?
"She's even more beautiful than I thought she would be," one of the men said, leering at Angela. "I bet she's worth a lot of money." The other man laughed. "You're right,” the driver replied. "We could make a fortune off of her. And besides, it's not like anyone is going to miss her. She's just some rich man's plaything," the second man pointed out. Angela felt sick to her stomach, her heart pounding in her chest. “Check her bag and see what she got there,” the driver, who seemed to be their leader, ordered. With two hands raised above her head, Angela watched fearfully as the two other men emptied her bag onto the floor and rifled through it.
“This is all the cash she got?” One of them held up the hundred-dollar bill with a disgusted expression on his face. “Are you sure she is the one?” The third asked. “I am certain she is Montero's bride,” the second replied. The driver was silent with a cigar clamped in his teeth. Angela's feet felt cold and her body trembled uncontrollably. “I have no money, I am not who you think…” “Shut up!” The second man yelled in her face, showering her with his saliva. The driver leaned against the cab and stared at her menacingly, his lips thin, hair wild, and teeth stained with tobacco. Angela wished she could die at that moment, afraid to predict what might be going on in his mind. A gang bang…no…never…she can't survive, she will be better off killed. The driver/leader brought his phone and swiped to a picture of her to compare. The smoke from his nostrils, blurring his vision, then his glance went back to Angela. “Tell her to strip,” he ordered. Angela's eyes widened. “Please sir, I am begging you, please.” ”Strip!” The third man yelled into her ear, this time, hard and loud.