Chapter Twenty Eight (Escaping).

Blossom's POV.

As I slowly opened my eyes, I was met with an unfamiliar ceiling. The room was small, with drab gray walls that seemed to close in on me. The air was stale, and I could taste the dust on my tongue.

I tried to sit up, but a wave of dizziness washed over me, forcing me to lie back down. My head pounded, and my mouth felt dry and sticky.

As I looked around, I saw that I was in some kind of dingy motel room. The bed was a single, narrow affair, with a worn-out blanket tossed over it. There was a small table in the corner, with a chair tucked underneath. On the table, there was a glass of water, a plate with a sandwich, and a note.

I struggled to sit up again, this time managing to prop myself up against the headboard. I reached for the note, my hands shaking slightly as I unfolded it.

I looked around the room again, searching for any clues. There was a small window on one wall, but it was barred, with thick iron rods that looked impossible to bend.

I was trapped.

Panic began to set in, my heart racing as I realized the true extent of my situation. I was a prisoner, held captive by unknown kidnappers.

And I had no idea what they wanted with me.

I had no clue what they wanted from me.

Just then, I heard footsteps approaching the room—multiple pairs of them.

I thought about either pretending to be still unconscious or just staying still.

In the end, fear made the decision for me.

I quickly lay back on the bed and closed my eyes.

The door creaked open, and the sound of their footsteps resonated throughout the room.

Two of them stopped while one approached the bed.

Once at the bed, it paused—as if the person was clearly staring at me.

I did my utmost to avoid revealing any signs of waking up.

"Wow! So here lies the famous daughter of Harrison and Vincent's beloved. No wonder he couldn't take his eyes off her," he remarked as he settled onto the bed.

*Harrison?! That's my dad! How on earth is he famous here too? That old man follows my mom and me everywhere we go. What does he have to do with my kidnapping?*

He traced his fingers lightly over my face.

"How much did you administer to her?" his low, intimidating voice inquired.

"Five milligrams of Diazepam, sir," came the reply from another man, a slight tremor in his tone.

"Good. That should keep her unconscious for a while. Did she give you any trouble?"

"A little, sir; she stabbed my leg with a small knife."

A chuckle escaped the menacing voice, sending chills down my spine as he continued his unsettling touch to my face. "Well, you didn't think you could snatch Vincent's princess without some sort of consequence, did you?"

"Alright then, let's prepare. Did you implant it?" He finally rose from the bed and addressed the other man.

*Implant what?!*

"Yes, sir," came the anxious reply.

"Mmm, let's move," he stated and strode out of the room.

Once the door clicked shut, I exhaled silently. I had been feigning unconsciousness for some time, but it appeared my captors intended to keep me sedated for a lengthy duration.

I was certain it was Nathan's crew.

I realized I needed to act swiftly, devise a plan to get away before they relocated me. For the moment, I sprang to my feet and scanned the room.

But escape seemed impossible until I felt something in the pocket of my shorts.

I reached in and pulled out the knife Vincent had given me—the one I had used to stab the kidnapper in the leg, now stained with blood.

I recalled slipping it into my pocket after the attack, retrieving it from his flesh.

*Perfect! I've got myself a weapon. Now, I just need to figure out how to get out of here.*

I peeked at the lock and noticed it was surprisingly flimsy.

*It's no wonder they're hesitant to confront Vincent. Look at this pathetic lock they used to keep someone captive.*

I opened a drawer and found a pin.

*Checkmate!*

I inserted the pin into the lock and began to work on picking it. My hands trembled, but I concentrated on the task at hand.After a few minutes of fiddling, I heard the satisfying click of the lock disengaging.

I slowly turned the handle and pushed the door open, peeking outside to see if anyone was around. The coast was clear.

I slipped out of the room, knife at the ready. I found myself in a dimly lit corridor, with several doors leading off to either side. I could hear the sound of voices coming from the far end of the hall.

I crept forward, trying to be as quiet as possible. As I turned a corner, I saw two men standing guard outside a door. They were both big and muscular, with menacing scowls on their faces.

I knew I had to take them down quickly and quietly. I charged forward, knife flashing in the dim light. The first guard didn't even see me coming, and I managed to take him down with a swift kick to the stomach followed by a slash across his chest.

*Well, defense class is finally paying off.*

The second guard was more alert, and he swung a meaty fist at me. I dodged the blow and struck back with my knife, aiming for his shoulder. He howled in pain as the blade bit deep.

But as I turned to make my escape, I felt a searing pain in my side. One of the guards had managed to land a slam on the same hand I got shot on, and I could feel a warm trickle of blood spreading across my skin.

I gritted my teeth and kept moving, knowing I had to get out of there before more guards arrived. I stumbled down the corridor, my vision blurring slightly from the pain.

But I refused to give up. I kept pushing forward, driven by adrenaline and determination. Finally, I saw a glimmer of light ahead – a doorway leading out into the night.

I burst through the door and found myself in a deserted alleyway. I took a deep breath of the cool air and started to run, not stopping until I was sure I had left my captors far behind.

The streets were nearly deserted in the early morning gloom, shadows still cloaking the world.

*By this time, those fools must be far ahead.*

I slowed my pace, gasping for breath as the pain in my arm intensified; blood flowed steadily.

I gestured to several passing cars, hoping for a stop, but my efforts were in vain. Just as fatigue settled in and standing straight became a struggle, I spotted a vehicle approaching. Acting on impulse, I leaped onto the road right in front of it. Fortunately, it came to a halt, the headlights glaring, forcing me to squint.

As I stood there, squinting from the bright headlights, a figure emerged from the car. He was tall, with chiseled features and piercing eyes that seemed to bore into my soul. His eyes were an unsettling familiar, yet I couldn't quite place them. His dark hair was perfectly styled, and his tailored suit screamed wealth and sophistication.

As he approached me, a look of concern etched on his face, I felt a sense of trepidation wash over me. Who was this stranger, and why was he being so kind to me?

"Blossom?" he asked, his voice low and smooth, as if he wasn't quite sure if that was my name.

I nodded warily, my eyes slowly giving out as my body began to crumble, still trying to process what was happening.

He smiled, and his eyes crinkled at the corners. "You're bleeding," he said, his voice filled with concern. "Let me help you."

He immediately swept me up into his arms, and I felt a rush of surprise. No one had ever picked me up like that before, except maybe Vincent.

As he carried me back to the car, I couldn't help but steal glances at his face. There was something about him that seemed... familiar. But I couldn't quite put my finger on it.

He deposited me gently into the passenger seat, and I felt a surge of gratitude towards this stranger. Who was he, and why was he being so kind to me?

As he got into the driver's seat, I caught another glimpse of his eyes, and my heart skipped a beat. Those eyes... they were hauntingly familiar. But I still couldn't quite place them.

Before I could grasp another thought, my body betrayed me...

****

A few moments later, I regained consciousness to the sunlight breaking through. Turning to the front seat, I saw the same man at the wheel. I didn't fully trust him, yet he offered me help.

My hand was still bleeding, but he had managed to stem the flow somewhat.

My head was spinning, and my eyelids felt heavy; I was on the verge of drifting off again.

I couldn't allow myself to lose consciousness without letting Vincent know where I was.

"Could you please pass me your phone? I need to make a call," I requested from the driver.

"Of course!" He picked it up and handed it to me.

His kindness felt eerie to some extent, yet I genuinely needed his assistance.

"Thank you," I replied.

*Oh no! I don't have Vincent's number.* Instantly, I thought of Lily's and dialed it.

"I'm pulling over here so whoever you're calling can pick you up," the driver indicated.

"Thanks, but I'm curious about why someone like you is helping me," I inquired, not that I was complaining.

He simply smiled.

As I lifted my leg, a sharp pinching sensation caught my attention, revealing a small red blinking device attached to me.

*Oh no, they friggin put a tracker on me!*

At that moment, Lily answered the call.

"Hello? Who is this?" she asked, her voice quivering.

"It's Blossom," I replied, my voice unsteady as I struggled to stay awake.

"Blossom!!" Lily shouted.

I could hear voices in the background, and I suspected she switched the call to speaker.

"Are you okay? Tell us where you are," Vincent's tense voice rang through the phone.

"Just give me a second," I responded.

I quickly turned to the man beside me and inquired about our location.

"The location is: Pineview Rest Stop – a small, rural stop off Highway 271, near County Road 17. Please hurry, Nathan's gang is after me. I'm losing blood fast and might pass out again," I explained.

"Okay, we'll be there shortly. Just hold tight," Vincent reassured me.

"I'll try my best " I remarked before hanging up the phone, only to lose consciousness yet again.