Captured Heart

by Angelica Siren

  The one called Vic tightened the gag around my mouth even more, to the point where I could feel it cutting into my lips and the discomfort was such that I didn't even consider screaming. They pushed me out the door of the apartment and down the stairs towards the front door. I was still wearing light clothes and didn't even have shoes on. My phone was still sitting on the bed, seemingly a thousand miles away. I was too shocked to even be incredulous that something like this was happening to me. The danger that seemed to surround the Druids Motorcycle Club had finally caught up with me. I sometimes worried that the violence would take Ronan from me, but somehow I never worried for myself. I was just an innocent bystander, after all. Apparently I was far more than that in this war.

  The older one pushed open the front door of the apartment and they hurried me towards a large brown van that was parked on the street. I was thrown into the back and landed hard on the metal floor. I groaned from the impact and rolled off of the lump in the metal that had impacted with my back. I pushed myself against the wheel well and, with nothing else to do, I sobbed. I wish I could say I had put up a great fight and they'd learned not to mess with me, but I was a wreck. I'd never even been mugged before, and that's saying something when you live your life in Baltimore. Being a victim of this kind of thing was far beyond anything I'd come across in my life. I just prayed that I was right that these men were the other side in the conflict Ronan had come to Belfast to fight on his father's behalf. If they weren't then I didn't know what I was in for. I might never see Ronan again. I might be dead or worse before nightfall. I laid my head against the floor of the van as the engine started and tears flowed from my eyes. I sobbed quietly against my gag, trying my best not to choke on my own tears.

  We drove for 20 minutes and I could barely make out quiet words of conversation between the two men who had abducted me. They'd been talking together about something, but it wasn't until long minutes had passed that I realized I should be listening in. When you're safe and comfortable, you might think of how you'd act in a situation like this but you can't really know until it happens. Everybody thinks they'd be vigilant and remember everything, but the truth is that you're so terrified that memories just don't stick. I didn't know where we were going and I only knew the time because I'd checked my phone right before they took me and there was a lit-up clock on the van's dashboard. Wherever they had taken me, it wasn't far.

  The van stopped and they each got out without sparing a glance back for me. I leaned upward and tried to get a look out the window but couldn't see anything other than that we were still in the city. I considered yelling but between the gag and the van, I doubted we'd be so surrounded by people that anyone would hear me screaming. Better to save my energy, I thought. If I was going to get out of this, I had to keep my wits about me. I couldn't just could on things to work out fine in the end. This was a whole new kind of danger - the kind I'd never experienced before. If I wasn't careful, everything I knew could be over in an instant.

  I waited for long minutes in the back of the van. The slow tick of the minutes on the dashboard clock was my only companion. Had they left me here for good? For all I knew, they'd abandoned the van in a junk yard and I was going to lay here until I starved to death. I could hear traffic nearby but that was meaningless. I didn't know this city and I couldn't begin to guess at my location. I slowed my rapid breathing and tried to calm down as best I could. If I was going to survive this, I had to stop myself from freaking out. I thought about Lila and her yoga. Then I thought about her lying on the floor of the apartment. It would be hours before Darren came home from work and probably even longer before Ronan returned to the apartment. As frightened as I was for my own predicament I was just as scared for Lila.

  I heard the back door of the van being opened and tried to clear my head. The doors swung open and sunlight poured in, momentarily blinding me. I could make out two silhouetted figures in the light that I presumed to be my captors. They stood there looking at me for just a moment before reaching down and dragging me from the van. I put my feet onto the ground but my legs were wobbly and if they hadn't been there holding me stead I probably would have been unable to stand.

  "Come on," the older one said to me, "We're going inside."

  They led me towards a large industrial building that the van was parked beside. Now that I could see, I looked around to get my bearings, but it was useless as I suspected. There was a street with cars on it and a number of brick buildings around, but that didn't differentiate this place from anywhere else in Belfast particularly. I was lost and alone and I might not even be able to find my way back if I were to somehow escape.

  They pushed me inside the building, which turned out to be an old factory long since stripped of anything of value. Now it was just a large space with a smattering of broken bottles and old newspapers strewn about. The smell of old moisture was thick in the air and I could imagine that whoever owned the place - if anyone actually did - hadn't paid it any attention in decades at the most recent. Not far from the doors we came in there was a small table with a few chairs around it. The younger one went ahead and sat in one of the chairs while the older one pushed me over to a support beam.

  "Sit here and shut up," he told me.

  I looked at him and didn't resist his simple command. Sitting quietly was about the most comfortable thing I could expect in this situation and I wasn't about to fight him with my hands tied behind my back. I slid myself down against the beam and he nodded before stepping over to the table.

  From that moment on, neither of them seemed to pay me much attention. I was in their field of vision at all times, so I couldn't exactly try anything, but at least they seemed to be ignoring me.

  "How long do we have to stay here?" the young one asked.

  "Until they call," the older one responded, "They should have delivered the message to that mick bastard by now. Then we'll find out just what he's made of. If he's smart, he'll cut ties and get out of town. If not... well, we'll just see."

  I didn't like the sound of that. It became clear that the bastard they were talking about was Ronan or possibly his father. They'd already delivered a ransom demand of some kind. It sounded like the price of my safety was for Ronan to leave Belfast. I couldn't believe this had happened. Bad enough that I was being held captive by these creeps, but my presence here in Belfast was going to ruin everything for the Druids. I wasn't quite at the point of commitment to the club that I would value the fight between them and the Americans more than my own well-being, but it still bothered me. If I'd just stayed back in Dublin, this wouldn't have happened. Now Lila might be dead and I could be just as screwed. If Ronan decided to leave though, he'd be giving up on the club and his father. Even the other Druids from Dublin would lose respect for him if he backed down in a situation like this. But what would happen if he didn't? What would happen to me?

  When you imagine hostage situations like this and the way they're portrayed in movies, the kidnappers are always sitting around playing cards with the captive. Things weren't like that in the factory at all. For one thing, a deck of cards had given way to kidnappers who had smartphones. Even the older one spent his time reading things off his phone while younger one played a game with himself. I had no such way of entertaining myself. Instead, I spent the time counting the support pillars and memorizing the faces of my captors. If I did get out of here alive, even if it meant Ronan had to run back to Dublin with his tail between his legs, I knew he'd want vengeance. That kept me going. As long as I could remember, these two would never escape the Druids. I could tell from their attire that they were bikers as well, but still they seemed to ignore the guaranteed consequences of an action like this. War is war, but kidnapping the girlfriend of a rival club leader is a good way to earn a lot of enemies for life.

  Enough time passed that my immediate terror at my surroundings and my situation had passed and I was left with only mild fright and increased awareness of the basic needs of my body. I hadn't eaten since br
eakfast with Ronan and I was thirsty as well. I thought about trying to get my captor's attention despite the gag that was still stretched across my mouth, but every time I was about to mount an attempt, they'd say something or do something that made me return to cowering against my support beam. The more I heard of them, the less I thought they would be taking me for burgers any time soon.

  "This is bullshit," the younger one said, motioning to me. "I don't like sitting here with her at all. What if they come to get her?"

  "Shut up," the older one scolded him, "It's only been an hour. They don't know where we are. Now sit down and shut up."

  "Fuck you, Nitty," the younger one said. I didn't fail to take note that I now had names for both of the men who had captured me. I didn't think I'd have any problem remembering them considering the circumstances. My eyes narrowed as I listened closely to their conversation, hoping they'd drop another clue as to our location or something else I could use to my benefit.

  Nitty glowered at Vic. "This is the job we've got so this is the job we're going to do," he told the younger man. "If you don't like it... no, fuck that. If you don't like it, too bad. You're going to sit here and do it anyway because I'm sure as shit not doing it alone."

  The way they were bickering with each other wasn't exactly useful to me as their captive, but it was at least nice to know they weren't enjoying themselves. I didn't trick myself into thinking I could actually turn them against each other. Nobody in their position was actually so dumb that they'd risk everything because a bound and gagged captive tried to play on their insecurities. I was just glad that at least one of them was worried about Ronan. I sure would be if I were them. I closed my eyes and imagined the fury that my man would have been experiencing just then. The thought that he might be fleeing town and leaving me to my fate wasn't a realistic fear at all. If it had been so long without a word, it could only mean one thing in my mind - Ronan was coming.

  Another hour passed without much conversation between Vic and Nitty. I did gather from the conversation that the two of them were working as mercenaries of a sort. Their jackets didn't bear any insignia and I got the feeling that though they might have been members of some club at one time or another, they were working as free agents now. Nitty kept referring to his time "back in the desert" though I couldn't think of what he was referring to. He didn't seem the sort of person who had spent much time in the Sahara or the Outback. Wherever he'd come from, I didn't like to imagine the circumstances that had brought him to this place - kidnapping innocent women on the orders of some warlord. The dangerous and frightening lives these people had been living had been going on like this for decades - right under the noses of a population that never noticed them. I'd never given had two consecutive thoughts about motorcycle gangs in my whole life before I met the Druids. I'd always known there were people out there who spent their lives outside the law, but nothing like this. The reality of my situation was hard to come to grips with. Kidnapping and ransoms and that sort of thing happened in movies, not real life. I was never prepared to survive in this kind of situation and I didn't know anyone else from back in Baltimore who might have been.

  "Screw this," Vic said suddenly, standing up from the table. "I'm going to go get some food."

  I could tell that even Nitty was beginning to become frustrated with this job. Earlier I might have expected him to repeat his frequently uttered catch phrase, "shut up" and tell the other man to sit down, but now even he was feeling the pressure.

  "Yeah, alright," he said, "Go get some burgers. We'll make that bastard McAndrews pay for it when we get back."

  "Damn straight," Vic said, finally pleased that his notion of the way their afternoon should be progressing was being taken seriously.

  "And get something for her too," Nitty said as the other man headed for the door. Vic nodded and vanished through the heavy metal door we'd come in by. Nitty looked over to me. His face was, for that one moment, something like sincere. I don't think it was compassion that was guiding him so much as basic human understanding of things like hunger, but whatever it was I was glad for it. That was the first time he'd directly acknowledged my presence ever since we arrived at the factory. All the same, it was short lived. He turned his face back to whatever he was reading on his phone and I went back to counting the pillars.

  Time passed and before long I heard the van pull up outside the factory. My stomach immediately started rumbling. I didn't realize just how hungry I had become until there was a real prospect of getting something to eat. I straightened myself up against my support beam, trying to look as much like the perfect captive as possible, hoping they wouldn't forget about me in the moment. Nitty glanced up at the door when he heard the van but went back to his phone.

  The door opened and I saw Vic come through carrying two large white paper bags. I started salivating at the sight of them. Nitty looked up as well. Vic took two steps inside the door, saying "Alright, alright, alright - I've got burgers and -" BANG

  He was cut off in mid-sentence, falling forward onto the floor of the factory and taking those burgers down with him. My eyes went wide and I started gasping for breath against my gag. Nitty dropped his phone and reached behind his back for his gun, which was stowed in his belt. He barely had enough time to get it out and to step over towards me before the light from outside was obscured by shadowy figures entering the factory.

  Nitty grabbed me hard in one arm and put the barrel of his gun against my temple. Before the threat of violence had been implied, but now it was extremely real. I saw three people moving through the shadows around the door of the factory. They stepped around Vic's body and one of them bent down to inspect him.

  "Cat?" the one in the front said. His face came into view. It was Ronan. Tears immediately began pouring from my eyes. I couldn't believe it. He'd come to find me. All of the words we'd exchanged - all of the promises to love and protect one another - they'd just been words up until this point. Now it was something much greater. I don't know how he found me, but he had. My knight in shining armor had arrived at last.

  "I think ye'd best be letting the girl go, yank," he said, stepping into the light of the factory. In his hand was the gun he often carried but, as far as I had seen, rarely had cause to discharge. I don't know if he'd been the one who took down Vic, but part of me hoped it wasn't. As happy as I was to have him arrive when he did, part of me was still resistant to the idea that the man I loved was capable of that kind of violence - even if the reality of the situation made that an extremely unlikely hope. Beside him was his father Terry, also holding a gun out at Nitty. When he stood up from Vic's body, I recognized that the third man was Garret. When I saw him I smiled widely. As happy as I was to see Ronan, the sight of Garret made me think of his old lady, Daisy, back home, and the warm welcome she'd give me when she saw me. I was sure she'd reprimand Ronan for ever letting me out of his sight.

  I could feel Nitty's arm shaking as he held me. His grip was not nearly so vise-like as it had been back at Darren and Lila's apartment. The conviction had gone out of his muscles in the face of three-to-one odds. Still, his gun was held tight against the side of my head and I knew that one small motion could end my life before I had the chance to say a word.

  "Let her go," Garret said, raising his gun at Nitty. "Ye don't want this boy. If ye pull that trigger, ye'll know pain unlike anything ye've ever imagined."

  Garret was the only one there who might have gotten away with calling Nitty "boy". Though Terry was older, he carried himself like a young man. Garret had the kind of authority that only comes from experience and I hoped that would translate into the kind of suggestion Nitty couldn't ignore. I felt his arm get tense and I gasped, inaudibly, beneath my gag. For a brief moment I thought to myself that this was it. But then the moment passed. His grip around my body relaxed and the gun slipped away from my temple. He swung it down in a slow motion and casually tossed it to the floor, pushing me towards Ronan as he did so.

  I took a few short, stum
bling steps towards Ronan and he caught me in his arms, holding me tighter than ever before. Even with how sore I was from my hours of captivity, it was the best feeling I'd ever known. Garret and Terry still had their guns drawn on Nitty. Ronan's attention was elsewhere now. He pulled the gag down past my chin and started to say a word but before he could, I kissed him. That was all that needed to be said.

  "So what'll we do with the yank, here," Garret asked. Ronan was still holding me tight, watching Nitty out of the corner of his eye. Terry stepped forwards to take charge of the situation.

  "I'll take care of it," Terry said. "Stick around, Garret. Ronan, get her out of here." I wasn't used to seeing Ronan ordered around like that, and I knew that he hated having his father making so much as a suggestion as to what he should be doing at any given moment, but right then I knew it was the best advice possible. If Ronan had stayed in that room one second longer, I don't think anyone would have been able to stop him from tearing that man limb from limb. Maybe he deserved it. I can't say. But I know one thing - I didn't want Ronan to carry the memory of what he'd done that day with anything less than pride. Rescuing me was something to feel good about. Whatever he had done after I was safe... that would be a different story.