Chapter 7

I bucked and thrashed to break free of my kidnapper’s iron grip, but it was useless. Whoever he was, his strength exceeded my own and all I could do was scream bloody murder as he dragged me deep into the forest.

No one would know where I was. I dropped my backpack on the lawn. My camera was still dangling from the cord around my neck, weighing me down and biting into my nape. My terrified screams turned to desperate sobs. At one point, a hand pressed down so hard over my mouth that I thought I might pass out. I could scarcely see a thing as he pulled me through the thicket. All I could hear was ragged breathing and the sound of heavy footsteps beating on the ground — until the bickering started.

“What part of ‘let me handle it’ did not sink into your thick skull?” an angry voice roared.

“Can we not discuss this now? I'm kind of busy here, in case you haven’t noticed,” the guy holding me answered him.

“Go easy on her, she still needs to breathe,” a raspy voice snapped.

There are three of them.

“Careful. You’re gonna hurt her,” a softer voice spoke.

Okay, so that makes four.

He seemed concerned about my welfare. That surprised me. No, wait! What if they need me alive for whatever horrors they have in store for me? On second thought, let him suffocate me now.

I thrashed around on his shoulder, making as much noise as I could.

“She’s a screamer. They’ll hear her for miles around. You don’t want the bear on our tails,” another man spoke, his voice laced with humor.

Bear? There are bears here too.

My cry for help came out like a garbled noise. I struggled against my captor, but he was built like a mountain of muscle.

“Here, use this to gag her with.” I heard fabric tearing, then they shoved cloth between my lips.

The material bit into the corners of my mouth as they tied a knot at the back of my head.

“Mmph,” I tried to shout out for help again, but the gag muffled my cries.

“Give her to me. I’ll carry her for a while. I don’t trust that you won’t injure her any more than you already have,” the guy with the raspy voice muttered sarcastically.

“I won’t hurt her,” my kidnapper protested, offended by the remark.

“I said give her to me, it’s my turn!” He swapped me into the other guy’s arms and my stomach collided with another rock-hard shoulder.

We gathered speed, and I bounced around like a rag doll. He hopped, skipped, and jumped along the forest floor. Every rough jolt felt like a punch in the stomach. I made another attempt to scream and wriggle free, only to feel a gigantic hand slap down across my backside, stinging my skin.

“Stop it. You’ll fall and hurt yourself,” the man with the stern tone berated me. “Hold her steady or give her to me.”

“She's high-spirited. Just what we need to keep us in check,” a guy with a softer voice spoke. He seemed more benign than the others.

“Speak for yourself. She will obey us, or I will punish her,” the dominant guy threatened.

“Can you smell that? She enjoyed having her ass slapped. I may have to put her over my knee later,” my kidnapper mentioned. He ran alongside us at my right, but all I could make out were his muscular legs and bare feet.

“Not before I do, you won’t,” the guy with the raspy tone replied.

My kidnapper chortled. “Do you hear that, Isobelle? Your ass is ours.”

My mind was filled with dread at the threat of being punished. Did they mean tortured? I knew I was in serious trouble. They were dragging me farther into the forest with no way of calling for help.

The men squabble about sharing me, transferring me from one pair of arms to the other. All sense of time evaporated from my mind, and I wondered how long it would take for someone to notice I was missing. They were men, not boys, and they were taking me somewhere in the forest. I didn’t catch any of their names, but they seemed to know mine. The way they were talking, it was as if they had been expecting me for a while.

“I hope she likes how we’ve decorated the cabin,” the guy with the softer tone commented.

What? Cabin? Oh no. My mind flooded with dread.

“We know she likes green, so she’ll love it. I don’t know about you, guys, but I can’t get enough of her scent — honey and vanilla. It’s driving me insane … I can feel the sparks running down to my —” my kidnapper remarked.

“For once, can you not think about that and focus on plan B considering you screwed up plan A,” the assertive guy snapped. “Thanks to your idiocy, we now have to improvise.”

My heart sank as I realized what was happening to me. I was being kidnapped by the four men in the woods. My blood ran cold as I recalled the story Teresa told me, earlier today. The part where the men in the woods were supposed to hunt naked. I slid my palm against my captive’s lower back, and I felt nothing but naked skin. A little lower and I made a full-on smack against his bare backside.

“Careful or I’ll return the favor,” he warned me.

“Hmmm.” The muffled words left my mouth. What I tried to say was, “Let me go, you fucking perverts.” This was not the sexy fantasy I had in mind. Who in their right mind would get off on being kidnapped by a bunch of naked guys?

What if Teresa is right? They might bring me back unscathed.

Yeah, and pigs might fly.

With any luck, they would realize their mistake and would take me back to the guest house. I tried to mumble a coherent plea, but the taut rag hampered my speech. If they would just stop bickering like a flock of seagulls fighting over scraps and allow me to speak, I could beg them for mercy. I wasn’t a complete twat. I could be reasonable. If they would just turn around and bring me back, I wouldn’t press charges. We could brush this off as a prank and laugh about this over drinks. My treat.

“Here we are, Isobelle, home sweet home,” the one holding me announced as he carried me over the threshold of a wooden hut.

It was too dark to see inside it. I couldn’t tell what the room looked like, especially from my upside-down angle.

The one time I traveled alone, I was kidnapped on my second night.

I waited with trepidation in the pitch-black darkness as they all bickered among themselves. It was some ridiculous rant over whose responsibility it was to have kept the fire burning. I felt myself being pulled into a tight embrace before finding myself sitting on someone’s bare lap.

Didn’t they own any rope so that they could tie me to a chair like regular kidnappers? Was it necessary for me to have to sit on a stranger’s lap and feel his cock swelling beneath me?

The first flicker of firelight brought the cabin into view, and I could finally see the faces of my captors. I had to blink twice for my eyes to adjust, but as soon as I could see clearly, my eyes darted all over the place. It was a real log cabin, not some dingy hut in the woods. The wooden furniture matched, and the sage green sofa complimented the curtains. As I glanced around, I didn’t spot anything I didn’t like. But that didn’t ease my anxiety. These guys still kidnapped me, no matter how impressive my prison was.

I glanced up into the faces of three hot men with more muscles than I could count, their skin naturally tanned from working outdoors in the sun or living like naturists — who knows? I’m guessing they spend their days chopping wood, logging, and hiking up mountains because no one could look that fit and not work out. I spared a hesitant glance over my shoulder, seeing the fourth bloke cringing sheepishly. He was just as handsome as the others. Four glorious sights to behold, and all stark-bollock-naked. Now that I could move my arms, I tugged the gag from my mouth and let it drop around my neck. My lips mashed together to wet my withered tongue.

I scrunch my eyes shut. “Please, for the love of God, can you put on some pants?” I begged, hating how my eyes were being drawn to their swinging appendages.

I don’t want to go straight to Hell when they murder me.

“As the lady wishes,” I heard one of them say. “Promise that you won’t try to run away if I let go of you?” the guy sitting beneath me asked.

My nostrils flared with indignation. “I promise,” I lied.

The second he released me, I bolted for the door. My fingertips grazed the handle before the guy who first kidnapped me, pounced on me.

“You just told a straight-up lie. You’re just asking for trouble,” he rasped into my ear in a warning tone.

I tried to butt-bounce him in the dick to make him release me, but that didn’t work. If anything, he seemed to like it rough.

“Just let me go!” I cried at this point. “I promise I won’t tell anyone about this. I don’t want any trouble. I just want to go home.” And by ‘home’ I meant back to London.

“Shh! It’s okay. Don’t cry. Nobody’s going to hurt you, I promise,” he reassured me, for all the good it did.

I bet they say that to all their victims.