Beth Ann's word: Power-The ability or official capacity to exercise control; authority

PROLOGUE

From the moment they had first thrown the bag over my head and thrown me in the trunk, I had lost all sense of time. The continual stretches of blackouts and silence, followed by the blinding light were messing with my internal clock. Normal life now seemed as if it had taken place years ago, instead of hours. The darkness that engulfed me seemed almost suffocating. I tried moving my legs and couldn't even make out the outline of my body. In the quiet and momentary reprieve, I decided to try and take stock of the injuries. I winced as I tried to stretch my torso. The first few blows had come to the stomach and sides, and at the very least they had bruised some ribs. I could feel the blood on my face. It was warm and sticky and seemed to start at the hairline, running in two different streams. One between the eyes, and one down the left temple. My right eye felt like it wasn't opening all the way. Must be swollen. My hands and feet throbbed. I longed to stretch out my legs, tied to the chair which they had restrained me to hours ago. Maybe. Who knows how long it's been now, I thought to myself. Who were these people? How was this even happening? They clearly weren't keeping me for ransom. First and foremost no one in my life would have the money and secondly they had done nothing since they took me but beat me senseless and ask repeatedly who I worked for. Followed by the endless questions about where "it" was.

I closed my eyes and tried to force myself to wake up. Maybe this was just a nightmare. Possibly I was still at the University library and had fallen asleep studying. I'd done that countless times, this could be one of them. Wake up! Wake up! Please! I begged with my mind over and over.

Whatever room this was, it had a squeaky door. My heart started to race at the sound that the captors were back. In all my life I had never felt so utterly helpless and vulnerable. How could I convince them I didn't have what they wanted? On the other hand maybe I should give them an indication I was actually useful. Once they had what they needed, I had serious doubts they would just drop me back off at the house. I was a dead man either way.
The extreme brightness of the light was clearly intended to be painful. My entire head ached with the sudden brilliance that flooded the room. If the darkness was so immense that you couldn't even see a hand in front of your face, the light that now filled the room left one with the sense that you could now see too much. My legs, the table next to me, the walls around me, seemed to glow in a neon light as my pupils struggled desperately to acclimate. I had never done drugs, but if I had to guess what an acid trip was like, I'd wager this wasn't far off. The room seemed to pulsate and throb around me like I was trapped in a giant heart. I focused my good eye on a fixed point in the wall ahead of me, willing the room to stop moving. My stomach lurched with the disorientation and I fought down the bile that churned in my gut.

"Please." I said through gritted teeth.

"I'm sorry, you'll have to speak up son." said the man who now stood over me. His head shaved bald, his arms Cris crossed over his chest. He looked like a very unfriendly version of Mr. Clean.

"Please," I said again, my strong focus bringing the room to a halt. I gathered strength as the nausea subsided and the pain in my head eased a bit.

"If I knew what you were after, I would give it to you. I have no loyalties to anything or anyone. My name is Scott Daniels. I attend NYU," I cleared my throat, trying to convey more strength than I felt. "I am a student and I work part time for a bicycle messenger service! What could I possibly have that you want?! Do some digging, I'm not who you think I am--"

I was cut off by a harsh slap across the head. Mr. Clean was clearly losing patience, and I could see a more wild look in his eye as he crouched down to eye level. He rested his hands on his knees and got within inches of my face.
"Scott Daniels. Do you think this is an extreme case of identity theft? Apparently we've given you the impression that this is some two bit horse and pony show that we're running here. Some petty street thugs who have somehow bungled the job? Truly, my apologies for your misconceptions." Baldy almost smiled at that, but decided against it. My captor, one of them anyway, pulled a free chair out from the metal table and sat down across from me. He crossed his extremely muscled arms back across his body and rested his right ankle on his left knee. There were a few minutes of silence as he seemed to scrutinize me. I could almost see the mind wheels turning as I watched him reach some conclusion in his mind. I wasn't sure if that was going to be a good thing. In fact, I highly doubted it.

"We know who you are Mr. Daniels. Probably better than you do I'd chance to say. Scott Jeffrey Daniels, 21, son of Andrea and Jeffrey Daniels. You have a younger brother. Riley. Fourteen. Leslie, Riley's twin-"
At the sound of this ridiculous brute saying her name I now wanted to hurt him. I'd been tortured for hours, and only now, truly desired to break my bindings and wail on this guy until he just stopped talking. The captor seemed to sense my sudden distress and instantly seemed encouraged by it.
"Leslie Marie Daniels. Died nine years ago. Age five, car crash." He paused watching me with interest before continuing."I have streets you've lived on and names of elementary school teachers, would you like me to continue?"
I didn't know how to kill someone with my eyes, but I was trying my darnedest.
"How about this. Your daddy bailed on you nine years ago and your mom's a drunk. Whatever abandonment issues you have, you hide them well. You do your best as the dutiful eldest son to pay the bills and take care of your brother. What will they do without you Scott? Guess Riley will have to step up and be the man of the house. Not surprising. That seems to be the Daniels' male legacy."
"You know nothing about us. Nothing!" I shouted at him fed up with this whole thing.
"I know that the men in your family seem to inevitably get in over their heads and the people around them are the ones that pay for their carelessness!" He shouted back, his face inches from mine, slamming his fist on the table next to me.
"What? Who pays, what are you talking about?" He had lost me. My dad had left us because he was a coward. Leslie's death had torn the family apart and he couldn't handle the aftermath. Mom thought she could mend a broken heart with whatever was at the bottom of a Jack Daniels bottle, but at least she had stayed. She'd tried. If Riley was left alone, it'd be because these idiots killed me for no reason. My brain seemed to be working a million miles a minute, and I was still staring at him with a somewhat dazed expression on my face when the door opened again. When I saw who was dragged through it, my heart fell to my knees. Autumn.
"We've tried reasoning with you," baldy indicated to my bruised and bloody face with an expression like we were just a couple of salesmen who'd been haggling over price. "But you seem to have no real sense of self preservation. Maybe if someone else's life was on the line, you'd see things a bit more clearly." He gave me a sneer that I was fairly certain passed for a smile with him.
"You're a rescuer, aren't you Mr. Daniels. It's what you do. Well, guess what? You get another chance to play hero."
The man who had brought Autumn in, had her by the hair with one hand and her arm pulled back behind her, at what seemed a painful angle, with the other. Roughly he pushed her forward and shoved her in front of me, her auburn hair tickling my face. "Please," she whimpered to me and the sound of it shattered my heart in an instant. "Whatever you have that they need, I beg you. Give it to them. We can have a life when this is over. They say they'll let us go and I believe they wil--"the second thug yanked her back violently at that and pulled her back towards the door. "No!! Wait! Please! She isn't apart of this, I'm trying to give you what you want, I just don't know what it is! Please, hit me some more, just leave her out of this!" I could hear the strain of desperation in my voice. The words cut off by the sound of the door closing. Autumn was gone.
Baldy pulled his chair so close that our knees touched when he sat down again. "So. Hero." he looked at me with a mixture of mocking and contempt. "This is it. No more chances. No more torture. You tell us what you know, or Autumn dies. Plain and simple. If that doesn't motivate you, we have two more people in your life that may move you to do the right thing. The body count is entirely up to you."
I looked at the door with an ache in my chest. I felt a rage brew up inside of me like a windstorm. I felt it circling in my chest, spreading quickly and chaotically throughout my limbs, finally swirling up into my head. They were trying to manipulate me with no real intention of following through on their word. I turned my gaze on my captor and felt that my face was still scrunched up in animosity.Well. I thought, making a conscience effort to relax my features, and put on an air of defeat. Two could play at that game.