Back & Forth | Book 1 of Back & Forth Series
Two: Restless

Questions still linger in my mind. Just like what one of them said earlier, their boss will be the one who determines my fate. Now everyone leaves my burning questions unanswered. Anxiety builds in my body at the uncertainty of my future. I don’t know where they’ll take me and what will happen to me next and it scares me a bit. I don’t mind death but if I end up suffering for the rest of my life, that’s an issue. The only way out of such situation is to actually kill myself.

Most of the actual kidnapping stories I’ve read are either about people being sold as a sex slave or for the sole purpose of harvesting and selling the victims’ organs in the black market. So, which group will I belong? The latter or the former? If choosing my own fate is an option, the latter would be much more preferable. I’ll be dead after the traffickers collected my organs. No need to suffer physically and mentally for the rest of my life. Being a sex slave would be the absolute opposite. I’ll suffer by being someone’s living sex doll. I’ll be nothing but someone’s little toy. If I take what the man said earlier into account, chances are I’ll be someone’s sex slave, unfortunately. That sucks. Literally. I will literally suck someone’s dick.

Shit. Am I going to end up sucking an old man’s dick for the rest of my life? Hell no. Hell fucking no. Absolutely not. God, please no. Please don’t let that happen. I’d rather take my own life than living in such misery.

The toll road ahead of us is quite empty, not much cars in sight. We cruise slightly under the maximum speed limit. Our car swerves to the other lane and increases its speed each time we have a slower car in our way. The same thing keeps happening on repeat whenever we come across slow-moving vehicles.

My eyes are fixed on the road in front of us. There’s nothing else I can do other than staring at the cars. I can’t move much since I’m seated in the middle seat. What makes this even worse is I’m being sandwiched between two tall and muscular men that leave little to none personal space. Feeling awkward is truly an understatement.

Everyone has been nothing but silence. The muffled roar of the car engine is the only sound that accompanies us. As boredom begins to creep up, I think of something else to do. Perhaps I can look at the men to get rid of it.

The man on my right stares out the window, a rigid look on his face. My blatant staring seems to go unnoticed by him, lost in his own thoughts. Paying attention to his surroundings is the last thing on his mind.

I observe the man’s features. He has dirty blond hair is short and straight. His pair of light-brown coloured eyes resemble the colour of honey, as cliche as it sounds. The colour of his skin seems to be slightly tanned, perhaps the result of staying under the tropical sun of this country. No sign of facial hair on his face. I guess he shaves his face often from the looks of it. The lack of aging sign such as wrinkles tells me he’s younger than the others, probably around my age but older.

I continue to stare at him. This time, I’m wondering about the thoughts he currently has in his mind. He looks so serious and tense by how his jaw is clenching and ticking and his deadly gaze. He might be thinking of something important, at least to him and his life. Perhaps it’s about someone who he just punched or shot to death yesterday? Or maybe it’s the memory of his last hookup that still traumatised him somehow?

Earlier, the man in sunglasses and the man on my left spoke in Italian. At least that’s what I think so. From that conversation, the could be Italians, except the driver. The dude seems to be from here, unlike the others who look foreign. Perhaps he’ll only stay around for the ride. For that reason, I won’t pay him no mind. I want to focus on the others. I can probably get some information just by staring at them.

An interesting idea pops in my head. What if I name the three guys with Italian names? Sounds good to me. It’ll keep me away from boredom for a bit. I’ll name them based on their looks or whatever Italian names that appear in my mind. For the man on my right, I’m going to call him Sebastiano. Yep. That’s it. I think the name suits him perfectly.

Sebastiano already sending me a death glare at me when I snap out of my thoughts. The intensity of his gaze causing me to shrink in my seat, staring at him with hidden fear.

Damn, he looks scary. Despite his age, he definitely takes his role of being a kidnapper seriously. Way seriously than others. Perhaps it’s because he wants to get on the boss’s good side. I’m not sure. I’m just making things up but it could be true.

“What are you looking at?” Sebastiano snaps, still glaring at me.

Whoa. Chill, dude. Why so hostile? Why does a stare get you so worked up like that?

“You have a little something on your face,” I say with an awkward grin as I point at the imaginary stain on Sebastiano’s face. Now my gaze is back in the road ahead of us. I take a sneaky glance at Sebastiano and replace him rubbing on his face. The sight makes me press my lips together as I suppresses my laughter from escaping me. After a realisation hits Sebastiano, he lets out an exasperated sigh. He definitely sounds annoyed that he got played. That’s his fault for trusting a stranger.

My attention is now fixed on the man at my left. I silently scan his face as he stares right outside the window. There’s a quite long scar on the right side of his forehead near his hairline. It’s slightly hidden under his short brown hair. His hair looks pretty straight at the moment because of how short it is. However, by how voluminous his hair is, it might actually be wavy. Slightly.

Moving to his eyes, I see a pair of hazel eyes adorned with speck of green. I admit his eye colour is pretty, almost like a bush with no flower. It’s a weird analogy but they kinda do look like it. Anyway, let’s continue to his other features. For his complexion, he has medium skin tone. His face is clear of any facial hair. Clean-shaven just like Sebastiano.

Hmm, what should I call him? I’ll call him Pietro.

I take my eyes off him, letting him continue to drown in his own thoughts. The driver gazing at me through the rear view mirror catches me off guard. I shoot him a glare once I’ve regained my composure. In return, I get the same glare from him.

What the fuck does this dude want? Why is he staring at me?

“Eyes on the road, man. Are you trying to kill us?” I ask and the driver quickly shifts his eyes to the road again.

“Not that I mind,” I add quickly as I shrug.

Pairs of eyes fall on me immediately. The scowl on the faces of the two men on each of my side shows their annoyance at me. I ignore them and continue to watch the road in front of me. I feel their gazes leave me and now I’m left to my own business again. The driver steals a glance at my way but instantly looks away when our gazes meet. He’s probably curious on why these three Italian men are kidnapping me. Who am I? How important am I to be kidnapped by them? Well, I don’t fucking know either. I’m as confused as you are, sir.

The man on the front passenger seat has his complete and undivided focus on his phone screen. His rapid typing turns words into sentences. All in Italian. The paragraph is finally sent once he’s done typing it. His phone is now on his lap, screen facing down. I ignore his phone. It’s not like I’ll understand everything if I read the messages he send and receive. Let’s look at his face.

Confused, I furrow my eyebrows when I notice the man still has his sunglasses on. Why does he still have them on? The sky is turning darker and darker in minutes as the sun falls beyond the horizon. What’s the point of using sunglasses in the dark? It literally protects his eyes from nothing. Nothing! Well, unless he thinks the wind from the air conditioner is an enough threat to the safety of his eyes, then you do you, man.

The man’s phone ding. He shifts his focus back to his phone again, lips pressed into a thin line as he reads the paragraph of Italian words. I ignore the text, not understanding any of the words on display.

I now focus my attention to the man’s physical appearance. The man hair colour is dark brown, almost black. His slightly wavy hair is left tousled. The colour of his skin is almost identical to Pietro’s, slightly darker. Unfortunately, I can’t identify his eye colour yet considering how I’m seated behind him. The sunglasses don’t help either. They hinder my observation as they cover his eyes. There’s light stubble on the man’s face along his jawline, lower part of his cheeks, and above his lips, giving him the famous five o’clock shadow.

On to his name, I’m going to call him Luciano. That’s the first name that comes to mind when I look at him. So, Luciano it is. At least for now.

Now my eyes are back on the road, boredom begins to creep up on me again. The silence in the car is broken by the loud ringing of a phone. Luciano picks up the call, the phone is now placed against his right ear.

“Sì. Abbiamo lei,” Luciano says.

(Yes. We have her.)

I wonder what does that mean. I only know the translation to sì and lei but not the other word, abbiamo.

“Stiamo andando all'aeroporto,” Luciano responds.

(We’re on the way to the airport.)

Aeroporto. Huh? Oh. Huh?! Wait a damn minute. Are we going to the airport now? Dude. Where the fuck are they taking me? Are they going to fly me to Italy? Shit. This is insane. I guess I’m going to ignore his conversation now. I’d rather know nothing than knowing too much right now. Let whatever awaits me be a surprise. Knowing about what will to happen next just going to make me anxious.

The chorus of Different by Chris Grey suddenly plays in my head. I hum along to the song. My hands tap on my thighs to the beat of the song. What I’m doing doesn’t last long. I stop everything I do when I feel stares on me. I look back and forth between the two men next to me. Angry glares are sent on my way as I look back at them. From the look on their faces, having a bit of fun in the midst of silence and boredom is forbidden. What a killjoy. They’re kidnapping me so they better put up with whatever I’m doing. It’s their fault to pick me as their victim.

“What?” I ask. The two men at my sides only stare at me in silence. Their lack of response confuses me, causing me to furrow my eyebrows. With a blank look on his face, Sebastiano nods to the front of the car. Still in confusion, I turn my gaze to whatever he’s gesturing at.

My heart stops for a second. The cause of it is Luciano’s stare. The sleek phone is still up on his ear, but no words leave his mouth as he continues to stare at me in silence. He puts his index finger over his lips, silently telling me to shut the fuck up. The intimidating energy I’m getting from him causes my nervousness. I bet there’s also an angry glare behind those sunglasses.

Now I get it. Luciano wants me to stay quiet so he can focus on his call. I just remember he’s currently on the phone with someone. I guess it’s an important call so he needs his undivided attention and silence. Fine then. I’ll stay quiet. For now.

“Sorry,” I mouth. Luciano only stares at me, giving me one last look. The conversation continues as he replies whoever it is on the other line. With his gaze off me, I can finally let out a sigh of relief.

There’s something different about Luciano. Now that I notice it, I’m sensing that he’s the most important one out of all the men in this car. Seeing him on his phone most of the time making it look even more obvious. I can definitely say that he’s the leader of all the men in here.

My mind reminds me of where we’re currently headed. The airport. Anxiety builds up in me again. Fear of what might happen next occupy my mind. I bounce my legs out of nervousness, trying to get rid of my excess anxiety. Nothing can stop my restlessness now until my anxiety dies down. I don’t think it won’t happen anytime soon.

What is their boss going to do to me? Is he really going to turn me into his personal slut? Or worse, is he going to sell me to someone else? A brothel or strip club, perhaps? I think it’s only wishful thinking to even hope for the best out of my current situation.

Luciano is finally finished with his phone call. His phone is now back on his thigh. My anxiety doubles as every possibilities of my future fill my mind.

Was he just on the phone with his boss? What were they actually talking about? Fuck. Why am I even here? How did I end up with these men? I just want to die. Why should I live any longer if what will happen to me only cause me more suffering?

“Stop doing that shit and sit like a goddamn normal person,” Pietro says. My gaze is challenging and full of anger once our eyes meet in the darkness. Other than anxiety, now my fury is also coursing through my body. It’s not without reason that I’m angry. I’m pissed that they stopped me from my plan and won’t kill me either. Why should I stay with them if they won’t give me what I desire the most? I just want to die and that’s it. Even though it’s against God’s will somehow.

“If the normal you mean is sitting like a fucking statue, then hell. Fucking. No,” I say. My jaw tightens as I hold myself back from bursting with anger.

I continue to stare at the road. More cars come into view as we approach a busier road. The light from the street lamps above us illuminates the way to my unknown demise. Each second that passes us by getting me closer and closer to my misery. An inevitable suffering. The anger inside of me dissipates. Once again, I’m filled with nothing but anxiety.

My left leg is forced to stop moving by a hand on my knee. However, my right leg still moves with no hindrance. I turn to Pietro and replace him already glaring at me.

“I can’t control it,” I say.

It’s kinda true. At least for me. Restlessness can’t be really controlled because if I force myself to stop bouncing my legs, it starts to feel weird and mentally frustrating me. Unfortunately, my words don’t seem to convince Pietro enough by how he keeps shooting his annoyed glare in my way. His gaze averts over my shoulder. Another hand lands on my other knee and I know it’s Sebastiano.

What the fuck do they think they’re doing?

Furious, I remove their hands from my knees forcefully. Despite my anger, I still feel anxious, causing a persistent restlessness. I continue to bounce my legs, ignoring the annoyed glares coming from both of my sides. Their annoyance won’t stop me from doing what I need to do now. I’ll only stop when I’ve calmed down.

Who the hell do they think they are? I know they’re annoyed because I can’t stay still but that’s not a fucking reason to touch me without my fucking consent. Even when it’s a life-threatening situation, don’t fucking touch me because I’d rather die anyway.

“If you don’t stop doing that now, I have a better idea to stop it,” Pietro says.

“And that is?” I ask, curious of his idea.

A sinister grin makes its way to his face. The gun he holds up causing my eyes to widen. Taken aback, I move away from Pietro. My back hits Sebastiano in the process. I move away from Sebastiano, still keep my distance from Pietro.

“What the hell are you going to do with that? I know for sure you won’t shoot me with that,” I say.

In his previous statement, he said that he won’t kill me. They need me alive for their boss. So, what exactly his plan? I assume he’s thinking of hitting me with that but I want to hear him say it himself.

“Hit that pretty little head of yours. Knock you out cold,” Pietro says, the evil smile still playing on his face.

Hell no. I’m not going to let him do that. A nasty bump on my head is not something I want when I wake up. I don’t mind anyone killing me but hurting me to turn me unconscious? Nah. That’s an absolute no-no. A painful headache is not something I want to deal with while I’m still in this uncertain situation. Nope. Absolutely not.

“No, thank you. You put yourself in this situation so you have to put up with my shit,” I say. The grin disappears from Pietro’s face, replaced with a scowl.

“Yeah. You heard that right. That’s your fault for being involved in kidnapping this girl right here,” I say. My glare bored deep into his eyes as I point at myself. Without taking his eyes off me, Pietro puts away the gun.

“You’re loud for someone who’s being kidnapped,” Luciano says.

My gaze snaps towards the man in the front seat. The corner of his lips is slightly curved up. It’s obvious he replaces my nuisance amusing. Good for him to replace entertainment in my suffering.

“That’s what you get from kidnapping me,” I say with a shrug. What I said only seems to entertain him further and causes his grin to widen. I’m not sure if I’m being paranoid now but I feel something sinister hiding behind his seemingly light-hearted smile.

Pietro sighs. Now he’s staring at Luciano from the space between the seat and the window, frowning in exasperation.

"Posso sedarla?” Pietro asks.

(Can I sedate her?)

I recall what he just said, trying to understand it. Today is really an awful day to have shitty Italian language knowledge. I do understand what post means but what the heck does sedarla means? Fuck. I should’ve continued learning Italian. It’s a convenience to understand the language in the current situation I’m in.

Luciano is now busy with his phone again, typing a few words in a messaging app. He sends the text and nods to answer Pietro’s request.

“Sicuro,” Luciano says.

(Sure.)

Whatever Pietro asked earlier has received Luciano’s word of approval. I feel the energy in the car shifts. Something bad is about to happen to me. Shit.

My eyes widen when I feel Sebastiano holding my hands behind my back. He keeps me in place as Pietro pulls something out of his jacket. My futile attempt in freeing myself only causing my arms to hurt. The secure grip Sebastiano has around my wrists is impossible to fight. I can’t fight him.

Pietro holds up a syringe. The liquid inside it gleams as streetlights shine down on it. Shit. Hell fucking no. Not that shit. Now I know what sedates means. Fuck. They’re going to drug me now. I can’t let Pietro do it. I want to stay awake. I need to stay awake. I can’t fall asleep and risk not knowing what’s going to happen next.

Pietro’s tight grip on my jaw catches me off guard. He pushes my head against the headrest with full force, preventing me to move. The sight of the syringe nearing me triggers my fight response even more. Pietro’s grip only tightens as I try to escape him. Shit. There’s no point in fighting anymore. It’s going to happen. He’s going to put me to sleep with that thing.

“Stay fucking still,” Pietro says.

My body is now still despite the storm in my mind telling me to fight. I’m not taking the risk of breaking the needle while it’s in my neck. Pain shoots in my neck as the needle pierces through the skin of my neck. Once Pietro has emptied the syringe, he pulls it away from me and lets go of me. Sebastiano does the same, his expression cold.

“What the fuck? That hurts. Fucking assholes,” I say with a scowl.

A wince slips past my lips as I rub my neck. The pain from the injection still apparent. I don’t think it’ll gone anytime soon. All thanks to Pietro. How fucking great.

Pietro only looks at me blankly as if he didn’t just drugged me. Furious, I ignore everyone’s presence, not letting out a single word. With my head now against the headrest, I sigh to myself. My body is still burning with rage at our previous predicament.

I sense someone’s gaze on me. Now they’re coming from each of my side. I huff out a breath and glares at the two men next to me. My scowl still on display.

“What?” I snap.

“You should’ve passed out a minute ago,” Pietro says.

From the look on his face, I can see his true feeling at the moment. Confused. He’s certainly astounded by my wakefulness despite the shot of anaesthesia I just got earlier. Unfortunately, it doesn’t last long enough. The drug finally kicks in and now my eyelids begin to feel heavy. Fatigue and drowsiness envelope me, pulling me into the abyss. With my remaining consciousness, I gather all my strength to reply to Pietro’s question.

“Have you ever heard of anaesthesia resistance? That’s what’s happening to me now. Worry not though. I’ll pass out soon,” I explain sleepily. The drowsiness in my eyes finally overpowers me. There’s nothing I can do to fight the sleepiness. I let the darkness swallow me, and now I’m in the void with nothing and no one but myself.

Bright light blinds me as I open my eyes. Nothing seems to look different than before. The view in front of me is still similar to what I’ve seen before I passed out. Only long roads and cars. I turn to Pietro, and his eyes go wide when he sees me awake.

Why does he look so shocked now? What’s wrong? Is the drug not working as expected? Sucks for him. What time is it now anyway? How long have I been unconscious?

“What the fuck? How are you awake already?” Pietro asks.

“What?” I guess that’s Sebastiano who said it.

I shut my gaping mouth, still in the trance of my drowsiness. I wipe the drool from the corner of my lips with the sleeve of my shirt, grimacing a little. Ew. That’s gross.

“When are we going to arrive?” I ask.

“We’ll arrive at the airstrip in ten minutes,” Luciano says.

Oh. We’ll arrive soon. Whatever. I’m going back to sleep. They better carry me into the plane and not wake me up. It’s their fault for making me sleepy like this by drugging me.

“Okay. Ciao,” I say.

With the drug’s influence still over me, I shut my eyes again. I don’t plan on waking up ever again but as always, things don’t go according to my plan. However , it won’t stop me from wishing to die in my sleep so, I wish I’m dead before I wake up.