Chapter 3:
Taken
Ethan
My eyes flew open, pain exploding through my skull like someone had smashed it with a hammer. Every bone in my body screamed as I tried to move. My ribs burned, my skin stung, and my lips were split open. The metallic taste of blood clung to my tongue.
I groaned, dragging myself upright. My palms pressed against the cold floor, my vision blurring for a second before settling on the cracked wall in front of me. I was still at the bottom of the stairs. The broom handle lay a few feet away—splintered, stained red. Mom and her boyfriend had left me here again, just like always.
I spat blood onto the floor and wiped my mouth with the back of my hand. My entire body ached, but the throbbing in my chest was worse. It wasn't just the bruises—it was that hollow ache that had lived inside me for years.
Then I heard it.
"Please! I'll pay! I swear! Just give me one more week!"
Mom's voice.
I froze, my heartbeat spiking. She sounded terrified. I pushed off the wall, my legs shaking, and stumbled toward the kitchen.
She was there—on her knees in front of the doorway, hands clasped together like she was begging for her life. Two huge men stood over her. Both wore black suits, their faces cold and unreadable. One of them had a scar running from his ear to his jaw. The other had eyes so dead they didn't even look human.
"What's going on?" I croaked, grabbing the doorframe to steady myself.
The taller one turned slowly, his gaze sliding over me from head to toe. A grin spread across his face, cruel and knowing. "Name's Rex," he said. "And your mom here owes us a little something. Fifty grand. Loans, bills, and whatever powder she's been snorting."
Mom whimpered. "Please, I just need more time—"
Rex raised a hand to silence her. His tone was almost bored. "No more time. If she can't pay, we'll take payment another way."
My stomach tightened. "What the hell do you mean 'another way'? I've been giving her all my money. Rent, food, everything! How the hell do we still owe?"
Mom turned on me, her face twisted with rage. Her mascara ran down in black streaks. "Bad luck, Ethan! That's what it is! Bad fucking luck! I'm tired of this life—tired of you!"
Her voice cracked. Then her eyes flicked toward Rex, desperate, calculating. "Wait. Look at him. My son. He's… young. Pretty. You can use him. Take him instead."
The words hit me like a punch.
"What?" I breathed, stepping back. "Mom, you can't—"
She shoved me hard, her nails digging into my arm. "Shut up, you worthless brat! You've been nothing but a curse since the day you were born!"
Rex's smirk widened as he looked me over again. "Yeah," he said quietly. "He'll do."
Mom's relief was instant. "See? Perfect! Take him. He's yours!"
"Mom…" My voice broke. "Why are you doing this?"
She stared right at me, her eyes full of hate. "Because you killed my husband! You killed your father, Ethan! You were there when that car hit him. You could have saved him—but you didn't!"
Tears burned my eyes. "I tried! I tried to pull him away! I was fifteen! I couldn't—"
"Save it!" Rex snapped. He flicked his fingers toward his men. "Grab him."
Two sets of hands latched onto my arms, their grips like iron. I kicked and struggled, screaming, "Let go! Mom, please! Don't do this!"
She didn't even flinch. She just folded her arms and sneered. "Goodbye, Ethan. Don't come crawling back."
The men dragged me out of the house, my shoes scraping against the porch. The cold night air slammed into me, making me gasp. A black SUV sat idling by the curb. They yanked the door open and threw me inside like trash. My head hit the seat, the impact sending another wave of pain through my ribs.
Rex climbed into the passenger seat while another man slid in beside me, keeping a firm grip on my arm.
"Where are you taking me?" I asked, my voice barely more than a whisper. "I can work. I'll do anything—just please don't hurt me."
Rex chuckled, glancing back through the mirror. "Relax, kid. You're not being taken to die. The bosses will decide what to do with you."
"Please," I begged, my throat raw. "Just let me go. I didn't do anything wrong."
The man next to me leaned closer, his breath hot against my ear. "You talk too much. Try that again, and I'll break your jaw."
I shut up. My pulse thundered in my ears as the SUV pulled away. Streetlights flashed through the tinted windows. Familiar roads disappeared into long, empty stretches of highway. The world outside blurred into darkness.
Minutes passed. Then hours. I lost track of time. My muscles ached, my eyelids grew heavy, but I couldn't sleep. Fear kept me awake. What if they killed me and dumped my body somewhere?
I remembered the dream I'd had the night before—the one where someone called me mate. For a moment, I'd thought it meant something. That someone out there might actually want me. But now… that was just a cruel joke.
The SUV finally slowed. The sound of tires crunching gravel filled the silence. Through the window, I saw huge iron gates opening. The vehicle rolled through and up a long driveway lined with trees so thick they swallowed the night sky.
At the top of the hill stood a mansion. Massive. Cold. It looked like it belonged to people who could buy and sell the world. Black stone walls, glass windows glowing faintly from inside, and guards patrolling the grounds with rifles. My chest tightened.
This wasn't some run-down hideout. This was power.
The SUV stopped in front of a staircase that looked like it led straight into hell. The men got out first, dragging me by the collar. My knees nearly buckled when my feet hit the ground.
"Move," one of them ordered.
They hauled me up the steps and through the front doors. Inside, everything gleamed—marble floors, a crystal chandelier, furniture that probably cost more than my life. It smelled like polish, smoke, and money.
They pushed me forward until I hit the cold tile floor. I landed on my knees, my breath catching from the impact. My hands trembled as I braced myself, staring at the ground.
Footsteps echoed from deeper in the house—slow, heavy, deliberate. Each step made my heart pound harder. Whoever it was, he didn't hurry. He didn't need to. The air in the room shifted, the kind of quiet that meant danger was close.
The footsteps stopped right in front of me. I didn't dare look up. My eyes stayed fixed on the floor, on the reflection of expensive black boots just inches away. My pulse thudded painfully in my throat.
Silence stretched until I couldn't take it anymore. I lifted my head.
Two men stood before me.
They were tall—towering, broad-shouldered, built like they could crush anyone with a single hand. Their features were sharp, too perfect to be real.
They could have been twins, but there was something distinct in each of them. The one on the left had eyes like cold steel and a scar cutting down his cheek. The other's gaze was darker, more dangerous, his mouth curved in a faint smirk that didn't reach his eyes.
Even standing still, they radiated power—raw, quiet, terrifying. My gut twisted. These weren't just men. They felt like predators wearing human skin.
Rex dropped to one knee beside me, his head bowed low. The two guards followed, their voices ringing through the room in unison.
"Alphas, we have arrived."