15 | where do we go now

I woke up with a pounding headache, my vision blurry. It took me a moment to realize I was lying on a cold, hard floor. My hands were tied behind my back, and my mouth was gagged. Panic surged through me as I tried to make sense of my surroundings. I was in a dimly lit room, the only light coming from a flickering bulb overhead.

A rough voice cut through the silence. "Look who's awake."

I turned my head and saw a man standing in the corner, watching me with a smirk on his face. He was tall and muscular, with a scruffy beard and cold, calculating eyes. It was Petrovich. The guy me and Tim were after.  "What do you want?" I tried to say, but the gag muffled my words.

He walked over and crouched down beside me, yanking the gag from my mouth. "Who are you looking for, little hot cop?" he asked, his breath hot against my face.

I was shocked he knew I was a cop, my throat dry. "I'm not a cop. Where's Jake?" I demanded, trying to keep our cover and sound braver than I felt.

The man chuckled. "Jake? Isn't his name Tim? Don't worry, you'll see him soon enough. But first, we need to have a little chat."

Fear gripped me, but I forced myself to stay calm. It was over. I couldn't do anything else to prevent blowing up our cover.

"What do you want with us?"

He tilted his head, considering me. "That depends on you. If you cooperate, maybe things will go smoothly. If not... Well, let's just say it won't be pleasant."

I swallowed hard, my mind racing. "I'll do whatever you want. Just don't hurt him."

He stood up and walked to the other side of the room, picking up a phone. "Let's start with a call, shall we?" He dialed a number and waited. "Yeah, I've got her," he said into the phone. "No, she doesn't know anything yet."

He turned back to me, his expression hardening. "Why are you here?"

I blinked, trying to focus. "It was not my intention to find you yet."

He raised an eyebrow. "Is that so? Then why were you snooping around where you didn't belong?"

"I was looking for Tim," I insisted. "He disappeared, and I was worried about him."

The man studied me for a long moment, then nodded slowly. "Alright. Maybe you're telling the truth. But we can't take any chances." He pulled out a syringe filled with a clear liquid.

"What's that?" I asked, panic rising again.

"Just something to help you relax," he said with a sinister smile.

I struggled against my bonds, but it was no use. He approached me and injected the liquid into my arm. Almost immediately, a strange numbness spread through my body, and my eyelids grew heavy.

"Sleep tight," the man said as darkness claimed me once more.

***

I woke up again, this time in a different room. It was slightly more comfortable, with a bed and a small table. My hands were still tied, but the gag was gone. My head throbbed, and I felt groggy from whatever they had given me.

The door opened, and another man walked in, this one younger and less menacing. He carried a tray of food and set it down on the table. "Eat," he said curtly.

"I'm not hungry," I replied, my voice hoarse.

"Suit yourself," he said, shrugging. "But you'll need your strength."

"For what?" I asked, my fear returning.

"You'll find out soon enough," he said, turning to leave. "Just behave, and you'll be fine."

I watched him go, my mind a whirlwind of thoughts. Where was Tim? What did these people want with us? And how were we going to get out of this?

I knew I had to stay strong and find a way to escape. But for now, all I could do was wait and hope that Tim was safe and that we would be reunited soon.

***

Hours passed, or maybe it was days—I couldn't tell in the windowless room. The same man brought me food periodically, but I barely touched it. My mind was consumed with worry for Tim and fear for what might happen next.

Finally, the door opened again, and the first man—the one who had knocked me out—entered. "Time to move," he said, roughly pulling me to my feet.

"Where are you taking me?" I demanded, struggling against his grip.

"You'll see," he said, dragging me out of the room and down a dimly lit hallway.

We reached a larger room where several men were gathered. In the center was a chair, and in that chair was Tim, his hands tied behind his back. He looked bruised and exhausted, but relief flooded his face when he saw me.

"Tim!" I cried, tears springing to my eyes.

"Lucy!" he called back, his voice raw with emotion.

The man shoved me into the room, and I stumbled forward, falling to my knees. "Reunited at last," he said with a mocking tone.

I crawled over to Tim, my heart breaking at the sight of him. "Are you okay?" I asked, my voice choked with tears.

"I'm fine," he said, though it was clear he was anything but. "I'm so sorry, Lucy. This is all my fault."

"Don't say that," I whispered, reaching out to touch his hand. "We'll get through this together."