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The moment Bette jerked into consciousness, her immediate urge was to groan, but all she could manage was a muted whimper since her mouth was bound shut with adhesive tape. She was also deprived of sight, a cloth bandage tightly fixed around her skull, covering her eyes. With her heart rattling against her ribs, Bette instantly attempted to reach over and take the bandage off, but failed, for her hands were tied behind her back. Her breath was coming ragged and irregular and she swallowed hard, willing herself to calm down.
She was in a car, probably in a backseat. The car was moving. Voices were speaking in low, hushed tones. Going rigid, Bette strained her ears and listened. She distinguished a male voice and a female voice having a conversation, but still was unable to make out what was being said. Soft, jazz music was playing in the background. The air in the car smelled like men’s cologne mixed with leather.
Carefully Bette leaned her head back against the headrest and winced. She had a splitting headache and generally her head felt sore. The foggy memory of getting blinded by headlights and the sound of footsteps before it all had gone blank bounced back into her mind.
Under the pressure of the car making a turn Bette’s body began sliding to the side on the seat and she steadied herself with her feet squeezing against the floor. The car rode just a few more seconds before it began to slow down a bit. There were a few more stops and starts, and Bette heard a gate being unlocked and swinging open, and what sounded like men’s voices in the distance. When the vehicle was brought to a final halt, Bette braced herself.
”She’s awake,” a female voice spoke out loud, sounding unfamiliar.
Bette then heard doors open, the driver and the front seat passenger getting out of the car before shutting the doors. Bette took an uneven breath. In a few moments her door was opened.
”Get out,” the male voice demanded. The voice also gave her no recollection of who might be the owner.
A hand grabbed Bette’s arm and began to haul her from the car, against which Bette put up no resistance. There was no use to fight now. She knew from the past that fighting against your capturer, having been a capturer herself, would get you nowhere, so she decided to go with the flow until the situation became clearer.