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“I Cant Lose You” Tyler Rake Fan Fiction - Chapter 1

A/N: alright here we gooooo, my first chapter for my new Tyler Rake series, I hope you all enjoy x

Warnings: Death, violence, swearing, kidnapping - we are all aware that Extraction is a violent movie, but I just thought I’d still give a heads up.

Word Count: 4289 words - a longgg first chapter but I didn’t want to split this into two because it’s so fast paced :) I hope thats okay x

Cast

Chris Hemsworth as: Tyler Rake

Alycia Debnam-Carey as: Kate Spencer

Yesterday I was kidnapped.

3 men jumped out of a black van that had come to a screeching halt beside me on the side walk. They took me, threw me in the back of their van, bound my wrists and ankles and put a bag over my head.

Now, I’m cable tied to a chair, alone in a room. I beg myself to steady my breathing. If I don’t, I’m going to die of fucking hyperventilation before these sick fucks kill me. I shudder that the thought. The air is hot, as I breathe heavily against the bag that has been over my head for so long that I cannot remember the last time I saw daylight.

I listen closely to any voice I can make out. Anything that the people outside the room might say that could give me some indication into who they are. And what they want.

I can hear low, grumbles voices. Back and forth. But I can’t distinctly make out what is being said. Then, for a moment, there is complete and utter silence.

But then like a bomb detonating, suddenly gun fire bursts into the air. The sound is defeating to my ears that have barely heard any noise in surely what has to have been 48 hours. A scream almost escapes me as the sudden commotion frightens me so badly that I jolt in the chair. The gun fire is followed by shouting, and the sound of body parts colliding as if a fight has broken out. My mind is racing just as quickly as my heart, as I find myself holding my breath. More gun fire ensues, and I can hear objects crashing and slamming. What sounds like wood crashing and breaking along side grunting and cries of pain are all I can hear. I try and make out what is happening on the other side of that door, but it’s completely useless. From all I can hear, who ever is on the other side of this door is dangerous.

I begin to pray. Pleading, begging with any god that is listening that who ever is doing this is here to take me away from these fucking people.

But I might not be so lucky.

Realising that the sounds are so loud they might provide some kind of protection, I leap into action, beginning to wriggle and fight against the cable ties that are digging into the flesh around my wrist. The dull plastic burns as I feel it tear into my skin. I whimper slightly, unable to control the noise from coming out as I wrestle with the restraints.

But something catches my attention… the noise outside has stopped.

I stop moving immediately, the sudden silence rendering me completely frozen. Terrified to even breathe to loudly, I hold my breath again. But I’m practically in the middle of a panic attack, and hyperventilation gets the best of me as my lungs burn. My chest rises and falls heavily beneath my shirt which sticks to my skin, soaked with sweat.

I think I can still hear footsteps. This fucking bag makes everything muffled and harder to hear.

I hear the door knob turn with a squeal, followed by the door flying open, banging against the wall loudly. All logic and reason leaves my body as the footsteps enter the room. Unable to control myself, I begin to scream.

I am completely defenceless. I have no way to fight the person who could be here to take me. Or kill me.

The thought of this sends my panic into overdrive. As the person gets closer to me, my cries turn into blood curdling screams. The kind that make my throat burn as they claw their way up and explode out of my chest. To my horror, I feel the persons hands on me. They are strong and firm as they grip at my legs trying to hold me still and stop my desperate lashing.

“No, no, no” I chant repeatedly, my screams turning more and more into sobs.

With whatever strength I have left I begin back pedalling, pumping my legs to push myself away from whoever is in here. The sound of the chair legs scraping across the floor is ear piercing as I push myself backwards until I hit a wall and can’t go any further.

Complete terror at the fact that I cannot escape leaves me with no choice but to thrash around in my chair, praying that something gives or maybe I injure them somehow. I feel the cable tie around my ankles digging into my skin, but the adrenaline coursing through me like electric currents prevents me from feeling it. But then, I hear a snap.

One of my ankles is free.

Sensing that an ankle has broken free, I begin kicking manically.

Behind my screams and begging, I can hear a males voice. It sounds unfamiliar. I think I can hear him pleading with me, telling me he isn’t going to hurt me, but it’s overridden by my deafening cries.

At first, I’m kicking at nothing, I’m just desperately hoping I will strike them somewhere hard enough for me to delay them. The pair of hands grabs at me firmly again, this time, grabbing onto my shoulders. With barely anything left in my body, I deliver one final strike. And this time, I hit something. I feel my shoe come into contact with a body, and my attacker responds with a shout of pain, like all the wind has left his body.

Then, like a giant head light is beaming in my direction, daylight floods over me. The sudden brightness burns at my eyes, but they’re open just long enough to realise that when I kicked the man he went flying backwards, taking the bag over my head with him.

I blink rapidly as the room spins around me. Panic, adrenaline, and my senses being completely overwhelmed makes me so dizzy that I feel like I’m going to pass out. As I shake my hanging head, trying to stay conscious, I see the man in the corner of my eye begin to get up of the floor. My head shoots towards him as I sit up straight in my chair. I’m completely paralysed with fear as I watch him. He is panting heavily and clutching at his stomach, where I realise is where I had kicked him.

From somewhere around his waist he suddenly pulls out a knife, but before I can start screaming again, he holds his hands up in a surrender.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” he begs, getting closer to me wearily “I’m going to cut you from the ties okay”

I couldn’t even speak if I wanted to.

I notice his accent. It’s heavy. Australian. He moves slowly, eyes locked on mine, trying to convince me that he’s not going to hurt me. But still, every breath he takes, every muscle that moves makes me flinch. Even though I’m sitting, I can already see that this man towers over me. His shirt clings to him, covered in dirt and sweat. It sticks to his skin, revealing the tone of his muscles beneath. As he gets closer, my eyes follow him suspiciously. I can’t tell if it’s the hot, thick air in the room or not, but the tension begins to grow as he moves behind me until I can’t see him in my peripheral anymore.

I hear his feet shuffle, and I think I can make out the sound of him kneeling. With my arms tied and him behind me with that knife in his hand, he could slit my throat right now. I squeeze my eyes shut.

This could be my last breath.

Plastic snaps, and my wrists suddenly break free from the cable tie. I exhale heavily, releasing what almost sounds like a sob. Shock and relief wash over me all at once. I hold my wrists tenderly, grimacing as I see that I have burns around both wrists.

He quickly comes back into my vision, now kneeling in front of me to cut lose my one leg that is still restrained. As he works at the plastic he glances up at me briefly, giving me one reassuring nod.

“Who are you?” My voice is hoarse and croaky from screaming. He just looks back down.

I could question him, press harder. But I’m honestly not sure if I even feel fully conscious right now. I’m completely exhausted. My body in all kinds of overstimulation. I begin to ache as I slowly come down of my adrenaline high that had been fuelling me.

“Can you walk?” He asks, standing up. I look down at my legs, wondering if they even work anymore. But before I have the chance to stand on my own, he grabs my forearms, pulling me up to my feet. He let’s go once I’m up, but I begin to stumble as soon as he’s not supporting me.

“Whoa, whoa okay” he grabs me again, steadying me. He watches me nervously as I regain feeling in my legs. The blood rushes back into them, making me feel both stronger and faint all at once.

“You good now?” He asks again. When I nod, he quickly runs out of the room, returning moments later with t shirts from a nearby clothes line.

I watch him fold the shirt into a triangle. Lifting it up to my face to tie it around my mouth and head. I flinch, pulling away from him. Recognising that I’m completely terrified he moves slowly and hesitantly, wrapping it around my head.

“It’s just to hide your face” He reassures me, then demonstrates by doing the same thing to himself.

I nod, adjusting the cloth.

“Alright. Follow me, and stay behind me” he emphasises, raising a gun aimed at the ready before darting out of the room.

Somehow, my legs lurch forward and I begin to follow him. But when I stumble out of the room, I’m met with a scene that looks like it’s straight out of a horror movie, or my worst nightmare. Except I’m not dreaming. This is real. Several dead men lay on the floor. Blood pooling around each of them. Their bodies have been damaged brutally in various ways. My breath hitches when my eyes fall over one man who has been impaled with a gardening rake that is lodged very firmly in his neck.

Did he do all this?

When the man notices I’m not following him, he turns back, rushing over to me. When I see him coming towards me, I stumble backwards with fear.

“Who are you?” I breathe, putting more and more distance between him and I the closer he gets.

He stares back at me, almost looking hurt by how fearful I am of him.

“We need to move, now” He orders me, ignoring my question again.

“Did you do this?” I shudder, glancing at the bodies nervously.

He shakes his head in frustration, before lunging forward to grab my arm.

“If we don’t go now, more of them are going to come, do you understand?” He hisses in my face.

Shaken from his force and anger, I freeze, neither complying or disobeying him.

“God-fucking-dammit” he growls. With his hand still wrapped around my arm, he drags me forward, jogging through the room, through all the bodies.

We’re moving so fast I can’t even comprehend where we are or where we are going, as he leads me through the hall ways of an apartment complex. But the longer we run the more I begin to come back to my senses. Back to my body. As we fly down the flights of stairs, I begin to panic.

Why won’t he answer my fucking question?

Where is he taking me?

I flash back to the dead bodies in the apartment just a few flights above us, and feel myself growing sick at the thought that the man I am following did that… and could easily do that to me. The stairwell begins to grow brighter and brighter as I realise we are reaching the exit.

When you get out of the building, run.

As we make it into the lobby, he lets go of my arm, using both his hands to aim his gun around. He quickly stalks to the front of the building, and I trail behind him, letting him think that I’m still following.

He stops in the doorway, strategically analysing the street ahead before looking back his shoulder at me.

“I’m going to the car, I’ll signal when you can follow” He orders me, before taking of in the direction of a small car parked across the road.

I take a deep breath watching as he rips the car door open, throwing his gun into the passenger side before running around to the drivers side. He looks up at me, waving for me to run now.

This man could fucking kill me for this. But if I don’t escape, he might kill me anyway.

With one final deep breath, and a burst of adrenaline that I didn’t even know I had left in me, I push of the door step, taking of sprinting in the other direction. From the moment my feet hit the ground and I can hear him swearing and shouting after me. But that doesn’t stop me. Fear and desperation grows in the pit of my stomach as my legs pump ferociously. And for a moment I think I’m getting away. That is until the sound of heavy foot steps grows louder, gaining on me from behind like a stampede.

Knowing that he is closing in on me, I begin to scream, shouting out to anyone who can hear me for help. But my screaming is brought to an abrupt halt when an arm wraps around my stomach, stopping me dead in my tracks. The wind is knocked out of me, his arm feeling like I just ran straight into a steel bar. He drags me backwards immediately, both of his arms now constricting around my waist.

I try to scream with the little air I manage to get into me but my lungs feel like they’ve just been crushed. Struggling against him doesn’t work either, there’s only so much I can do with barely any oxygen.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing” He shouts, putting me back down on the ground forcefully “You are going to get yourself killed”

“Just tell me who you are!” I beg him for an answer, but he just ignores me yet again.

His rough hand is locks around my forearm in a death grip as he drags me to the car. I begin to reach for the passengers side when a sharp yank rips me away from the door handle. Shocked, I look up to realise he’s leading me straight to the back of the car.

The boot.

Panic stricken, I begin to dig my heals into the gravel road, pulling back against him. I still do not know who this man is, and what he wants with me. And there’s no fucking way I’m letting him put me in a boot. With one annoyed glance back at me, he pulls me forward. But as the prospect of being trapped in a dark boot with no idea where I’m going sets in, I struggle against him even more. Being completely winded doesn’t seem so bad now that I’m facing being locked in a car again.

We engage in a game of tug of war with my arm for a few moments, before he finally turns around. Angrily, he shoves me against the car, pointing a finger in my face.

“Listen, if you know what’s good for you, you’ll get in the boot”

“I don’t even know who you fucking are?!” I exclaim, bewildered at his logic. How am I supposed to know what’s good for me when I don’t even know who this man is and where the hell he is taking me. I clutch at my stomach, hunched over at the waist. The pain is still searing and I’m struggling to get air.

Jesus Christ, did he break one of my fucking ribs?

Sure, he just ‘freed’ me from the assholes that originally kidnapped me. But how the hell do I know that I haven’t just fallen into the hands of someone even worse.

With one arm keeping me pressed against the car, he uses the other to rip open the boot angrily. Cursing to himself in frustration he turns back to me. Frightened by the sheer rage on his face, I keep my mouth shut.

“Okay then,” he breathes in my face before giving me an irritated smile as he introduces himself “I’m Tyler”

Then in one swift movement, his hands grab my waist and he lifts me up of the ground like it’s nothing. They are so big I feel them almost close around my torso completely. He hoists me up over his shoulder, carrying me over to the boot. My legs kicking legs and my fists pounding at his back relentlessly don’t effect him at all. It’s like beating a brick wall. I’m terrified at how easily this man can manoeuvre my body weight like it’s nothing to him.

Suddenly I feel myself falling backwards, and before I know it he has dropped me into the boot. I hit the interior of the boot with a thud, and the wind being knocked out of me yet again distracts me from the fact that he has slammed the door on me.

The darkness and the lack of air dawns on me very quickly. I can feel the car start up, and the rumble beneath me tells me that we’re on our way from wherever this man, Tyler, is taking me. I find myself both struggling to regain my breath from being thrown around like a human sand bag, and hyperventilating from panic all at once.

The ride becomes more and more disorienting as I try to take notice of how many turns we take, but I lose track as I start to feel sick. I don’t even notice we have stopped until the boot suddenly flies open and sunlight streams in, blinding me. But I don’t have long to pull myself together before his hands grab both my arms and he yanks me up out of the boot.

“Wasn’t that hard was it?” He hisses at me.

But I barely hear him. I’m stood there in shock as I try and come back to my senses. What felt like only an hour ago I was tied to a chair in a tiny room, with a bag over my head. Maybe the adrenaline has run out, but everything begins to hit me at once. I would run away if I could right now, try and take of again. But confusion, shock and exhaustion keep my feet firmly planted.

“Arms up” He growls and I realise he’s towering over me, holding a vest out to me. When I stand there still feeling paralysed and overwhelmed, he rolls his eyes.

“I said arms up”

His booming voice snaps me back into reality a little, just enough for me to hold my arms up like he says. He pulls the vest down over my head, tightening the straps hastily and firmly. I struggle to stay standing under his forceful pushing and pulling.

Does he even realise his own strength?

Clearly not concerned that I’m going anywhere this time, he turns away, heading back to the car. With his back to me, he lifts up his shirt. As the fabric glides up, my eyes fall over his now revealed skin. It’s covered with bruises, cuts and scars that are scattered like constellations. A large symbolic tattoo sits between his shoulder blades. This is the first time I have been able to look at him properly. To take him in. I swallow nervously as I watch the muscles in his back move, contracting and releasing.

He could kill me with one blow. Easily.

He wrestles on another shirt and straps himself into his own vest. All his moves are erratic. Angry. Even when he turns back to face me, I jolt with fright. This man is a pure force.

“Eat this” he demands, shooting a protein bar in my direction “Your blood sugars low, that’s why you feel like shit”

Somehow, even through all my exhaustion, I find myself scoffing at his comment.

“Okay, don’t eat it then” he shrugs, slamming the car boot.

“I feel like shit because I was abducted, and now I have some fucking psychopathic-“

“You sure you want to finish that sentence?” He shoots me a threatening look.

I clench my jaw shut and he watches me angrily as he pulls out a phone from his pocket.

Holding it up in front of my face, he nods at me.

“Name”

I stare at him. I still have no idea who this guy is. Or who the hell he is sending this video to.

“Name” He repeats forcefully.

I want to comply, through fear of his wrath if I don’t. But I’m also terrified of who it is he is reporting to.

“Right” he growls, shoving the phone back down into his pocket. He begins charging towards me, stopping when he’s only inches away from my face. He grabs my vest jostling me a little.

“You are in a very fucking dangerous position right now, and I am the only person who is keeping you out of that danger. So if you don’t start complying, I will start forcing you”

“I don’t know who you are”

“I told you my name-“

“What, Tyler? Oh good I know your name, now I can trust you!” I exclaim sarcastically “I don’t even know where you’re taking me!”

“I’m taking you away from the people who kidnapped you, is that not enough?”

“Really? Because this feels a lot like a fucking kidnapping right now”

He parts his lips, ready to fire back another round of words. But nothing comes out. He glares at me, his eyes locked in on mine in a death stare.

I stare back, refusing to falter underneath the raging flame that he is right now. I can almost feel the heat radiating off of him.

“Trust me. If I was going to kill you, I would have done it by now. At least then you’d shut your goddamn mouth”

He steps back from me, fiddling with his vest which I realise is loaded with guns and knives. He takes one of them out, and points it towards me. It’s takes everything in me not to scream as the gun motions my way, until I realise that he’s going to shoot me. He’s holding it out for me to take.

Trying to act like I’m not in shock, I take the gun from him.

“You were kidnapped by people who wanted to use you as a leverage to get your fathers money. I was hired to extract you from them, and return you home. And I intend on doing that, because I need the goddamn money” He pauses, nodding at the gun in my hand “So there. You get a gun. You can kill me. If you don’t believe me. Go ahead”

Surprising even myself, I raise the gun at him.

He watches me for a moment, and then, he steps forward. He doesn’t back away from the pistol pointed straight at his head. He walks into it. What the fuck.

He stares me down unwaveringly until he has gotten so close that the gun is pressed directly against his forehead.

The seconds that pass between us are slow and gruelling as I stare up at him in disbelief.

What is this death wish that he has?

It has never been a secret to me what kind of people my Dad has gotten caught up with. And what kind of people want revenge against him for the things he has done. And I know they don’t care who they have to kill to get that revenge. And Tyler knows that too. Rescuing me is a suicide mission in itself. But now he hands me a gun and dares me to pull the trigger? If he was here to kill me, he would have done it by now. If he wanted revenge against my father, he wouldn’t have killed every man back there. And like he said, he want’s his money. And money is exactly what my father has.

I lower the gun slowly as I come to the realisation that he may be telling the truth. This man is my rescuer…

As the gun falls to my side completely as I surrender to him, he smiles with a shit eating smirk.

“Didn’t think so”

He quickly turns his attention back to his phone.

“Name?” He asks me again.

“Kate” I manage to reply and he nods

“Last name?”

“Spencer”

“Birth date”

“September 20th, 1994”

He pauses for a moment, looking at me. I don’t know whether he thought I was older or younger, but something about my age catches him of guard. He looks… concerned. Like for a moment hearing my name and age reminded him that I’m just a human too. Not just a mission. But surely I can’t be that young to him. I’m 26. He looks like he’s in his 30’s. Besides all of the sweat, dirt and tanned skin that looks like leather, he doesn’t appear to be to old himself.

He shakes his head quickly, before turning the camera back on himself.

“Proceeding to extraction”

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