Summary:

Anya’s barking continues. At this rate, he will need to check on her at the very least to stop the headache that is slowly forming behind his eyes. “Anya! Come on!” Shane calls once more as he sets his phone down on the small table next to his seat, along with his half-finished coffee. Suddenly, before he can register what is happening, Shane feels a strong arm snake around his torso. Rough fibers scratching the exposed skin of his stomach where the hoodie remained unzipped, leaving him exposed. Just as a cry of shock starts to work its way up his throat, a gloved hand reaches around his mouth, smothering anything that would have left his lips. The arm around his middle tightens, and he feels the hard, cold tap of metal against his waist where he assumes his attacker’s hand is. 'A gun'.

....

“Grab him. I’ll start the car and we can get out of here.” Joe says over his shoulder as he makes his way to the front door.

....

'Ilya. Please.

Or

It should have been a quiet morning alone. Pulled violently from his home Shane realizes he must try and fight his way out, and hopes Ilya realizes what happened before it is too late.