by Dylann Crush
“And your point, Monty?” he responded with irritating glee.
My younger brother might have been the funny one, but I was clever. And whenever I got him back, I would make sure he never saw it coming.
James wasn’t going to let me out. The realization settled on me with irritation like a bang from a flat tire on a dirt road in the middle of July. I felt deflated and desperate. The only person with a spare wanted something so idiotic, thoughts of peeing in his ice cube tray filled my head.
Turning from the door, I looked around. I couldn’t see anything. The small room had no light. Blackness might have been engulfing me, but I wouldn’t let it hold me down.
There had to be a way out of this dark prison he held me in without resorting to his stupid plan.
“I told you, I won’t streak naked through the Jingle Ball. These people didn’t pay five thousand dollars a plate to raise money for testicular cancer to have me do a naked dance with my cock wrapped up like a candy cane as I shout, ‘I’m giving licks away because I’m a festive fuck.’”
He coughed.
“Oh, man . . . when you say it out loud like that, I realize what a brilliant idea this was. My viewers will love it. And don’t forget to wrap that red ribbon around your dick tight enough that it won’t fall off. You didn’t throw the ribbon away, did you?”
I knew he wanted to film it for his VidTube channel, Joke’in James. I was a rational man who loved his brothers. They were family, and I would do just about anything for family. Anything but this . . .
I was happy for James that he found success with his prank channel, but he promised he’d never include me in one of his episodes. I wouldn’t even donate to his business until he swore not to include me in his videos.
Yet, here I was, naked, in a closet, with a red ribbon in my hand about to plead with him to let me go.
“You know Rock will kill you. We’re here to spread the word about his exclusive resort, The Blue Spot, which opens in the spring. How will anyone want to stay there if I run amok, naked and flashing my candy cane dick around?”
More laughter. I sighed and leaned against the cool door. I had given up trying to jiggle the handle several minutes ago. The lock was solid, as was the wood they made the door from. Yes, I had also flung my body against it.
Only James could let me out. He held the power to my freedom and, therefore, my humiliation.
“What our big brother doesn’t know won’t hurt him.”
“Just because he’s not here doesn’t mean he won’t find out, James. You will post it on your channel, and that’s when Rock will see it.”
I loved my brothers. Rock was like a father to me, and James was the baby of the family. After our parents died almost ten years ago, Rock took care of us, and I tried my best to keep an eye on James.
Rock helped us find success. First with me and my app business, and then with James. He was even James’s first cameraman for his channel. He put his life on hold so we could find our way in the world.
And now it was his turn. Rock dreamed of opening a resort, and I jumped at the chance to help him, both with investing and now with promoting The Blue Spot at this swanky charity ball.
Besides, I wanted to expand my business into unique areas of technology. I might have been a billionaire, but I still required investments to expand. How better than to schmooze with other wealthy people?
The Jingle Ball was the perfect opportunity for me and my brother. But, of course, James had to ruin it. I loved him too, but sometimes he forgot that his actions affected others. Not everyone wanted in on the joke.
“Fair point. Maybe we change it up a little. There’s an auction happening right before the main meal . . . What if I offer you up to the highest bidder?”
Groaning, I knocked my head against the door a few times until I felt dizzy.
“How is that better?”
“I never said it was better. But it popped into my head and sounded funny, so why not?”
He didn’t continue. There was only silence. I pushed my ear up to the door but couldn’t hear a thing. James wouldn’t leave me here, would he?
“James? You still there?”
“Yes. Just checking my subscriber numbers. I have to use the restroom. I’ll be back. And remember, the streaking will take less than a minute. You do this, and a minute later, you can dress and enjoy the party. I’ll leave you with that thought.”
I rolled my eyes and mumbled, “Yeah. I’ll enjoy the party in handcuffs.”
There was no way I was streaking. I wasn’t nineteen years old and drunk at a party. I was twenty-eight, head of my company, Diaz Technologies, and was here for business.
There had to be another way out. Even in the most complicated math equations, there was always an answer. And I had yet to discover a problem I couldn’t solve.
Perhaps something in this room would help.
My fingers stretched across the smooth wall as I felt my way around. My foot caught on something. I reached down. It was a cardboard box. I waved my arm in front of me and discovered several more. James held me captive in a storage closet.
Moving farther along the wall, I made it to the corner and turned, creeping against another wall. There was a sudden pain as my head banged against something hard and sharp. Squinting, I rubbed the spot on my forehead and hoped there wasn’t any blood.
I felt for what I had hit. It seemed to be a clothing rack, as I found a few wooden hangers with wire hooks dangling from it. I wondered, with the ribbon James had given me and the hanger, if I could make something MacGyver-esque and save myself from James’s plan.
Making my way back to the door, I found the ribbon on the ground where I dropped it. After a few twists of the ribbon on the hanger, I tried to pick the lock.
I concluded I wasn’t MacGyver after several failed attempts. I was a math nerd turned tech geek trapped in a closet, naked with a hanger swaddled in festive ribbon. Definitely a new low for me.
This moment trumped the hot pepper incident. Just thinking of the incident hurt my cock.
I wasn’t much of a ladies' man, but I had dated a few women in my time. But ever since I made my billions, the women I dated were more interested in my money than my personality. Everyone realized that but me. And to say I did some crazy things to impress them was an understatement. The hot pepper incident was the worst of them all.
But I learned my lesson. Never feed a woman ghost peppers and then have her suck your cock. It’s not kinky; it’s horrific.
I took the hook off the hanger and tried to pick the lock. I knew nothing about it but felt somewhat confident as I had watched many movies involving heists. They always included someone who could pick locks. I couldn’t imagine it would be that difficult.
After several minutes and sweat forming on my brow, I gave up. I guess picking locks would never be a backup career of mine. There went my plans of helping in any heists . . .
“Change your mind, Monty?”
I gripped the hanger so tightly that I heard it crack. The only way out was to agree to whatever foolishness my brother wanted me to do.
There was an empty feeling in the pit of my stomach. Maybe it wasn’t so bad being stuck in here for several hours. It might do me good to take a break. Be bored for a while. Maybe the next big idea would hit me, alone in my solitude—and perhaps madness.
I frowned because all the excuses I imagined didn’t make me feel any better. James held the key to my release. One day I would get him back . . .
I banged on the door a few times in frustration. “Yes, I have—”
Right then, as I was about to admit defeat to my brother, there was a noise. It didn’t come from the door where I stood arguing with James. No, it came from my right.
“Monty, if you just—”
“Shh!” I waved him off, even though he couldn’t see me. I stepped to the side as I hadn’t explored this area of the closet.
“Monty, I’m getting some hors d’oeuvres and something to d
rink. I’ll be back soon. I think you’ll change your mind by then.”
I stopped paying attention to my brother when I heard another noise and some mumbling. There was someone nearby. I didn’t know if a wall separated us or a door, but I had to find out.
I tripped over a few boxes but found my footing and the wall where the noises came from. It felt like there was a door, but I couldn’t find a knob or handle. Just a short, wide indent in the wall.
I knocked and was silent, hoping for a response. My heart pounded in my chest. The beats were so loud, I hoped it wouldn’t drown out any sound from the other side.
I eagerly waited as my smile grew. Finally, a chance for escape. If the person on the other side of the wall could let me out, then there would be no streaking, and I could get back to what I was here for—to play my happy, jolly part.
But after a lengthy pause, there was nothing. No voice. No movement.
Had I imagined it? My grin weakened and faded as the realization hit me harder than that clothing rack. There would be no rescue. No escape from my brother’s ridiculous plan.
I felt like a princess in a fairytale. Only the villain didn’t want my long locks or beautiful voice, just my candy cane cock.
Sighing, I unraveled the ribbon from the hanger, which I had never let go of, and wrapped it around my cock. I might as well accept my defeat now.
Just as I finished and tied up the end in a bow to add that extra bit of shame, something magical happened. Better than an angel floating down from Heaven. Better than a unicorn crapping out rainbow droppings. Better than chocolate chip cookies dipped in a frosty glass of milk.
That short, squat indent opened, and light poured into the room. It wasn’t bright, but luminous enough that I backed away and moved behind the boxes.
As I peeked out and my eyes adjusted, a beautiful figure appeared in the doorway. She had long, golden hair, and I wondered for a moment if she was an angel because it seemed like she had wings.
“Hello? Is someone there?” she asked, and I glimpsed her profile, taking in more of what she looked like as the light bounced off her face.
She was beautiful.
I was about to respond when she took a step forward and the door swung closed behind her with a loud squeak and a final resounding thud.
I chose that moment to respond to my golden angel, “Oh, fuck, we’re trapped.”
2
Julia
“Did you hear that?” I asked, tilting my head toward the back of the coat closet.
Laura pointed at me. “No. You. Don’t.”
Her blonde hair was pulled back in an impeccably quaffed bun. Laura’s foolproof, fire-engine-red lipstick on her gorgeous lips—that I secretly wished I had inherited—was perfectly applied. Her white button-up shirt, crisp and wrinkle-free, was tucked into her pressed black pants. My sister was the picture of perfection.
I was definitely not.
“I swear I heard something. Do you think this place is haunted? Is this the hotel Dolly Madison haunts?”
I was fucking with my sister. It’s just what I did. She always looked immaculate and had the perfect life. While people could count on me to be the life of the party, she was the person people trusted with their secrets. I was the girl guys didn’t bring home to mom but loved to get freaky with.
What I meant was, I was the fun one.
“This hotel isn’t haunted, Julia. I got you this gig because you said you needed money. Do nothing that might . . . you know . . .” My sister pursed her lips.
Bless her. She couldn’t do it. I loved my sister. She was sweet and kind and hard-working and had just about every good attribute you could think of. And she never spoke ill about anyone, even as her own cousin fucked her boyfriend behind her back. But I digress.
I raised my eyebrows in mock-innocence. “Fuck this up for you? I wouldn’t dream of it, Sis.”
And I meant that. Truly. I never hurt anyone on purpose, especially someone like my younger sister, whom I loved with all my heart.
Her lips thinned once again, the red almost disappearing. She didn’t believe me, but Laura would never say anything. She’d swallow her irritation and let it explode in a crying jag while watching an action movie. Tears shed for all the characters needlessly blown to pieces or shot point-blank in the head.
Laura reached over and tucked a few strands of hair behind my ear. “I worry about you all alone in Mom and Dad’s house. Since they went RVing and Jami’s away at college, you’re alone in that tiny town. Move here to D.C. There’s lots going on.”
My frown deepened the more she spoke.
“I’m a country girl. I understand the appeal of city life but . . .” I picked at my fingernail and shrugged. Admitting something I never even told her before, and I always told her everything, like TMI everything, was going to be difficult. “I enjoy walking the trails of the mountains back in Castle Ridge. I would miss that. It’s too busy here, too noisy, and way too expensive.”
She nodded because I believed my sister secretly missed Castle Ridge, Virginia, too. She lived in Washington, D.C. with her boyfriend so she could work for his father in some fancy restaurant.
My sister had a career. She was a chef. I had jobs because working for the man wasn’t my thing. Especially when the man was a dickhole who had a dickhole of a son who cheated on my sister.
She ignored my cries of his philandering. No matter what I said, she assumed the best in people, even her jerk boyfriend.
“Is dickhole here, oops . . . I mean Beau?”
Her green eyes jerked around, refusing to focus on me. She stood on the other side of the Dutch door with the lower half blocking her legs, but I knew she was tapping her foot.
“I know you don’t like Beau, but if you just got to know him a little better—”
I snorted. “Oh, I know what he’s like. I just don’t think you do.”
She sighed and pretended to straighten her perfect hair.
“I can’t talk about this, Julia. I’m at work. The guests should arrive soon for the ball. All you have to do is take their coats and hand them a ticket. They’re rich, so they’ll tip well.”
Now it was time for me to purse my lips as I eyed my sister.
“Fine. Maybe not big tips, but they will tip.”
I continued to stare.
“Okay, fine, I lied. Rich people are stingy jerks. But some will tip, so you will make more than the hourly wage. Besides, I heard that a VidTube star you like will be here, Jake James. Is that his name?”
My eyes widened. Now my interest was piqued.
“It’s Joke’in James. His videos are hilarious. I’ll take his coat anytime.” I winked.
She smiled for the first time that evening, and I was glad. My sister was stressed all the time, and she needed some fun in her life. I only took the coat check job so I could spend some time with her. Come up to D.C. for a girls’ weekend. Even if it meant rich people threw their mothballed coats and cruelty-filled furs at me.
Also, the money didn’t hurt. I never had a steady job, so I needed the cash.
But I missed my sister. A billion dollars couldn’t keep me away from her.
“I have to get back to prepping the dishes.” She grabbed my hand and with a soft smile said, “I love you, Julia. You’re my best friend and sister . . . don’t tell Jami. I want you to get serious. You can have fun anytime, but when you’re at work, it’s work. Okay?”
I nodded. She was right. I wasn’t sixteen anymore; I was thirty. Maybe it was time to think about a career. A fun one, like beer tester or a park ranger or something.
I made a mental note to look into cool, fun jobs when I got home.
“I promise. I’ll work so hard tonight, these people will talk about my skills for years. They’ll be nostalgic for that amazing coat-taker for years to come!”
“Good. I’ll see you later.” She waved and walked down the hall.
They held the Jingle Ball in one of those old, grand hotels built in the e
arly eighteen-hundreds. I wasn’t joking about Dolly Madison haunting it. The place probably had lots of ghosts, which made walking farther back into the dark closet less appealing.
The closet was a compact room with several racks filled with wooden hangers, mainly because the rich didn’t approve of wire. In the back, it extended to the corner. There was a miniscule hallway. I could see a hint of it, but the hallway disappeared into darkness.
A chill went up my spine, wondering if it led to a room where bodies were stashed in the olden days. There were always hidden rooms and entrances in these types of places—at least from what I had seen on Ghost Nation. I loved that show and secretly wanted to stay in one of the old haunted buildings they explored. That would be a cool, fun career . . .
As I imagined what sort of ghosts would haunt The Benjamin, another noise came from the back of the closet. This time, it was loud and clear.
“I knew it.” I leaned out the Dutch door, but my sister had disappeared.
It was up to me to find the ghost. I swallowed and pressed my hands down the front of my thick navy sweater with the hole in the back of the neck. My sister complained about the old sweater, but she was happy I wore a skirt. I broke out my festive reindeer skirt. It was frilly and fun and perfect for a holiday ball.
I wiped my hands on my outfit, but they kept sweating.
“It’s okay, Julia. You got this. It’s just a ghost. What’s the worst that could happen? It could fly through me. It couldn’t kill me. Right?”
I nibbled my lip, wondering if ghosts had the power to kill.
I scanned the wall for lights and found one dingy lamp that sat on a stool near the small hall. Once I switched it on, I could see the hall ran only about five feet, and there was a small door. It was short and wide, and if I were to go through it, I’d be forced to bend over.
The worn, wooden floor creaked as I took each step, adding to my uneasiness.
“Just big enough to push bodies through,” I whispered to myself as I frantically glanced around for something to protect myself against the spirits. I needed some holy water or a cross or garlic.