What I did know was that I was going to get them back, and that I didn’t intend to leave anyone breathing afterwards.
Chapter 10
Sonya
L ayla and I both came around while we were tied up and in the back of a vehicle. It had been pitch black with no light even coming in from the front, which appeared to have a piece of board in place to separate the front from the back.
We’d whispered to each other as quietly as we could, knowing that there was no hope of escape at that precise moment. We couldn’t even stop ourselves rolling or bouncing with the movement of the car.
I don’t know how long we drove for, and I couldn’t remember all of the turns that were taken like in the movies. They made it seem so easy, but when you were scared the fuck out of your mind, and in a vehicle with fuck knows who and it was pitch black? No fucking way!
After a while the van started to slow down, and we could hear murmuring coming from the front, so we both closed our eyes and tried to slow our breathing as much as we could. Again, it looked so easy in the movies, but in real life you’re aware of what you’re doing, so it was easy for your brain to start screaming that you needed to breathe how your adrenalin demanded you to. At least, I think that’s how it worked? Or was it that your brain just took over and decided to fuck with you that little bit more? Either way, we both ended up gasping for oxygen.
Just then the door opened, and I relaxed my body as much as I could, begging my brain not to be an asshole.
“Take ‘em inside,” a deep voice ordered. The orders this time didn’t give me the warm and fuzzies, they just made me pissed.
I was lifted and dumped over a shoulder again, bouncing with every step that the guy took. The knock to my head had made me nauseous, but the bouncing and gravity wreaking havoc on the contents of my stomach added to it. It would be karma if I puked down the back of this guy, but then he’d know that I was awake. Or could you just puke while you were unconscious? We’d all heard of drunk people doing it and the disasters that came about as a result, but what if no alcohol was involved? And if I was upside down, would it come out of my nose? What about those people who could cry milk when they held their noses shut and tensed hard enough – would I cry puke?
For once, my curiosity was beneficial because it took my mind off my breathing so that I didn’t gasp or give my conscious state away.
A door opened and the asshole carrying me stepped up onto a wooden floor. Was he wearing fucking tap shoes? That’s what it sounded like as he click-clacked across the floor. Or maybe it was stilettos? Peeking open an eye slightly to check, I was disappointed when just normal black boots showed on his feet. Maybe he had a Fred Astaire obsession and tap danced in his spare time?
Just my fucking luck to get assaulted and rudely kidnapped - in the middle of a tacky horror movie with boobs bouncing on the screen – by someone who had an Easter Parade obsession. It was such a paradox! There I am hiding from the masked machete slasher with tits popping out of a chick’s bra bouncing on the screen, and in comes a thug who was singing in the fucking rain!
I repeat - Just my fucking luck!
The world tilted on its axis again as he swung me back up over his shoulder and dropped me onto the floor – the hard, wooden floor. Not even a blanket.
“Let me drop this one and we’ll wait for him to say what the fuck we’re doing now,” another voice said, and then there was another thud. Poor Layla!
I didn’t move until I heard them walk away and the door closed with a click, then my eyes snapped open and I saw Layla looking back at me. At least this place had a window so there was light, and we could see around us.
“If you can shift and put your hand inside the right cup of my bra, you’ll find…” Layla whispered, but I cut her off.
“Dude, no! Keep your boobies to yourself. We need to get out of here, not act out ‘Kidnapped Chicks Gone Wild’!” How could she think of shit like that at a time like this?
“Shut up, saggy flaps,” she snapped.
“Putrid pussy breath,” I volleyed back.
“Enough,” she hissed. “Shut up and listen to me.” I took a deep breath, readying myself for slaying her verbally because that’s all I could do with my hands tied behind my back. “When all of the shit started, we were given lessons and tips in how to defend ourselves. Mark Montgomery, Maya’s cousin, gave me a special blade that could be put in a shoe, a purse…or a bra!”
Ding, ding, ding. I was so putting my hand on her booby!
Not even waiting for any more explanations from her, I shifted myself round as quietly as I could and ended up with my ass in her face and my head on her vagina.
“If you give me herpes on the back of my head, I’ll shave you bald,” I warned her.
“If you fart right now, I’ll make you eat your own rectum,” she growled back.
We were now at a vagina and ass impasse. If we had gloves, would we slap each other’s faces? In this position, my butt cheeks and her vaggy flaps were kind of doing the job for us.
As I tried to bend my wrist back the way and block out what I was now holding in my hand, I lectured myself about never doing gymnastics or joining Cirque du Soleil so that I could have been a contortionist. It would have made this so much easier. As it was, I had to move so that my ass was now braced fully on her chin, one leg either side of her head, making it so that I was now sitting on her face – obviously lying down at the same time.
This should totally be a movie! The thought made me giggle slightly, but Layla biting my butt cheek snapped me out of it.
I grabbed onto something hard, hoping to dear God that it wasn’t her nipple, and pulled. When she didn’t scream, and it came away in my hand, I breathed a sigh of relief and shifted off her, back onto the floor.
“Now, cut through your ropes.”
Again, you needed to be a contortionist for this shit, but I aimed the blade up the way and moved my hand as much as I could.
“You know,” I murmured as quietly as I could, “you could have cut your tit off with this.”
She snorted and kicked me. “No, I had a special pocket sewn in.”
Smart!
I could feel the ropes giving slightly with each movement, but just as I thought I really was getting somewhere, the door opened, and someone walked in.
Both Layla and I resumed our possum poses as he walked around us. The twat hadn’t turned on the light, so maybe we’d get lucky and he wouldn’t notice what we’d been up to.
“Nah, they’re still out. Musta knocked ‘em good!”
I’ll knock you, dick face. In fact, I’ll knock your dick so far up your ass that…
“Hey, didn’t we lie them down with their heads in the same direction?” Another voice asked.
Fuck. Fuckity, fuck, fuck, fuckerson, fuck from fucksville!
“Uh, nah I don’t think so?” Maybe I’d take it easier on this one, show him some mercy. “Maybe we did it this way so that one was up close to the pussy?” he laughed at his own lack of wit. “Eh, so long as they both have tits and a cunt, I’m not worried. What they gonna do tied up and shit?”
More than you know, asshole!
Tom
It had been four hours since she’d been taken, and we were still sitting in the same place doing fuck all. I felt bad about the shit that I’d given Brett when Sabine had been snatched and we had to fly to London to get her. If I’d known the soul wrenching agony that being in this situation caused, I’d have hugged him. Then again, I wasn’t really one for hugging my brothers, but if I had, he could have punched me and that would have at least made him feel better.
I’d looked into Ray Lagan’s finances and nothing stood out. He didn’t use his cards or accounts to buy plane tickets, he didn’t use them to buy weapons, there had been no major payments in or out – he was a boring motherfucker who paid his bills on time and bought groceries.
My cousins had arrived an hour ago and had wisely stayed away from me while I looked into things.
I wasn’t in the state of mind where I could put up with bullshit of any form.
“Right, shake your tinsel makers boys. We’re going!” Tony yelled as he walked into the house.
Looking up, my jaw dropped when I looked him over. He looked like a cross between Rambo and a glittery angel.
Strapped to his chest was ammunition and he had a fanny pack on. His face had been painted in a camouflage pattern in what looked like glittery makeup too.
Looking behind him at my cousins, they were in much the same state, except they had foregone the fanny pack and had instead stuffed their pockets with whatever the fuck it would have held for them.
Jesus Christ!
Coleman walked in with a map and laid it out on the table in the middle of the room. This was familiar for me in so many ways. Every time one of us got snatched, this is what happened. That fucking map!
I’d let Sonya down. I’d promised that she’d be safe here, and then she’d been taken, and they were doing fuck knows what to her at that exact moment. The thought was sickening!
“Hey, focus here please!” Tate clapped under my nose, making my head jerk up because he was closer to it than was safe.
As Coleman laid out different areas and we looked at what properties were in them that they could be held at, I started to feel that anger and rage taking over again. I’d welcome this feeling over the guilt and desolation of before. In fact, just thinking that I’d been weak like that when she needed me made the rage build even more.
“Are we ready?” Tony yelled, holding Gramps’ leather paddle in the air and bringing it down on his hand with an almighty smack. The whimper that followed was accompanied by a trembling lower lip.
“Is he holding a…” Archer asked, looking at the paddle now shaking away in Tony’s non-abused hand.
“It’s my fly swatter,” Gramps informed him proudly. “Grams bought it for me and I take it everywhere. Those little bastards breed faster than we do.”
“Aces!” Tate crowed, grabbing it out of Tony’s hand and smacking it on his thigh. His eyes widened, and his mouth opened at the sting as he brought it up to his face to look at it more closely. “Please tell me y’all are telling the truth when you say you only use it to kill flies!”
“I got it from a French site for old people called Bon d’Age. Tony introduced me to it! I even got one of these porch swings – check it!” He pulled up a photo on the screen of his phone of Grams with her legs in the stirrups, swinging away, legs akimbo.
“Fuck me,” Noah whispered in horror.
All three of them turned their eyes on Tony who gulped and took a step back. Yeah, wait until they saw it in real life.
“If we’re done discussing your kinky fucking shit,” Coleman growled before I could lose my mind. “Let’s get the fuck going.”
Chapter 11
Sonya
“O kay, do me,” Layla did an impression of a turtle stranded on its back as she tried to sit up with her hands still tied behind her back. What she’d said and how she looked was fucking hilarious and I couldn’t stifle the chuckle that came out of me. “Shut the hell up and help me,” she hissed. “You saggy cow!”
“If this slips - I’ll make sure it hits your asshole’s neighbor!” It didn’t matter what shit storm we were in, I would do it and make sure that she had to run miles like that.
Shooting me a final glare, she turned away and I got back to cutting her ropes. Mark might have given her a blade, but when it was the size of a pinky finger and not sharp, it took for freaking ever to do anything with it.
After a couple of minutes, the ropes started to give enough for her to get her wrists free.
“Now what do we do?” she asked, looking out of the window. “All that’s out there are trees!”
“What did you expect? The Eiffel Tower?” I mean really, we’d driven here, and it was a wooden cabin – what else would be around here?
I’ll blame the darkness for not seeing her finger before it flicked me right on the nipple, but I took full credit for the elbow to her tit that she got in return.
Hearing voices and the tappity-tap of Fred Astaire coming closer to the door, we quickly opened the window and I let Layla scramble out first. Once she’d gone as far as she could, and her ass got stuck, I gave her a brutal shove and would have cheered when I heard the thud as she hit the ground, winding herself. Too bad, I was already most of the way out by that point because I wasn’t waiting around for anyone. If she didn’t move, she was going to be the cushioning for my fall.
Sadly, she moved at the last second and I hit the ground face first. Not even giving the stinging on my chin a second thought, we sprung up and started running for the trees.
“Are we going the right way?” she hissed as we ducked under branches. One caught onto her top and ripped it down the middle. Because she was still moving forward, the material was pulled off her arms – leaving her in just her bra.
“Oh, I’m sorry - I left my GPS in my other pants! How the fuck would I know?” There was never a situation where sarcasm couldn’t be used – fact! Like at funerals where some idiot asked each and every time – what do you think they’d have thought of the service? Why don’t we ask them? But even with her boobies bouncing as we continued running, I couldn’t find it in me to not use it right now.
Her giggle shocked me. Normally, she’d be turning around and putting me in a head lock. “I’m like a chick in a horror movie,” she snorted as she ran and pointed to the ricocheting bazoombas that were holding on for dear life in her bra. “The music’s changed and it’s dark too,” she chortled.
I was so distracted by what she was doing, that I never saw the next branch coming my way. The only heads up that I had was the stinging in my cheek as it connected, knocking me off my feet. Before I could get back up again, hands had grabbed my shoulders and deep voices were shouting behind me.
I got another hit to the face for my struggles and this time when the darkness started to take over, all I could think was – oh, fuck it!
I read a book once where the chick in it was kidnapped and knocked unconscious. In the dialogue she’d said that she didn’t know how much time had passed. Duh, fucking obviously – how do you keep track of time when you’re unconscious? I sure as shit couldn’t. Jesus, I couldn’t even tell you if I’d eaten lunch today!
Shifting slightly, I winced as a multitude of sore places on my body made themselves known. What a bunch of pussies beating a girl when she’s out cold, and with tap dancing tacks on your shoes no less. So far, I had figured out that my ribs felt like I was being stabbed whenever I breathed, I was pretty certain that I had a broken wrist or arm which would make straightening my hair an absolute bitch and don’t even get me started on wiping my as…
A tapping on the window pulled me from that line of thought, but it was still true. I was right handed, wiping with the left was just gonna be impossible.
Looking over, I saw a face grinning at me. I almost shat my pants and screamed my head off until it lifted its finger to tell me to stay quiet, and then tilted its head slightly making it glitter. Was I being saved by someone out of Twilight? No wait, that was sunlight wasn’t it?
The grinning glittery face turned back to me and they started making random movements with their hands. For someone who had the shit beaten out of them, this was becoming really fucking irritating.
“I don’t speak dickhead,” I mouthed back, getting the okay hand gesture in return.
The window started to open slowly, and I winced when the noise sounded like a gunshot in the silence.
When it was open just enough for him to stick his head through, he whispered, “Yo – Tate!”
I swear to God, I thought he said Taint.
“Your name is Taint?”
Who named their kid that? Oh, I think of your dad every time I look at you and he’s such a ball sack that I’m gonna name you after him?
“Tate,” he growled, but I still just heard Taint. Shaking my head at him, I
sat still waiting for him to tell me who he was. And while he was at it, why he sparkled when the moonlight hit his face.
Sighing, he managed something that Layla had struggled to do, and she was half his size, and climbed his huge bulk through the window without getting stuck. Not that I’d have been able to help him. I’m pretty certain that my rib was piercing my tit.
Oh, maybe Tom and I would have matching nipple piercings? His would be the barbell, and mine would be a Flintstone style bone.
When he didn’t do anything else, I asked the billion-dollar question. “Who are you?”
Would one of the bad guys climb back into the house? Unlikely.
“Taint Townsend,” he offered out his hand, then realized that mine were tied behind my back – again. “Sorry. Anyway, I’m here to out you.” Just as he said that, he shifted. His face was now out of the moon light, so I wasn’t distracted by the sparkles and could focus on all of the ammunition on his body.
“Nice to meet you, Taint.”
“Tate,” he snapped, shifting and moving his hand down the way as he groaned.
“I will kick the living shit out of your nuts if you come near me like that,” I seethed.
“The fuck?” He looked down at where his hand was, figuring out what I meant. “I’m not gonna do that. You think I came here and crawled through that window that’s the size of Gramps’ ass hole just to do that?”
Wrinkling my nose at that mental image, and not wondering in the slightest how he knew that – no siree, I wasn’t touching that ever – I looked back down at his hand which was still moving around in his crotch area. What the hell did he expect me to think?
“Tony tried to get us to wear these fanny pack things,” he explained, and I heard the dunking of heavy things moving around with his hand. Impressive! “We just put it all in our pockets and now it’s digging into my nuts. I think it’s a flash light – no wait, that’s me. But that there is definitely a flash light and my left nard is about to burst.”
Providence Series Books 5-7 Page 29