by Zoey Parker
She pulled out of the lot, and I hopped in, cranking the truck quickly so I could follow. Still, I didn’t want it to be too obvious that I was following her. I took my time, keeping an eye on her to see which way she turned.
I stayed back, keeping an eye on her up ahead of me until we wound up in a ritzy neighborhood.
“There’s no way she lives in one of these houses by herself,” I told myself. “She has to live with her dad still.” I looked around at the large mini-mansions on either side of the road, most of them with brick or stone walls built around their properties.
There was no other traffic on the road. It was just the two of us, and hopefully, she was too emotionally distraught to notice that the same white pickup truck had been following behind her the whole time.
She pulled into a driveway cutting through an opening in a brick wall covered in ivy. The house was a white three-story brick home with white columns in front and black shutters on the windows. I knew I was in for a damn good payday by taking his daughter. I was going to get all the money I needed to open my own shop, and then some.
I waited in the street until I noticed she was getting out of the car. Then, I pulled in behind her, counting on her to recognize me and wait to see why I had followed her.
It worked. As I pulled into the driveway behind her, I caught her attention. She walked up toward the front of the truck and waited for me to get out, the look on her face telling me she was wondering why I was there. She had no idea.
I left the engine running as I got out.
“Maria, hey, is everything okay?” I walked up to her with an outstretched hand.
She was still crying. She sniffled and wiped a few fresh tears away from her eyes. “Yeah, everything’s fine. You didn’t just come by to ask me that, did you? What’s up?” She laughed, nervously, as she talked.
Her guard was down. It was the perfect opportunity.
“I just wanted to check on you. I saw how you stormed off. I called after you, but I guess you didn’t hear me,” I said, trying to stifle the adrenaline pumping through my veins so I could sound comforting. My body hummed with electricity. I put a hand on her shoulder.
“Really, thanks for your concern, but I’ll be okay,” she said, placing one of her soft, thin hands on mine.
That was when I sprang into action. I spun her around and wrapped my arm around her throat. She grabbed my arm with both hands as I pulled her back against my body.
“What are you doing?” she yelled before biting down on my arm and clawing at me with her sharp nails.
“Bitch,” I barked at her. I hadn’t expected her to be able to fight back like she was doing.
She tried to stomp on my feet and threw a couple of elbows back towards my gut. She kicked at me. “Let go,” she growled.
“Where the hell did you learn how to fight?” I asked her, trying to maneuver my legs through hers to take her down on the ground before we drew any unwanted attention to our little scuffle.
“Self-defense classes, you asshole,” she hissed.
Finally, I was able to get her down on the ground and into a chokehold. I pressed all of my weight against her body. She was smaller than I was. There was no excuse for how hard I was having to work to overpower her. I wrapped my legs around hers to hold her still.
Her body stiffened against mine, and as she fought she rubbed up against me. I felt guilty for the cheap thrill, but I chalked it up to simply getting a preview of what was in store for me later.
I pressed myself against her soft, round ass as my arms cut off her air. I held her in the grass and flowers next to the driveway until her body relaxed beneath me and her hands let go of my arm. I checked to make sure she’d just passed out. I didn’t want a body on my hands. I had never killed anyone, and I didn’t plan on getting started just yet.
“Damn, woman,” I said as I stood up, letting go of her. I rolled her over onto her side and went over to the bed of the truck, pulling rope and duct tape out of the toolbox mounted behind the cab.
I worked quickly to tape her mouth shut and tie her wrists behind her back. I tied her ankles together, too. The last thing I needed was for her to come to in the truck and start fighting with me.
“All right, Maria, we’re going for a ride,” I told my sleeping beauty as I picked her up and carried her around to the passenger side of the truck.
As I situated her, I kept an eye out for anyone in the house or coming to it. Someone like Kelly should have had security. I wanted to make sure I wasn’t being watched. I also wanted to avoid any surprises, like someone coming by the house to check on her for him.
I pulled the seatbelt across her and realized it was pretty obvious I had someone bound and gagged in the passenger side of the front seat. I pulled her hair down and roughed it up a bit, making sure it covered her face, hiding the duct tape. I leaned her head back so it looked like she was just asleep.
I closed the door and walked around to the front of the truck.
“That’ll have to do,” I said to myself. “Just avoid major roads and the cops.”
What the hell was I doing?
I climbed in on the driver side and backed out of the driveway. There wasn’t another car on the street as I started to drive my prize away. Then, my heart sank into my stomach as a black sedan with blacked out windows pulled off another street a couple of blocks back. I told myself it didn’t mean anything and kept my speed even as we drove away, so it wouldn’t look like I was fleeing anyone’s house.
I kept an eye on the black sedan in my rearview mirror as it turned into the driveway we’d just left. Talk about close calls. If we’d taken just a moment longer, we would have had company.
My adrenaline was pumping. This was typical Twisted Ghosts’ business, not typical Brawn business. It was the kind of job I usually avoided, and I was out doing it on my own, for my own benefit. My brothers would have been proud.
Chapter 3
Maria
I groaned as I opened my eyes. It took a moment for me to register the fact that I had no idea where I was. Once it hit me, my eyes opened wide.
“Hello?” I called out as my eyes frantically searched my surroundings.
First off, my arms were tied behind my back. I sat upright in a straight-back chair. My ankles were tied to the front legs. I stretched my aching neck and rocked my head back and forth, trying to loosen out the kinks.
“Hey, is anyone there?” I called again. “Where am I?”
I kept looking around. It looked like I was in some kind of small wooden cabin. I was in what must have been the living room. It was a really warm, almost cozy room. There was a rug on the floor and nice wooden furniture that looked hand-carved situated around a stone fireplace. The curtains were pulled closed in the windows, so I couldn’t tell where the cabin was.
I could see the warm glow of the light in the kitchen, and I could hear running water and the clang of dishes and silverware.
“Hey,” I called, trying not to sound panicked. At least I wasn’t with my father anymore, right? “Can you at least tell me where we are?”
The water stopped, and I saw the shadow of my captor moving around before he appeared around the corner.
“You’re fucking kidding me,” I blurted out as Mickey, the creepy, leering biker who worked for my father came into the living room, still drying his hands on an old hand towel.
“You’re awake,” he said, as if surprised. “How’s your head?”
“I can’t believe this. You have me tied to a chair in the middle wherever the hell we are, and you’re asking about my head?” I snapped.
“Well, I just figured since you were out for so long, your neck and head might be hurting. I’ve got some ibuprofen and water right here for you.” He nodded to a small glass of water and two small white pills next to it.
“Oh, yeah, like I’m going to let you drug me.”
“No, really, it’s just ibuprofen,” he said with a chuckle. “And the water’s filtered, so it’s
clean, too. If I wanted to knock you out, I wouldn’t have to drug you.”
I closed my mouth and looked around the room. He was right, apparently, even though I couldn’t quite remember how he’d managed to get me out to his cabin in the first place. I couldn’t remember much after walking out of my father’s office. Had he taken me from the parking lot, or had he followed me home?
“So, how much is my father paying you to do this?” I asked him finally.
“I’m sorry?” He cocked an eyebrow and tossed the hand towel over his shoulder. It was such a normal, domestic gesture for someone who was kidnapping his boss’s daughter, I almost laughed.
“I mean, you work for my dad, so it’s obvious he had you kidnap me to scare me after our little fight. So how much is he paying you to terrorize me?” I asked again. There was something oddly comforting about being kidnapped by one of my father’s employees. It was as if I didn’t have anything to really worry about. Once they grew tired of their little game, I was going to be allowed to go back and finish collecting my things so I could go stay with Elissa.
He sighed and walked over to me. He knelt down in front of me with his hands on my knees. For someone who had obviously overpowered me, his touch was soft and gentle. Nothing made any damn sense. None of it was adding up. Why the hell was my abductor offering me something for the pain in my head and neck? Why was he being gentle with me? Why wasn’t he trying to rough me up and cussing at me, demanding that I tell him shit about what I was planning on doing or about my father’s mob connections? Where was the violence?
“I think there’s been some confusion, Maria,” Mickey explained patiently. “I’m not kidnapping you for your father. I don’t work for him anymore.”
I laughed. What he was telling me made no sense whatsoever. “So, you mean to tell me that this morning, when I saw you leaving the trailer, you had just quit your job?”
He shook his head slowly. “No, I quit my job when I left the jobsite this morning to follow you home, where I wrestled you to the ground and choked you out,” he said nonchalantly.
A chill ran up my arms and down my spine. I shut my mouth and watched him carefully. Suddenly, he didn’t seem so safe. Suddenly, his nonchalant attitude seemed vaguely threatening. If what he was telling me was true, his peaceful, gentle demeanor was a possible sign that he had come to terms with what he was going to do to me a long time ago.
“What do you want?” I asked stiffly.
“I want your dad’s money,” he answered in that same gentle tone.
I laughed in his stupid face. I laughed as hard as I could. I played it up, cackling, barking, making a show of it so he would hopefully realize how damn ridiculous he sounded.
“What’s so funny?” he asked, standing up and stepping back from me.
“You. Do you actually think my father’s going to pay up? Do you honestly think he’s the type of man who responds well to ransom demands?” I continued laughing at him.
“Oh, he’ll pay up,” Mickey said as he reached back and grabbed the knife that was sitting on the little table next to the water and ibuprofen. “If he wants to see you again, he’ll pay.”
He put the knife under my chin, pressing the point against my skin.
“You don’t have it in you, Mickey,” I said. “You’re not a violent man. Otherwise you would have knocked me out instead of wrestling me to the ground and choking me out, like you’re some kind of pacifist.”
“I’ll do it,” he threatened. His voice shook, like he was saying it mainly to prove to himself how big and bad he was.
“I’m sure. Go ahead and do it, then. He’s not going to pay, and to be honest with you, he might not even send anyone to take you out for trying to kidnap me,” I told him.
“What are you talking about? Of course he’s going to pay the ransom. Are you saying he’s not going to want you back?” I could tell that what I’d said was really screwing up his plans.
“Think about it, man. You saw me when I came out of that office this morning, right? You saw how I looked. I was going home to pack my shit so I could get out of that house when you attacked me in the driveway.”
He pulled the knife back from my throat and set it back down on the end table. “What happened?” he asked.
“I went in a quit this morning.”
“You quit? You’re his daughter. You don’t just quit,” Mickey said, like it was the craziest idea he’d ever heard.
“Well, I did. And the bastard was so upset about it that he told me to go home and pack my things so I could get out of the house.”
Then, it occurred to me that someone was supposed to have been there to help me. If they had been there, they might have stopped Mickey. Or they might have redeemed my abductor by allowing him to display some of his prowess as a fighter.
“Hey, in speaking of the house,” I continued, “did you see anyone else there?”
“No, but a black sedan pulled into your driveway as I was leaving with you,” he replied.
“Damn. Just barely missed him. My father was sending someone around to make sure I actually did as I was told. I guess he was just a little too late, huh?” I laughed and shook my head.
“Yeah, I guess so.” Mickey chuckled.
“My dad’s an ass.”
“That he is.”
Our conversation stalled. I didn’t feel threatened by the biker. Annoyed maybe, because I was tied to a damn chair when I should have been on my way to Elissa’s so I could crash with her while I figured my life out, but whatever. We were both on the run from my father, so even though I was supposed to be his victim, we were sort of in the same boat.
And I got the feeling neither one of us really wanted to be in that boat, much less together.
“I’ll take that ibuprofen and water now, if the offer still stands,” I said after a moment. My neck and head were hurting so much I was starting to feel sick.
“Of course. Give me just a second though.” He walked into the kitchen and came back with one of those straws that bends near the top to make it easier to use.
I wanted to laugh, but I wasn’t sure how stable he was. After all, he had just kidnapped his boss’s daughter and was being incredibly polite to her in a cabin, probably in the middle of nowhere.
I was just waiting to hear the dueling banjos. Any minute now.
“I figure this will make it easier,” he said, putting the straw in the water. “Pills or water first?”
“Pills,” I said, stifling my amusement.
The water was nice and cool. I made him hold it until I drank the whole glass. It wasn’t much, but I felt like it was an awfully nice gesture.
“Now, this isn’t going to kill me, is it?” I asked, joking with him.
“I’ll let you know in a minute,” he said with a wink.
“You asshole,” I said, laughing.
He set the glass down and sat on the couch. “So, why’d you quit?” he asked.
“This can’t be happening,” I blurted out.
“Why not?”
“You’re supposed to be kidnapping me and holding me for ransom, not sitting here on the couch in front of your fireplace holding a perfectly normal conversation with me,” I explained. “It’s not right. It’s not the natural order of things, Mickey.”
“Well, it’s not an entirely normal conversation,” he reminded me. “You’re still tied to the chair, and I’m still going to present your father with the ransom notice demanding that he pay to have you safely returned. I still haven’t decided what I’m going to do if he doesn’t pay the ransom. I mean, I can’t keep you around forever, can I?”
I was dumbfounded. I blinked at him for several moments. Surely, he wasn’t serious about what he was telling me. Surely, he was going to give up when he realized just how futile his attempt at holding me for ransom was. I didn’t know what else to tell him to make him understand that there was no point in trying to get money out of my father for me. The man had kicked me out. He was disowning me. He had ab
andoned me, and this rough-and-tough biker didn’t seem like he had a mean bone in his body, certainly not mean enough to do anything to me if my father didn’t comply with his wishes.
“So, why did you quit?” he asked again.
“Does it matter at this point?” I asked him. “What’s done is done, and here I am now with you. Besides, can you untie me?”
“Not yet,” he said, and he got up to leave the room.