by Leah Holt
If only I could.
I shouldn't have let my curiosity get the best of me, I shouldn't have been so absent minded and intrude the way I had. I thought I needed to see what was going on.
But that was wrong, I had just made the biggest mistake of my life.
My eyes enlarged, lids thinning as I watched the scene unfold behind the glass.
A large man with deep black hair was hovering over another guy on the floor. Slipping his gray blazer off his arms, he rolled his sleeves up to his elbows as he kept speaking to the man on the ground.
“I won't pretend anymore, who I am will get me killed. But what you did. . .” Crouching down, he cracked his knuckles against his bear-sized palms. “What you did is unforgivable. I'm doing the world a favor, all you can hope is that the devil hasn't already signed his name to your papers.”
The man on his back had his hands up, holding them in front of his face. He wasn't speaking, simply shaking his head back and forth in protest. His lip was bleeding, a thin trickle of blood leaked tear shaped droplets onto the floor from a deep gouge across his cheek.
Sitting on his chest, the man with black hair lowered his hands, curling them around his throat. His arms tensed as the muscles rolled up in firm lumps, riddled with thick veins that pulsed under the skin.
Squeezing the neck of the man on the floor, I could see fear wash his skin in pale gray as his eyes popped out of his head and red bursts sprawled over the white like rivers on a map.
Is he. . . Oh my God, he's—
As the man scratched his fingers at his throat and tried to claw at the arms stealing the air from his lungs, his gaze slowly turned to mine.
Our eyes met, his silently pleading with me for help, begging for me to do something—anything.
Except, I just stood there, I did nothing. I was frozen in place, not even sure if what I was seeing was real. But it was real, it was happening right in front of my eyes as I spied from the shadows.
His breathing slowed down and his eyes glossed over as his fingers lost strength and fell to the floor.
He's dying.
No! Stop!
Let him go!
There was no way to prepare myself for that, to think that my curiosity would place the life of a man in my hands. I could have run away and called for help, I could have screamed and startled the killer enough to give that man a chance to fight back.
But I did nothing. I stood still as a statue as my own fears swept in, constricting around my muscles like a snake. I couldn't move, I couldn't speak or lift my arms.
My screams weren't making their way out, they went unheard, festering behind a wall of shock in my mind.
The man whose violence had snapped, whose temper had hit full volume, ticked his head over his shoulder, following the eyes of the guy under him.
Our eyes connected, his thinning into slits as his lip curled up, baring his teeth. Dropping the lifeless body, he lurched forward, taking long swift steps in my direction.
No.
No, no, no.
Fuck! What the hell do I do?
I need to hide!
Jerking my body back, I pressed against the brick, wanting to melt into it, wishing I could morph myself into the same hard stone so he wouldn't be able to see me.
My eyes scanned the alley, searching for something, anything; a box, a dumpster, a way out.
Frantically, I tried to run, I made every attempt to connect my brain to my legs and force them to do something. But it wasn't working, I was cemented to the tar as if they laid it down with me in it and it solidified around my feet.
My heart was racing inside my chest, my lungs were gasping for air just like the man on the floor. My head was twirling in scattered fragments and incomplete thoughts.
The idea to sprint away was there, the thought to snatch my phone out of my purse and dial the police was tingling the tips of my fingers.
It was too late.
A heavy hand grabbed the back of my neck, curling in deep and hard with enough pressure to cut any sound I might have made out of the air completely.
Gasping hard, I tried to take in a breath as he dragged me backwards, pulling me away from the street as quickly as he made it to me. My heels scraped the sidewalk as I kicked and dug my nails into his wrist, scraping them raw.
But I couldn't stop him.
Slamming the door behind us, he pushed me against the wall, staying silent for a moment and staring at the floor.
Pressing his free hand into the wall beside my head, his eyes flicked up to mine. “What did you see?” he asked, his tone scratchy and laced with threat.
I felt his breath wash down my cheek as his lips hovered dangerously close to my ear and his fingertips bit into my skin. His voice was thick and coarse, sending prickles over my body and making my heart hammer inside my chest.
What the hell do I do?
What the fuck do I say?
He knew I had seen him, he was well aware of what I had just witnessed. I didn't know if he actually expected an answer or if it was just a question he asked on impulse.
My muscles tensed, waiting for whatever was coming next. I knew what he was capable of with just his hands, and that thought scared me to death.
I didn't want to die, I wasn't ready for that to be my last night on earth. When people say their lives flash before their eyes in a moment of certain death, it was true. Only my flashes weren't of the life I had lived, they were of the life I wanted to see.
I wanted to finish college, I wanted to get a real job, I wanted a husband and a family and a house with the white picket fence. I wanted to feel what it was like to carry a child in my belly and watch them grow up. I wanted the chance to give them advice and help guide them through a world I had already traveled.
If this is how it's going to end for me, if I'm going to go out as the girl who ended up in the wrong place at the wrong time. . .
No! Think, think. Use you're fucking head, Perri!
Shaking my head, my eyes began to well up as tears balanced with grace on the thin edge of my lids. I could see the reflection of the tiny droplets as they perched beneath my eyes, teetering like a ballerina on her toes about to jump.
“I. . . I. . . I saw—” Thinking quickly, I tried to focus on him and his question. Not what had just happened, not what I had just witnessed or what I was about to lose. I focused on living, I focused on saying what I needed to in order to get out alive. “Nothing, I didn't see anything.” The words squeaked out, finding just enough lift to be heard.
“You're not a good liar, little girl.” The pads of his fingers dug in harder, sealing me in place. “You have no idea what you just got yourself into.”
I wanted to jerk myself free, but I was trapped; afraid to scream, afraid to run, afraid of him.
“I just want to go, let me go.”
“It's not that simple.” The weight of his breath fell heavy on my neck. “Fuck, why did you have to do that? Why did you have to look in here?” His eyes jumped between mine, darting back and forth in a rapid dance. “Fuck!” he yelled through grit teeth as he pounded his fist against the wall.
Wincing, my head whipped to the side. “I'm sorry, I didn't mean to.” Holding up my hands, I tried to push against him and shove him off me. But he was too big, too strong, I couldn't go anywhere.
“Sorry. . . Saying sorry doesn't help you, it doesn't help you at all.” The tips of his nails pierced the surface as he let out a deep growl. “Do you have any idea what you just did to yourself?”
Pepper spray! Use the pepper spray!
Shaking my head slightly, the words came out soft and delicate. “I really didn't mean to.” Slowly, I lowered my hand into the open pocket of my purse, trying to find the small bottle without moving too much. “I don't know you, I'm not even sure what I saw. You can just let me go.”
Gotcha. Twisting the bottle, I positioned my finger over the button, making sure I had it right.
“There's no going back now, you've already
seen too much. If I let you go, you'll run your little mouth off, you'll talk to people that don't need to hear what happened tonight.”
“I won't, I won't say anything.”
Laughing out loud, his eyes closed as his head tipped back. “Yeah, I don't believe that for one second.”
“Fuck you,” I said under my breath as I jerked my hand from my bag and hit the button on the blue can.
The spray came out in a thick heavy stream, spreading out in a red cloud around us. Coughing, I tried to cover my mouth and nose with my free hand and continued to let it fly.
“What the fuck!” Yelling, he gripped my throat tighter, completely opposite of what I expected him to do. Wiping his face with his forearm, he struggled to breath, coughing hard. “That was a stupid fucking thing for you to do.” Pointing his finger in my face, a small smile perched on his lips. “Stupid little girl.”
I wanted to scream in his face, tell him that he was wrong and to let me go. But I couldn't talk, his hand was wrapped too tightly around my throat.
Sounds escaped my lips, they were raspy, gurgling noises, spitting and seeping like a broken faucet, but they weren't my voice.
Looking down on me with watery eyes and red streaks across his face, his smirk spread wider. “Nice try though, I'll give you that much.”
My eyes were stinging, my chest burning from lack of oxygen and the hot dust I had just taken in. Softening his gaze, he let his head drift over his shoulder then glanced down at his watch.
Looking at the door, his eyes rolled towards the back of the room. “Alright, here's what's going to happen—”
Before he could finish what he was saying, the door behind us split open, crashing into the wall.
Two men loomed in the doorway, shoulder to shoulder, eyes gleaming with a deadly stare. The guy on the left was tall and thin, with his hair buzzed short, squared on the top like he had once been a soldier.
But the look in his eyes was all I needed to know he was far from some war hero. The black orbs reflected nothing; no life, no emotions, no soul.
Oh shit. . .
The other man beside him was a little shorter. He looked older with deep wrinkles framing the corners of his mouth and hair that was a perfect mix of brown and gray.
“What the fuck is going on? Who the hell is this? Where the hell did she come from?” the older man asked, pointing in my direction. “You alright, Machi?”
The man he called Machi held me still, keeping his eyes fixed on mine, not even acknowledging the question. “Well? Where are they?”
“They're gone, both girls are gone. I think they took off through the woods behind McCarther's place.” The taller man stepped in first, his lip twitching as he spoke. “We can go after them if we leave now, before they get too far.”
Cocking his head over his shoulder, Machi's deep black hair splashed across his forehead as a single bead of red sweat trickled down over his temple. “Doesn't matter, let them go, they're not worth the trouble.”
“What about her?” The tall man licked his lips, eyeing me like a piece of meat. “You want me to take care of her? I can, I wouldn't mind being the one to bring her in.”
“You don't fucking touch her.” Peeling me off the wall, he walked me forward, holding my body out like a fresh catch. “We still have something to bring back, so let's go.”
Bring back? Is he talking about me?
Where is he taking me?
“What about him?” Pointing to the lifeless body on the floor, the man nodded his head. “Want us to clean it up?”
“Fuck that, leave him to rot. Let someone else clean up that waste of life.” Bending down, he snatched his jacket off the floor and tucked it under his arm.
Machi shoved me forward as he walked with firm, demanding steps, never looking back at the body on the floor, as if that man never existed to begin with. He didn't think twice about what he had done, it didn't seem to phase him at all that he had just taken the life of another.
And he didn't think twice about taking me with him.
What kind of monster is this man?
The empty gaze in his eyes told me he was pure evil, that life meant nothing to him, that stealing was easy and mindless. He was a cold-hearted killer; a killer I stumbled upon, a killer who now had me firmly in his grasp.
His body pressed against mine as he kept me pinned against his hard chest. “This is your lucky day, I have a solution to our little problem.” Slipping his hand into my hair, he curled his fingers into the roots and yanked my head back. I sensed his eyes as they looked me over, running up and down my body. “You're not going to like it, but it will do one thing. . .” Pausing, his mouth traced the shell of my ear as he whispered. “It will keep you alive.”
Shivering to his words, a single tear rolled down my cheek, slipping over my mouth. My lip singed with heat, sizzling from the pepper spray still lingering on my skin. Wiping my lips with the back of my hand, I took in a deep breath, but it did nothing to stop me from crying.
I was trapped, I was captured in the hands of death, and there was nothing I could do to stop it.
Fear—true fear—was something people rarely ever experienced. You can feel afraid, you can feel your nerves come to life and your stomach knot up like twisted rope, you can break out in a cold sweat and think you're about to faint; but none of that is fear.
Fear is when you can't breathe because you don't remember how to, fear is when you can't think because your brain has shutdown and won't let you truly observe what is happening around you.
Fear is feeling every nerve explode throughout your body as the uncertainty of what might lie ahead could literally mean life or death.
I felt nothing but fear right then.
And I tasted it with a mouth full of shame that my curiosity had brought me into the hands of that man.
Nothing would ever be the same.
Stepping out onto the dark street, Machi walked me towards a dark green car with windows that were blacker than night itself.
Oh my God. . . It's the same car from before.
“Pop the trunk, Z.”
“No. No, no no,” I mumbled as I tried to drop to the ground and back away from the rear of the car. “Don't do this, you don't want to do this.”
“You're right. . .” Lifting me up by the hair at the base of my neck, Machi curled his hands under the back of my legs and swooped me off the ground. “This wasn't meant for you, but I don't have much of a choice now, do I?” Dropping me into the trunk, his eyes stayed heavily trapped on mine. “Tie her up.”
Tears continued to fall effortlessly as I was driven away from the alley, away from home, away from safety. A blindfold covered my eyes and my wrists were tied behind my back, wrapped repeatedly in nylon rope.
The hot and stuffy trunk made it hard to breathe, forcing me to take slow deep breaths. I tried to wriggle free, rocking my hands back and forth with as much force as I could, but all it did was turn my skin raw.
What the hell is going to happen to me?
Where are they taking me?
What are they going to do with me?
There were so many unknowns, so much I couldn't possibly understand about the men who stole me, who had packaged me up in the trunk like a piece of luggage.
I had no idea who they were or what they were doing. I didn't know if they were going to rape me, kill me, or. . . Both.
All I could do was cry, allowing the blindfold to suck up my tears before they stained my cheeks.
I just want to go home.
Chapter Two
Imperial
My body bumped and bounced as the tires hit potholes and uneven pavement. The engine roared, hitting high notes as the gas was pressed hard, causing me to shift forward and slam into the hard metal walls.
Trying to slip my hands under my legs to pull them in front, my shoulder cramped up and felt like it was going to pop out of the socket.
Cringing in pain, I flopped onto my back with a hard grunt. Damn it!
I couldn't keep pushing it, I had to stop before I hurt myself anymore. It wouldn't do me any good to lose the use of my arms.
They're already useless.
The high-pitched squeal of brakes hit my ears as the car slowed to a stop. None of the men talked to each other, no one said a word. There was an eerie silence that encased my body, making every unknown press down on me like the weight of a collapsed building.
Turning my face up to the trunk lid, my eyes were open wide under the blackness of the blindfold, just waiting. I laid there, thinking about my fate, wondering if I'd live to see another day.
I heard the doors open and felt the car vibrate as they shut. The sound of feet crunching on gravel grew louder as the steps closed in on the back of the car.
All my muscles began to shake violently, buzzing with electric snaps that flowed from head to toe. I felt cold and hot, small and weak, I felt vulnerable.
As much as I didn't want to be in that trunk, there was a certain level of safety being alone inside. I was still alive, I was still breathing, thinking, feeling. I was away from them.
But once they opened the trunk, once their faces loomed over my trapped body, all that safety would disappear.
I would be at the mercy of the men who could kill without regret, I wouldn't have any way to protect myself or stop them from doing whatever the hell they had planned.
The trunk lid popped open, filling my chest with fresh air that was briny and cold. Inhaling a huge breath, my lungs burned to be cleansed, to be fed what they needed. I could still smell the hot pepper, I could still feel the fire in my nose and the heat in my chest.
Listening closely, I could hear waves crashing around us as a chill from the breeze rolled over my body and deposited salty air onto my skin.
The ocean, that's miles away from home.
A hand came in hard, startling me as it gripped my arm. Machi spoke low and stern. “Let's go.” Hoisting me up, he pulled me out and onto my feet. “In case you're thinking of it, if you want to scream, be my guest. No one's going to hear you.”
Crunching the sand under my feet, my shoulders snapped up, firming my back as his hand curled around my arm. His fingers were warm, sizzling my skin like boiling water.