Rand doesn’t say anything for a few seconds, but I can still hear him breathing.
“Rand, I’m really sorry about this, but you deserve someone who loves you back. We just aren’t right for each other.”
“This doesn’t make any sense. Last night we made love the entire night and you said you loved me. How can those feelings just disappear?” Great. Now my mom knows I was out fornicating all night while she was missing. How humiliating. I look over to her and she shrugs her shoulders like it’s no big deal. Mom and I are tight, but her knowing the intimate details of my sex life is a little too tight.
“Rand, don’t make this harder than it already is. I don’t know why, I just don’t love you. Don’t make such an issue out of it. Just move on.”
I hear him draw in a sharp breath. Like something just came to him. Is he finally catching all of the telepathic messages I’ve been sending his way.
“So what about the bracelet?” Okay, apparently not.
“I’ll mail it back to you,” I answer, already grieving over the loss of my only piece of Tiffany jewelry.
“Good, I want to give it to someone who deserves it,” he snaps back. Ouch!
“Okay, I guess that’s it then,” I say, trying not to cry.
I can’t believe how quickly Rand gave up on me. But at least I don’t have to worry about Miss Hott getting to him. She’s wearing a huge smile while making a grotesque slicing motion across her thick throat. This is obviously her subtle way of telling me to wrap it up.
“Yeah, Aspen. I guess that’s about it. You don’t love me. You never did,” Rand says, heartbroken. “I want you to know I’m not mad though. You’ll always be my little harpy.” Then he clicks off.
He figured it out! My gorgeous, brilliant, sexually gifted, rich boyfriend figured it out! And he even reminded me about the knife. How I forgot I had a three-inch serrated blade between my butt cheeks I’m not sure, but now I can work on getting the four of us out of here or at least buy some time until Rand sends help.
“What a stupid nickname,” Miss Hott comments on the knife’s name. I want to tell her it won’t be so stupid when I plunge it into her heart. But I’ve got to keep up the act of being upset. I start crying hysterically. Then I get another one of my brilliant ideas.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
I start breathing in and out really heavy. Miss Hott is busy chugging out of a champagne bottle she brought downstairs with her. She isn’t paying any attention to me. Mom’s eyes go huge, but I wink at her so she knows it’s all part of my master plan. I try to remember how scary I sounded the night of the bonfire. I start huffing and puffing like my life depends on it, which actually it kind of does. She finally takes a break from the bottle.
“Oh, hell, no. You aren’t going out that easy.” She takes off waddling up the stairs as fast as her chubby legs will take her. Which is just what I was hoping for. I wiggle around in my chair, trying to lodge the knife off my thong. It moves just enough that I can shove my duct-taped hands down the back of my pants and grab it. I can hear Miss Hott’s heavy footfalls upstairs as she rushes around looking for the inhaler that I now know she stole.
I try to throw the knife across the floor, but it lands under my chair. I start to freak out. Then I realize that this whole time my legs weren’t bound. This chair is so little I can just stand up. I hear her plodding down the first few steps. Quickly, I stand up and kick the knife over to Mom. It slides right into the middle of their duct-taped circle. I slam myself back down and break a leg off my chair. I remember to start huffing and puffing again just as Miss Hott makes her appearance with my missing inhaler. I should have known Angel didn’t take it. She just isn’t that diabolical.
The girls try to act normal and I can’t tell if any of them were able to reach the knife or not. I balance myself precariously so that Miss Hott doesn’t notice the broken chair leg. She comes over and shakes my inhaler. I open my mouth while she squirts a shot of albuterol in. I try not to inhale it because it makes me all shaky and crazy feeling if I’m not really having an attack. I need to be on my toes in case one of the girls gets loose, then we can gang up on her.
I make a big show of getting my normal breathing back. Miss Hott looks concerned. She offers me another shot, but I refuse.
“I’m fine, thank you.”
“You gave me a little scare there.” She pops something into her mouth. I see now that while she was busting her fat ass getting my inhaler she also had enough time to pick up the box of chocolates that I brought. Although this seriously pisses me off, it is also a very good thing. We might actually make it out of here alive. I had Miss Hott pegged for a stress eater, and by the way she is shoving those chocolates in, I know I was right. The girls are all watching her, drooling. I really hope she doesn’t offer them any or they will be able to add explosive diarrhea to the list of reasons why they hate me.
“You didn’t really want to hurt me when you stole my inhaler, did you?” I ask, trying to get some dialogue flowing again.
“I didn’t want you to die of an asthma attack, if that’s what you mean. I just thought you might need it then when you couldn’t find it, you’d leave the bonfire, and that’s when I could snatch you. You see how well it worked,” she says, pointing to Angel with a chocolate-covered fingertip.
“So, if you would have succeeded in kidnapping me first, what were you going to do with me?”
“I just wanted to keep you down here for a few days and make you miss the dance. I knew you were going to be crowned homecoming queen, and I wanted you to miss the one thing you had been looking forward to your entire life. You never would have known it was me. A few days later I would have let you go. I just wanted to mess up that charmed life a little bit.”
“I think you’ve gotten a little bit off track, don’t you? Now you’ve kidnapped four people and we all know it was you.”
I sneak a glance over at Mom. It doesn’t look like anyone was able to get the knife. I’m just going to try and keep her talking until Rand finds us.
“Everything would have been fine if this one,” she says, pointing toward Angel again, “wouldn’t have rigged the queen contest. Things just went downhill after that. Then I had a brilliant plan to frame Bob Lowe for the whole thing, but you had to go and screw that up before I had time to smuggle these three into his house.”
“Why would you want to frame Mr. Lowe?” I ask, even though I know exactly why.
“You’ve seen the way he looks at me. Like I’m the most disgusting thing that ever walked the planet. Besides, he’s a freak. I know you saw his little ‘collection.’ A person like that doesn’t belong in the school system.”
I am about to point out that she isn’t exactly the spokesperson for sanity and probably isn’t the best person to be mentoring young students either, but I figure I better not screw up the mellow vibe we’ve got going. The chocolate has kicked in her endorphins like magic, now if the eyedrops would just kick in I could run over and get the knife and get us all the hell out of here.
“You can still let us go, you know.” All four of us nod our heads yes.
“Oh, sure. I’m sure that you would all testify that I was perfectly sane and should be set free. Right?”
“I’m not going to lie. I think you need help. You need someone to help you see that you are more than just a number on the scale.”
“What do you know?” she asks, shoving another handful of chocolate in her mouth and following it up with a champagne chaser.
“You have a killer sense of style, and I’ve always admired your updo’s.” I answer honestly.
She puts a meaty paw up to her hair and caresses it a bit with a smile on her face. I hear something coming from the girl’s side of the room. It sounds like a knife cutting through duct tape.
“I was really serious about the seashell art. It is super cool, and I don’t usually like that kind of thing, either,” I shout to mask the sound of the tape being cut.
“I’m not deaf, Asp
en.”
“What are you talking about?” I shout, hoping she’ll just think she’s losing it. She gets a puzzled look on her face then goes back to guzzling her champagne.
“Why did you take the picture of Rand and me?” I am honestly curious to know her answer.
She wipes her mouth on the back of her hand and says, “I thought the embarrassment would kill you, then I wouldn’t have to worry about trying to kidnap you. How was I supposed to know that this would be the week you would choose to have a total personality transformation and actually become a person with a soul?”
Jeez! Harsh much?
“Rand has definitely made me a better person. You were right when you said that I don’t deserve him.”
I see one of my mom’s shoulders suddenly jerk back. I think she is partly free. I just have to keep up the therapy session a little bit longer.
“You’re not completely horrible,” she says, surprising me. “After all, you turned down the tiara when I tried to give it to you.” I hear a muffled “what?” come from behind Angel’s duct-taped mouth as she learns this.
“But Amy nearly grabbed the damn thing out of my hot little hands.” She laughs. Angel tries to kick at Amy, but can’t reach her. I wish Angel would quit screwing around and worry about getting out of here alive instead of that damn tiara.
“You know what is really funny?” Miss Hott laughs.
“What?”
“Amy had the fewest votes. I only said she won because I figured you would be so jealous of her and Rand that you’d accept it after all. Pippi came in third and Tobi was fourth. Amy only had like thirty votes. Two less votes and Melinda Paxton would have been a princess instead of Amy.”
I turn to give Amy the evil eye. Her mascara is already forming black streaks down her cheeks. All of this drama over a fake-ass rhinestone tiara! I’d love to rip it off Amy’s head and throw it out the window.
Mom starts to cough uncontrollably through her duct tape. I have a feeling it is about to be on. I slip into my kick-ass heroine mode and get things started.
“Miss Hott, I think Mom is choking on her spit. Hurry, help her.”
Miss Hott looks alarmed and rushes to Mom. She pulls her duct tape off and before she knows what hit her Mom rises up off the chair and gives her a roundhouse to the face. Damn! I guess those self-defense classes paid off after all. I struggle to my feet and run up behind a dazed Miss Hott. I kick her square in the hibiscus. This knocks her off her Choos and she ends up eating some cement. Mom jumps on her and pulls Miss Hott’s arms around to her back. Mom holds her while I attempt to find my cell in her muu muu pockets. My phone is nowhere to be found. Her enormous gut probably swallowed it whole.
“I’ll run upstairs and get her phone,” I yell. I’m about to start climbing the basement stairs with the dinky chair still attached to my arms when Mom starts to lose control.
Miss Hott starts heaving her body up and down. Mom looks like she’s riding the fake bull at The Steak Rodeo, and she’s about to get bucked off. I run back over and try to find some kind of weapon. I spot a plugged in glue gun sitting on the craft table. I put my face down on the craft table and nudge the cool handle of the glue gun with my chin until it falls off the table. Mom grabs it and squeezes hot glue all over Miss Hott’s face and fabulous updo.
“That’s for calling in a bomb threat and me never getting to wear my prom dress. I know it was you, you crazy bitch!” Mom screams, squeezing more hot glue onto Miss Hott’s face.
Miss Hott is screaming like a cat in heat. She reaches an elbow back and clocks Mom right in the face.
Mom falls back and slams her head on the craft table. She falls to the floor with a groan and then nothing. I want to run to her, but Miss Hott is trying to get up. I try to kick her in the face, but with no shoes on it hurts me more than it does her. After a few seconds of struggling like a turtle on its back she gets to her feet. If I thought she looked crazy before, the hot-glued hair and traces of blood coming out of her nose really paint a Hannibal Lecter picture. She is crazy angry. I look to Angel and Amy for help, but Amy is still completely tied up and Angel only managed to get one arm free. She is using her free arm to try and grab the tiara off Amy’s head. I am so going to kick her ass if we get out of this alive.
I take off running across the basement and get halfway up the stairs before I hear a loud cracking sound and everything goes black.
* * * *
My head hurts. I’m not talking about some little PMS headache. I’m talking somebody took an ax handle and cracked me in the back of the head. I might have brain damage. I’m thinking pretty clearly though so I might be okay.
I’m sitting in my tiny chair again, but this time I’m duct taped to a beam so that I can’t stand up. Mom is still unconscious on the floor and I can’t tell if she is breathing or not. Amy and Angel are staring wide-eyed in my direction as if they have just realized the gravity of our situation. Miss Hott is nowhere to be found.
“Where’s the knife?” I ask the girls.
They both shake their heads no. Great. I have no idea how much time has passed since I talked to Rand, but I know that Miss Hott is going to blow like Mount St. Helens and soon. Please let him find us.
The basement door swings open and a blinding light hits my eyes. Miss Hott saunters down the stairs in a hideous red dress that could double for the circus big-top tent. She is carrying the box of chocolate, the bottle of champagne, and clipped to her ribbon belt is my knife. Crap. Our only hope now is that the eyedrops will kick in and Mom will wake up and free us. I really thought Miss Hott would have the Johnny Quicksteps by now, but I didn’t take into consideration her girth when injecting the eyedrops. I probably should have used twice as much since she is twice as big as a normal person. If Rand doesn’t find us soon, we’re screwed.
Miss Hott struts right in front of me and does a little twirl. I’m treated to an eyeful of back fat. As if I hadn’t already been punished enough! Amy and Angel both start crying when they spot the knife. They’ve been with Miss Hott much longer than I have so they must both think this is the end.
Come on, Rand. Find us. Please, find us.
“It’s almost over now, Aspen.” Miss Hott says, swigging her champagne.
“So that’s it, you’re just going to kill all of us? What the hell is that going to prove?”
She acts like she doesn’t even hear me. She sets down her libations on the craft table, flips open the knife, and starts walking toward Angel. I hate Angel, but I certainly don’t want to watch her get murdered. Angel starts screaming behind her duct tape and wiggling around. Miss Hott places the knife up to Angel’s pale neck and pushes hard enough that I can see an indention.
“You’re going to get blood on your Choos. Blood and leather don’t mix, those shoes will never fit again,” I yell, trying to think of anything that might distract her. She seems to reconsider and moves away from Angel. I decide to keep talking maybe something I say will make her let us go.
“Eventually they are going to figure out who killed us. I left my student directory next to my dad’s bed with your address circled. They will find you. And if they don’t, they’ll put you on America’s Most Wanted. By Saturday night, John Walsh will be telling millions of people how much you weigh. Is that what you want? I don’t think so.”
“So I’m just supposed to let you all go? Then what happens to me, Aspen? Even if I got off, which we both know isn’t going to happen, I’d just go back to living a nonlife like before. I’ll never have a husband, or children. No one has ever loved me and no one ever will.” She looks so sad as she says this. This woman is probably going to kill me, but I can’t help it. I feel sorry for her. It would totally suck to go through your whole life and not have one single person ever love you. I’ve only lived half the time that Miss Hott has, and I already have several people who love me.
“Wait a minute,” I blurt out.
“Give it up, Aspen,” she says, putting a drop cloth down over her shoes a
nd placing the knife back to Angel’s throat. Angel is squirming around like a worm on a hook. I close my eyes because no matter how much I may have disliked Angel, I don’t want her to die. If only I could have done something else.
“Harry,” I blurt out. “Harry Malone loved you.”
She drops the knife to her side and gives me a perplexed look. “How in the world do you know Harry Malone? I went to school with him.”
“I know. He’s friends with my parents. I heard him tell them that he was crazy about you in high school. He said he was too intimidated by you to ever do anything about it.”
“That’s ridiculous. I would have known if someone was in love with me.”
“Look at me and Rand. He was in love with me for years, and I never knew it. Sometimes we are blind to what is right in front of us. He did love you, Miss Hott. That means that someday someone else could love you, too.”
She considers this for a moment and looks just about to drop the knife when I hear a creak on the steps and look up to see Harry with a gun in his hand.
“She’s right, Lulu. I was in love with you. It took me years to move on. Drop the knife and we’ll go talk about it.”
Miss Hott, uh, Lulu, is stunned. I’m not sure if it is because she has a gun in her face or she just found out that the man holding the gun in her face used to be in love with her. I’ve never been so happy to see someone in my whole life. I don’t even care that a huge patch of black hair is billowing out of the top of his bulletproof vest.
Harry repeats himself in a firmer tone this time. “Lulu, drop the knife so that we can talk.” She makes a quick swiping motion and I hear a crackling noise. The next thing I see is Lulu falling motionless to the cement floor.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
He didn’t kill her. It wasn’t even a real gun. He did hit her with 50,000 volts of electricity from a Taser. She collapsed like a rhinoceros shot with a tranquilizer gun. Harry ran over, confiscated the knife, and cuffed her before she could recover from her little jolt of electroshock therapy.
Revenge of the Homecoming Queen Page 19