by Sienna Blake
Stevie has a shaved head and thick chest and a hint of ink that flashes from under the collar of his shirt. He has a thick rough accent that betrays his southern upbringing. “Can you drive any slower, Gary? I think the seniors’ brigade is beating you down the street.”
“I’m following the speed limit. The law, Stevie. Remember that thing you swore to uphold?”
Stevie snorts. “We’re not even on the main highway yet. I should have driven. We would be halfway there already.”
“Having broken how many traffic laws?”
“We’re cops. Traffic laws… traffic suggestions… Whatever. We can get around them.”
“Jesus, you worry me sometimes.”
“Your inability to chill the hell out worries me. Let’s swap. I’ll drive.”
“No. I won the coin toss this morning. So I get to drive and you get to shut up.”
“Nana driver. We’d get there faster if we walked.”
“Why don’t you get out and walk then.”
“Why don’t you get out and walk?” Stevie reaches out to fiddle with the radio buttons.
Gary whips out a hand to stop him. “Na ah, you don’t ever mess with a black man’s tunes.” I only notice then that the radio is playing a commercial R&B song. “I won that coin toss, too, remember?”
“But this is a soppy-ass love song. We need something with a bit of rock in it to get us in the mood.” Stevie reaches out again.
“Touch the radio and I’ll break your fingers.”
“But the−”
“Leave it.”
“Just−”
“Brother, do not make me Taser your ass.”
Stevie growls and slumps back into his seat. “Shoot me now and put me out of my misery.”
“Gladly. But it would cause me too much paperwork.”
“I swear, Gary, you get less and less fun every day. Isn’t the missus givin’ you enough at home?”
Gary doesn’t respond to the obvious bait. The silence catches my attention and I look up just in time to catch Gary’s furrowed brow as he glances up into the rearview mirror.
“What’s wrong?” I ask. Already my skin is prickling with a thousand needles.
“Oh, nothing.” But I can tell by Gary’s tone that it isn’t nothing and he’s trying to brush something off. I spin in my seat and crane my neck to stare out the back of the car.
A dark blue sedan is behind us. I can barely see the driver through the window, but I can tell he has a baseball cap pulled down low over his face. Wasn’t that sedan behind us earlier? I spin back to face the front and slump myself into the seat as far as the seatbelt will let me. “Oh my God. Is he following us?”
“He’s just a little close, that’s all.”
As if the driver of the blue sedan hears Gary, he chooses that moment to accelerate, ramming the back of our car. The car jolts and my heart crams into my throat. I hear Gary and Stevie swearing.
“Pedal to the metal, Gary,” Stevie yells as the car behind smashes into us again.
Oh God, this can’t be happening. This can’t…
“Hang on.” Gary slams his foot on the accelerator and I’m thrown backwards into the seat. We speed off down this semi-suburban street and start weaving in and out of cars.
“Jesus Christ,” Stevie mutters, “why couldn’t you have driven like this earlier?” Stevie grabs his radio and starts calling in for backup.
Up ahead through the front window I see a black van pull out from a side street, blocking our way. “Look out!” I scream. I curl into a ball and throw my arms over my head. And brace.
“Shit!” I feel Gary braking hard. I wait for impact.
Everything is going very slowly. I feel us swerving, the wheels no longer gripping the road. I hear the screech of tires. And we skid and we skid and we…
The car comes to a stop with a screech. I fly forward, whiplashing against my seatbelt. Thank God for seatbelts. This will no doubt leave a bruise across my body. But it’s better than being thrown through the front window.
I open my eyes and peer through my fingers. We’ve halted in time not to hit the van. The side doors of the van open and a group of men dressed in head to toe black scramble out and surround the car. Their faces are hidden by black balaclavas. In one of their hands I see the sun flash off something metal.
“They have guns!” Gary yells as he yanks his weapon from his holster. Shots ring out and the windscreen shatters in a shower of glass. I feel something warm spray onto my face.
Oh my fucking God.
I can’t look. I… Jesus… there’s blood everywhere. Gary’s head lolls to one side and Stevie has dropped his radio somewhere, crackling as someone on the other line calls for him to answer again and again. Answer, Stevie, please answer them. But Stevie can’t answer anyone anymore.
Oh my God. They’re dead. They’re both dead. And I’m next. I have to get out of here. My hands shake as I struggle with my seatbelt. I have to get out. I just have to get out of here. I turn and lunge for the car door on the other side.
Before I can grab the door handle the door is yanked away from me. I scream as something is shoved in my face. It’s the cold dead end of a barrel of a gun and it glares at me like an eye, sending shivers through my body all the way down to my toes. A rough hand grabs my arm and yanks me out. “Shut up and I won’t have to hurt you.”
I’m so stupid.
It’s not over. It’ll never be over.
Chapter Three
The present…
“I need to call Dixie,” I say.
We are driving along a lengthy stretch of empty road through this semi-arid country. Caden still hasn’t told me where we’re going or for how long we have to keep driving.
He doesn’t take his eyes off the road as he answers. “I’ll get you a burn phone and you can call her from that.”
“Burn phone? Is this some fancy cop term?” I point to myself. “Not a cop, remember? I’m just a helpless civilian that was kidnapped by a cop.”
I can see Caden’s knuckles whiten on the steering wheel. Good. He’s getting irritated. For some reason this makes me happy. Screw you, Caden.
“I didn’t kidnap you.”
“Excuse me.” I lift my left hand as far as I can so that my metal restraints clink. “But the fucking handcuffs you placed on me beg to differ.”
“From all that argument in you, I take it you’re feeling better.”
Feeling better? No. At this point I doubt I will ever truly feel better, but I’m having fun annoying the bastard. Hey, a girl’s gotta take what she can. And if being a chatty and argumentative shit stops me from freaking out and imagining Mack’s blood all over the glass then I’ll do it ‘til I’m hoarse.
“You’re changing the subject. What’s a burn phone?”
“It’s a prepaid mobile phone paid for in cash.”
“When can I get one?”
“When we get to where we’re going.”
“But I need to ring Dixie now.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
“Jesus Christ. It’ll be a cold day in Hell when you decide not to argue with me, won’t it?”
I bristle. I don’t give a shit anymore if I piss him off. “Look buddy, I don’t think you get it. Dixie’s going to wake up soon, if she hasn’t already, to find me gone from her couch but my backpack still there. She’ll know that I wouldn’t have left without my backpack full of the only cash I had left in the world. I had no way of leaving on my own. She’ll know I have been taken and she’ll freak the hell out. We’ll hear her screaming blue murder from here. If Dixie doesn’t hear from me soon she’ll have the police, the coast guard, hell, she’ll have the damn National Guard looking for me by noon.”
Caden sits in silent. Then he says, “She can’t do anything until 48 hours.”
“What?”
“Even if she does try to report you missing, no one will take her seriously until 48 hours after you’ve gone missing.”
&
nbsp; I slump back in my seat. Cop bastard, he would know wouldn’t he. He doesn’t look like he’s going to give in to me and let me call her. But I’m not giving in that easily either.
“I need the toilet.”
Caden sneaks a glance at me. “I’ll pull up and you can go behind a bush.”
“Excuse me?”
“We have to keep going.”
“I am not going behind a bush.”
“There’s some tissues in the glove box you can use to clean yourself up.”
“Why can’t we stop at a gas station?”
“We need to keep going.”
“But… but… I need to do a number two as well.”
There’s a silence in which I cross my arms across my chest as defiantly as I can whilst still handcuffed to the seat.
“I’m not going behind a bush. I don’t see why we can’t just stop for two damn seconds so I can use a proper toilet. I’m−”
“Jesus, alright. We’ll stop at a gas station.”
I think Caden just gave in to me. For the first time ever, Caden gave in to me. I need to mark this day on a fucking calendar. Somebody make this a national goddamn holiday.
“Great. And while we’re there I’ll call Dixie from their payphone.”
Caden narrows his eyes at me and mutters something under his breath that sounds suspiciously like, “Cheeky little shit.”
Caden indicates left at the next intersection. “Fine. But this better not be some kind of ploy to try and run away.”
“But you’re so pleasant,” I say, not bothering to hide the sarcasm dripping from my lips. “Why would I ever want to run from you?”
Chapter Four
Three years ago…
“Why did you run away from me?” This voice, his voice comes to me in the dark behind the rough sack covering my head. Immediately my entire body goes into a cold shock. All the hairs on my skin raise and my throat closes up like someone is choking me.
After I was dragged from the police car and blinded by the sack shoved down over my head, I was thrown into the trunk of the sedan.
Have you ever been locked in the trunk of a car? Pray you never have to experience it. It’s like being in your own coffin. The space was so small that my frantic thrashing made me bruise myself. My thrashing turned to a clawing, crying, screaming desperation as my terror bubbled up into my throat, releasing as screams no one could hear. My fingernails hurt from my scratching and I’m sure I ripped one of them off, but the pain is nothing compared to the crushing suffocating feeling of running out of air.
And the terror of realizing that there is nothing you can do about it. Nothing. But your body thrashes anyway even though there is no way out and you beg and you cry like a desperate whore and the sound of your own rasping breath is enough to make you hate yourself for breaking apart like this. But you can’t help but break apart.
Eventually, the car stopped and the trunk lid popped. The first gulp of fresh air brought another set of tears to my eyes. The salty-wet cloth over my face clung to my cheeks and I feared I might suffocate from my own tears. They took me inside and the light filtering in through the hessian sack died. Suddenly the air went cold and still and instantly caused goose pimples across my skin.
Which brings me to here and now.
Wherever I am smells like salt and oil. The sack is yanked roughly off my head. The hand grabbing it doesn’t care that he’s also grabbing my hair. I wince as I feel threads pop out of my scalp.
I blink, taking a second to grow accustomed to the dim light. When I do I wish that I don’t see what’s before me. He, with the chiseled face I used to love and thick lips I used to kiss now pinned into an angry scowl.
“Jacob.” My voice shakes around his name.
He opens his arms out to his sides like he is about to come in for a hug. He tilts his head. “It’s me.”
“No. But… but they caught you,” I stutter as I trip back and bump into a solid wall. This wall has hands that grab at my arms to force me to stay where I am.
He laughs. “Did you think those idiots had anything to do with catching me? I wanted to get caught to flush you out.” He grins. “And it worked.”
Stupid.
I knew it was too good to be true. I knew Jacob was too smart to ever get caught if he didn’t want to. He and his family have too many resources, their mouths in too many ears of important and valuable people everywhere to get caught like he did. The police force is too large and unwieldy to ever get a hold of a snake like Jacob unless he wanted to get caught.
And he let himself get caught. So that I would be forced out of my hiding place to come to his trial. He engineered his escape and my abduction.
Smart, smart man.
Stupid, stupid woman.
I’m going to die. I am. I know it. The last two years were just a reprieve. My purgatory. A grey waiting room between then and this moment.
I stand there shaking as Jacob circles me, unravelling me from the inside out. I consider begging for my life. I consider lying to him, saying the police forced me to testify. But I don’t. In the last shreds of my sanity I can understand now that none of these things will work. They will only make things worse.
I know the pain is coming. I know it. The only question is how much and for how long. All I can hope for is that he kills me without raping me. My skin crawls at this thought. I almost start begging right there to just kill me. Maybe if I make him mad enough he’ll snap and I can die sooner.
As he circles me I can feel his eyes on me. It feels like crawling, wriggling bugs, and I fight not to shiver and scratch at my skin. His footfalls clatter like shackles through the space. I can’t take this tension anymore. I feel a scream gathering up inside of me when Jacob stops his circling to stand right in front of me. “Two years, princess. I’ve waited two years for this day.”
I swallow. I can see he has a dagger in his hand. God help me. Make his cuts deep. Let me bleed out quickly.
I lift my eyes up to see his face twist, and my stomach turns at the hatred etched within his scowl. I used to love this man. He used to love me.
“I loved you and you betrayed me,” he screams. “I fucking loved you and you betrayed me. You fucking sold me out to the pigs. The pigs, princess.” He stomps and throws his torso around as he speaks. It makes him look crazy. Like he has lost his mind. He turns his eyes onto me and they’re shiny with anger. “Wasn’t I the fool? Didn’t I just get taken in by your innocence and your body? I bet you laughed at me behind my back.”
“No.”
“Well, look who’s laughing now.” He starts to laugh, forcing the sound out from his belly. The sound is manic and sends chills down my spine. He waves his arms around to his men who are standing around us like he’s conducting a symphony. They stare at each other as they all start laughing, but it sounds forced. They obviously also don’t know what he’s laughing at.
Jacob stops laughing and the sound cuts brutally from the air. The rest of the voices in the warehouse die, too. He takes a step towards me, close enough so I can feel his hot breath on my face as he glares at me. “Wasn’t I good to you, huh? Didn’t I buy you nice things and take you nice places and keep you from people like Winston who wanted to use you and harm you? Huh? And this is how you fucking repay me?” His voice echoes around the warehouse. He grabs my face with his hand. His fingernails dig into my skin and I feel the first drops of blood leaking from my body. The first of many.
His voice drops to a whisper so that I’m the only one who can hear. “Do you know what it’s like to fuck other bitches and wish it were you? You ruined me.”
I ruined you? How dare you. Something inside me snaps. Every muscle in my body recoils. A feral sound bursts from my mouth as I attack at Jacob with my claws. “You son of a bitch. I ruined you? You fucking ruined me. You ruined me.”
My nails catch on his face and I tear away three strips of his skin before I’m hoisted back by my arms. Jacob hisses as he wipes his cheek, his fingers co
ming away with blood. He starts swearing in Spanish and I recognize the Spanish word for bitch. I brace myself as he steps up to me, clenching his fists.
“You little whore,” he growls out. He punches me full force in the jaw and it explodes with fire.
God. Damn.
My head spins as my vision tilts in front of me. The hands that hold me tighten as I sway.
Jacob draws a gun from the back of his pants. He shoves the cold barrel into my mouth, clipping my teeth, so deep into my throat that I start to gag. “I should kill you right here. Is that what you want? Huh?”
I squeeze my eyes shut and bite down on the metal. Please make it painless. Make it quick.
Using the barrel, he pushes me down to my knees, causing me to choke. He pulls the gun from my lips and I heave in a breath as I cough. He starts to walk around me, dragging the barrel wet with my saliva against my skin. “Or maybe I should fuck you one last time first. Huh? Did you miss being fucked by me?”
He grabs my face, his fingernails digging into my cheeks again.
I hear a zipper and I keep my eyes shut. I can smell his musky arousal from here. Bile rises in my throat as he grabs the back of my head by my hair. Is he really going to make me do this in front of everyone? Of course he will. I humiliated him. So he needs to humiliate me back.
“If you bite,” he says, “I’ll knock your teeth out and let everyone here fuck your face.”
Oh God.
I’m not here. I’m not here. Please, I’m anywhere but here.
“Open your mouth.”
I clamp them shut and shake my head.
The butt of the gun comes down on my cheek and a hot pain lashes through my face. “Open your fucking mouth.”
No. I bite my teeth together and squeeze my lids. I won’t open them. I won’t scream. He’ll have to kill me.
Shots ring out and a surge of adrenaline rushes through my body making me feel lightheaded. He must have shot me. He decided to kill me and be done with it after all. Thank God. It’s finally all over. He lets go of my hair. My thighs give out and I crumple from my knees to the ground. With the last of my strength I curl into a ball on my side. Funny, I would have thought that being shot would have hurt more. But it doesn’t hurt at all. Perhaps I’m already dead?