Mugs of Love

by Norma Jeanne Karlsson

  I don’t respond. I’m not having this conversation. Especially when I don’t know where Emily is.

  “She wouldn’t take off. Somethin’ fucked up is goin’ on and I guarantee you it’s motherfuckin’ Warren,” he snarls, leaving the pregnancy topic alone.

  I remain silent for the rest of the search, finishing my smoke and immediately taking another one from Jordan.

  My woman is missing. My possibly pregnant woman is missing. For the first time in my life, I’m feeling something other than rage and the happiness Emily fills me with.

  Fear.

  I pull into Ruby’s parking lot ready to chew Jordan’s drunk butt out all the way home. I can’t believe he’s too drunk to drive home at six o’clock on a Saturday evening. He didn’t tell me he was coming here. He said he was going home to work on his car.

  I didn’t tell Garrett I was coming for one very specific reason. Adam’s the one who called me. Jordan’s number flashed on my phone, but when I answered, it was Adam who spoke. I almost fell over. There’s no way Jordan would be with Adam unless something was really wrong. So when Adam told me he called me from Jordan’s phone because he knew I wouldn’t answer him, it made sense.

  Adam said he showed up at Ruby’s and Jordan was a mess, about to start a fight. I hopped off the phone, told Cody I was going to pick up Jordan and raced here. Jordan’s a mouthy drunk and he doesn’t need to end up in jail for fighting…again.

  He hasn’t done something like this in years. I’m surprised this is happening. Jordan seemed fine today. His usual teasing, light-hearted self. Something must have happened to cause him to get rip roaring drunk.

  I really wish he wasn’t drunk because I’m still processing the idea that I’m pregnant. I could use my best friend right now to talk things through. I haven’t taken a test, but I’m late. A week late and a complete hormonal mess. This is beyond PMS. I miss my mom so much right now. That’s why I started the fight with Garrett. I’m edgy and scared. I want my mom. I’ve missed her since the moment she died, but I haven’t wanted her like I do right now since I was a little girl.

  I know everything will be fine. Women get pregnant every day, give birth every day. I can do this. And with Garrett at my side, I know I’ll be fine. I just need to keep my wits about me and trust the man I love.

  I slide out of my new Mini Countryman that Garrett bought me. I take one step before a gloved hand slams over my mouth from behind and the sharp sting of a needle pierces the side of my neck. I want to fight, but I’m instantly limp as my vision of a man running toward me fades to black.

  Help!

  “He’ll do it. He barely leaves her fuckin’ side. There’s no way he won’t pay up,” I hear a raspy female voice say before a door slams.

  I’m on a bed, a firm mattress with coils poking my back and a thin blanket over me. The room I’m in is completely dark as I crack my eyes open. My head feels full of cotton. I’m not tied down, but I’m terrified to try and stand up. My pulse is racing and I’m starting to sweat.

  I reach up and feel my neck where I remember being injected. It’s sore to the touch, but there are no additional holes in my skin.

  Where am I?

  Who took me?

  My mind is racing when a sliver of light appears to my left before a door is completely pushed open.

  “Good. You’re awake,” the raspy-voiced woman says, strolling toward me.

  My eyes adjust to the light quickly and I study her as she walks. She’s in tight black pants and a tighter scarlet red patterned shirt. Her heels have to be at least six inches high and her make-up is heavy. With inky hair down to her waist and eyes that match, she looks exotic. I have no idea who she is.

  “Smile pretty,” she orders before snapping a few pictures with her phone.

  I don’t smile. I squint and grimace at the bright flash inches from my face.

  “Garrett sure decided to start slummin’ it. I’m not surprised though. I ruined him,” she says before cackling like a witch.

  My body is still sluggish from whatever was pumped in me. I have the overwhelming urge to rip her face off, but I know I’ll never succeed in my current state.

  “Angelique,” I croak.

  It’s obvious now. The way she looks. The entitled smirk on her painted crimson lips. I hate her. Down to the depths of my soul, I hate the woman standing next to me.

  “At least you’re smart. It makes up for your ugly face,” she scoffs.

  Her insult rolls off my back. Taking crap from Sarah for years has hardened me to this juvenile behavior. Plus, I don’t care what Angelique thinks of me.

  “Don’t think about tryin’ to run. You’re a long way from home and no one around here’s gonna help you. Stay in this room and don’t cause trouble. This’ll all be over as soon as Garrett gives me my fuckin’ money. But if you wanna try me, I’d be glad to give you to some of the guys out there,” she threatens.

  I don’t respond. There’s no point. I’m not stupid. She’d love to have people hurt me. She’s a coward who thrives on hurting people. A disgrace to the female population. I’d spit at her if my mouth wasn’t as dry as the Sahara.

  She snorts at my lack of response before leaving the room. Once I’m alone in the dark again, I push myself to a sitting position. I’m light-headed, but I force myself to stay upright. I’m obviously here for ransom. I know Garrett will do anything to get me, but money can be a tricky thing.

  We’re not in a movie where he can walk in a bank and empty his account in five minutes. Banks are closed and won’t open again until Monday morning. I’ll be stuck here for at least another day and a half. I don’t see Angelique offering me food or water. I need to stay hydrated at least.

  My dad was stranded on a mission once and survived for ten days off the land. I’m not my father. I wish I would’ve let him teach me more about survival now. I’m not completely helpless though. I can improvise with the best.

  Before Angelique shut me in, I saw another door at the end of the room. There were no windows and based on the dank smell, concrete walls and exposed pluming in the ceiling, I’m in a basement. The only thing in the room is the bed I’m lying on, or more correctly, the mattress that’s on the floor.

  I crawl on my hands and knees across the concrete floor until I reach the door that Angelique used. I want to rip it open and run for my life, but I’m not that crazy. I need a plan and some strength before I try a move like that.

  I feel my way to the next door and ease it open. I run my hands along every surface and find a metal-feeling sink. Please let this work. When I get a hold of the tap, I twist it and almost burst into tears when nothing flows from it. I keep turning the knob, but still no water.

  I huff and collapse on my butt, refusing to cry. I need those tears in my body right now.

  I feel around some more until I find a toilet. In a move that makes my stomach roll, I plunge my hands into the bowl.

  It’s dry.

  There’s nothing else in the bathroom. No shower or bathtub. I’m not getting to any water.

  I crawl back to my mattress and curl up in the thin blanket that smells of mold and vomit, forcing myself not to cry.

  My thoughts turn to Adam. Did he see me before I was taken? Did he try to get me? Did he help them take me? I can’t make sense of anything.

  Garrett. He’ll be in a rage. A violent, merciless fury to get me back. And being handcuffed waiting for Monday will make him insane. That insanity will make him want to come for me without money.

  Jordan. If he’s drunk, he won’t be sober enough to look for me. And when he’s able to, he’ll punish himself for not being able to do it sooner. The guilt will destroy him.

  My father will have a troop of mercenaries after me as soon as he finds out. He’ll have a gun in his hands and war in his eyes. I know he’ll stop at nothing to get me to safety.

  All the people I love are surely in pain right now and there’s nothing I can do to help them or myself. I have to stay alive. I
have to be smart. I have to keep my emotions in check. I have to be strong for my baby. This is my first test in motherhood and I refuse to fail.

  I try to find sleep. I need these drugs out of my system so I can regain my strength. I wish I found solace in the silence of this space, but I don’t. It’s an eerie quiet, foreboding and bleak.

  “Help me, Mom. Please,” I whisper as I close my eyes and wait for the hands of an angel to touch me.

  I wake up screaming as I’m ripped from the mattress by my hair. My hands fly to the roots, trying to stop the burning pain as I’m dragged out the door. I kick and flail as best I can, desperate to get away from the man forcing me into another room.

  He throws me forward and my face collides with the concrete. A trickle of blood runs down my cheek when I push myself up on my hands and knees.

  “Garrett must not care about you as much as I was told,” Angelique growls, yanking my head back by my hair. “You’re gonna convince him.”

  She shoves her phone in my face, not letting her grip loosen on me. Garrett’s scowling face lights up the screen and my tears finally begin to fall.

  “Emily,” he whispers painfully.

  “Garrett,” I sob, reaching toward his face.

  “Isn’t this a touching reunion?” Angelique drones sarcastically. “Garrett, I wanted you to see her one more time before I let Switch have his way with her. If she’s not worth ten million to you, I might as well get some use outta her.”

  “Angelique,” Garrett snarls with venom. “Anything that happens to Emily will happen to you, your sisters and your mother.”

  “Promises, promises,” she snarks, but I hear a little fear in her voice.

  “Switch!” Garrett roars and the man who dragged me in here steps up next to me.

  I can’t see him from where Angelique has me pinned, but his face comes into view in the corner of the phone. He looks like death. There’s nothing in his grey eyes, no life. His blond hair is unkempt and greasy.

  “You touch my woman and I’m comin’ for you. I know you got no family you give a shit about, but your dog is important as I recall. You got that mutt with you? His head’s gonna be mounted on my motherfuckin’ wall with your balls shoved in his mouth,” Garrett growls.

  “Fuck you, Sharp,” Switch mutters before flipping open a knife beside my face. “I’ll gut your bitch just for the fun of it and I’ll make it last so she feels every drag of my blade.”

  He runs the cold steel against my cheek as he speaks. Garrett’s eyes are completely black with wrath.

  “I know you’ve got the cash at hand, Garrett. Stop stalling for the banks. You’ve got an hour to drop ten million at Ladies. You don’t and Switch gets her. I don’t give a shit what kinda power you think you have. You’re nothin’ anymore. Get me my fuckin’ money!” Angelique shrieks before ending the call.

  Switch tears me away from Angelique and drags me back to my room before chucking me on the floor. I catch myself this time, but wait for him to close the door before moving. Once I’m back on the mattress, I use the blanket to put pressure on the gash on my forehead.

  How is Garrett going to get ten million dollars in an hour? There’s no way. I have to find a way out of here. Somewhere with a phone, that’s all I need. Ladies is a strip club in Kansas City. We must be close if that’s where Angelique wants the money dropped off. I know my way around the city well enough to get my bearings once I’m on a street.

  I have no weapons in here. There’s nothing I can rip off the wall to use against Switch or Angelique. And if there are other people in this building, I’ll have to fight them off to escape. I’m certain I’m in a building of some kind because the room I was just in was a boiler room. Time to improvise.

  I crawl over to the bathroom and test the strength of the handle. If I can pry it off, it might make for a pointy weapon. It’s already a little loose as I start hanging my body weight off of it. This is the moment where you need a hairpin. Again, this isn’t a movie so I don’t have anything on me that I can use.

  I’m tired. I hurt all over. I’m hungry. I’m hormonal. I’m scared. But most of all, I’m mad. I’m trying to use that to get this stupid handle off. I didn’t see much when Switch dragged me out of here, but I did see a set of metal stairs off to the right. That’s where I’m heading.

  After what feels like a lifetime, the wooden door splinters. The crack it makes is loud enough that I freeze, waiting for the door to burst open. But nothing happens. I jerk a few more times and come back with a rounded knob that fits in my palm and one long jagged piece of metal sticking out of the other side. It’s almost like a stubbed ice pick. This is a weapon.

  The only other thing I can use in this room is the door itself. My plan is to smash it into whoever comes in next. I’ve got my fingers crossed that I can give someone a good whack in the head and make my escape.

  I lean against the wall and wait with my knob in my front pocket and my shoulders back, ready to strike. My dad made me learn self-defense, but I’m doubting that will help me against Switch. I’m going to try my best. I owe my unborn child and myself this fight.

  I refuse to give up and let these people take away my life when I just started living it.

  I choose life.

  When the door opens, I hold my breath. Switch looks around the edge of the door and I swear I hear my mother whisper, “Now.”

  I push off the wall with my foot, grab the edge of the door and smash it into Switch’s face.

  “Fuck!” he roars, holding his nose.

  He stumbles a little so I hit him again. With the way he’s hunched over, I slam the edge of the heavy metal door into the top of his head. He collapses to his knees while fumbling his hand toward his waistband.

  “Run,” I hear my mother’s voice again.

  I leap over Switch as he tries to grab my legs. I stumble a little before I right my feet and sprint toward the stairs. I’m relieved when I don’t see anyone as I move. But to be on the safe side, I grab my makeshift weapon and have it at the ready as I ascend the metal staircase.

  Switch is screaming at me to stop as he chases me. His heavy footsteps shake the entire stairwell. I focus on one foot in front of the next. If I fall, he’ll get me. The lights overhead are flickering, but I haven’t seen a door and I’ve gone up three flights at this point.

  I push harder, forcing myself not to look back at Switch. My lungs are burning and my legs are screaming at me, but I don’t listen to them. I make them move.

  Finally, there’s a door in front of me. I ram my shoulder into it and almost fall as it bursts open. I’m in a parking garage. An empty parking garage with bright orange construction netting and scaffolding all around.

  I race across the concrete in the direction of the ramp.

  “Stop!” Switch roars and then a bullet whizzes past me.

  I scream for help at the top of my lungs as I reach the ramp and start running down it. I try to stay to the edge where he can’t get a shot off as he keeps firing at me.

  When I get to the bottom, my heart sinks. The opening is boarded up and the rest is netted in. He’s going to get me now. I scan the area quickly as Switch’s footfalls grow nearer.

  I spy a tiny gap in the wood and decide that’s my only option. It’s small, but I have to try. I shove my head and shoulders through as an excruciatingly sharp pain rips through my calf. He shot me. I continue to struggle my way through as his meaty fist clamps down on my wound.

  I screech in pain as I try to fight him off, falling to the ground. I kick and kick before I feel the barrel of the gun pressed to my shin.

  “Don’t fuckin’ move,” he seethes.

  I halt and the wood barricade splinters as he smashes through it. Switch leans down to rip my body from the ground and I attack. I plunge the spiked end of the doorknob into his neck and his lifeless eyes spark as he gasps and a spurt of blood sprays my face.

  His gun falls from his hand as I scramble away from him. I snatch his gun off the ground a
nd point it at him as I struggle to my feet. The doorknob is still in his neck as he gasps and chokes, dropping face first on the pavement.

  I back away slowly, glancing around feverishly for a recognizable landmark or street sign. I’m losing a lot of blood and limping badly as I move. I can’t run if Switch gets back up. But from the looks of it, he’s down for the count…possibly dying. My heart stutters at the thought until I push it away. He was going to kill me.

  As I continue looking, I realize I’m in downtown Kansas City. Everything is closed. No businesses are open. No people or cars on the street. It’s the middle of the night, dark and frigid. I don’t know what street I’m on yet. I should go pat down Switch and get his phone, but I can’t risk that.

  Once I’m far enough away, I take my eyes off his body and really look at where I am. Twelfth Street. The courthouse has to be close. I don’t know if anyone will be there, but cops are always around the building.

  I force my injured leg to limp along, as my vision gets hazy. I lean against a lamppost to rest for a moment and then move again, looking back to see Switch hasn’t moved.

  When I see the cross street of Grand Boulevard, I know I’m close. The Kansas City Power and Light District is only a few blocks from here. Between the nightlife hot spot and the courthouse, I should see a police cruiser any minute.

  I’m vaguely aware that Ladies is only a few blocks from here too. I can’t worry about that now. I have a gun. My dad made sure I knew how to shoot one. I’m not a great shot, but I know how to fire this weapon if I need to.

  In the distance, I see the welcome sight of a KCPD cruiser. But they’re turning the wrong way. I need them to stop.

  “Help!” I scream at the top of my lungs, waving like a lunatic.

  They keep driving away.

  I improvise.

  I raise the gun over my head and shoot. The car stops and flips on its lights, pulling a U-turn in my direction. I sink to my knees on the sidewalk. When two officers race toward me with their guns drawn, I try to tell them what happened. But I can’t speak. My vision gets spotty and I feel my body lurch forward before everything goes black.