by Lydia Thorn
“Thank you. I didn’t get a chance, or I did get a chance but I was too busy being a stubborn bastard, but in the hospital, I wanted to say more.”
“And a pleasant mood turns sour.” He says letting me go.
“Hear me out. I will never truly understand the fight you had to endure with our father, but I hated you for not standing up for Ava.”
“It wouldn’t have made a difference.”
“I know, it’s still hard. For a long time, I felt you had betrayed me, but I also know that everything you did was to eventually free us from his control. I felt guilty that a few months after what happened to her, you were able to get rid of our father for good. If only I had been more careful and put Ava in the elevator while I was at school just in case she made some noise or he accidentally found the hidden halls…”
“Listen to me. What happened was no one else’s fault but our evil ass father and he paid for his decisions in spades.”
“I hope it hurt.”
Kane nods. My brother is a man of few words, but I get his meaning. No hard feelings on both our parts and an acknowledgment of who was at fault. I gather my key to take my leave, maybe surprise Raven before grabbing something to eat. It’s Saturday, no classes for him.
I can’t believe my eyes when I spot Xander dressed in a dark grey suit and waiting outside the extensive set of steps. “And you’re here because?” I say approaching him.
“You’re not the only one doing one of these presentations for Maximillian.”
“Good luck.” I hope you burn.
“I don’t need it.” He says looking very confident. “If this goes well, my father is likely to take me more seriously, I won’t lose to you.”
“It’s not about winning or losing to me. Neither of us owns these companies and my brother nor your father view one another as competition.” I don’t give two shits about reaching common ground with him, what I explained was pure facts. I don’t have time sitting around competing with a company I don’t even own.
“Walk around acting high and mighty if you want. Thinking you’re hot shit cause you act like you don’t give a damn. But you do. We’re talking about the future here, our future. And it’s up there.” Xander points up to the sky. “What? You think you’re the only one Miss. Gina submitted her invention to?”
And if my day can’t turn to hot garbage enough, that basket case Tai is with him. “Hello, Mr. Lorenson. You were right about being able to find a job soon.” Her look could give her enemies chills, if I gave a damn.
“What was that about?” Gina comes to me once they leave me in peace.
“Did you submit your invention to other companies?” I ask for confirmation. I’m not angry and what she did wasn’t a crime, she’s right to do it and I like’d it enough to take it on, anyway. I just need to know if his words were true or Tai is feeding him information.
“I shopped my idea around before entering the contest. Was that wrong?”
“No, it’s nothing.”
LOUIS
I hate shopping, I mean what the heck can you get out of it, but new clothes? Well, I guess that’s the point, but what I mean is why place so much emphasis on fashion? To me, clothes serve a function. If I’m cold, put on something warm, too hot, take some things off. Walking in the snow, get boots, going to the beach, wear flip flops. But then again, maybe my fashion-challenged ways is why there isn’t anything remarkable about me.
My hair comes to my neck, I didn’t even realize it had gotten this long. I pick a piece of lint out. I can see Kiki in the mirror, determined to spend every ounce of that hundred bucks my mother gave me yesterday.
“Kiki, I don’t know what part of me not having the money for this that you don’t get,” I say as I turn and watch her carry an arm full of hair care products to the cashier.
“And I don’t know what part of I got this covered that you don’t get.” She whips out a credit card and starts dancing. I doubt it's her card.
“Kiki….”
“Hush, I can pay my mom back when I get my stylist gig. I’m already getting a hundred bucks from you, that’s a start.”
We head home with bags of crap that are supposed to make me look better and of course some trinkets for her cause, why not?
When we get in the house, I read the note leftover from my mom, she’s at the hospital with dad. I hope she’s feeling better.
“I’m gonna give you a bomb ass haircut, sit down.” She kicks and chair over and I reluctantly take a seat while she gathers her newly bought equipment.
“I’ve never seen you do hair before,” I say now worried more than ever, now it’s actually happening, Kiki coming toward my head with a sharp object.
“I did Joe’s.”
“Your cousin?”
“Yeah, he’s getting all kinds of pussy now.”
“Ugh.”
“Just shut up and learn the meaning of the word trust.”
She washed my hair with what she called a clarifying shampoo, then dried the hair before applying a blue tint to it. Then she took a brow cutter to my brows and moisturized my skin with some sort of lotion.
After washing came the dreaded cutting. She seemed pleased with herself and her handiwork and I didn’t hate it, she called it the Ivy League undercut, whatever the hell that meant. The top is long while fading the bottom. “I’m actually surprised at how good this looks,” I say even noticing bits of blue within the black of my hair.
“Told ya I’m good. Now go to your man and make him swoon over you.”
I don’t want to be transparent but once I put on the casual black pants and shirt, I wanted to go to Ivan immediately. Dare I say it, I actually look fuckable.
I make Kiki swear she won’t burn the house down before I leave and head off toward the station with my earbuds in and ready to shuffle to the first song.
A black Nissan NV Passenger screeches to a stop in front of me, two men pour from the vehicle before my mind put it together what the hell was going on. Like what the hell do you do when a car pulls up to you and men you don’t know jump out. My brain didn’t even have time for fight or flight when they grab me, pulling me to the open door.
“No! Help!” I cry out but the streets around here are damn near empty and those few stragglers I knew they weren’t going to help me nor call the police. Almost everyone around here has an aversion to the cops and they live by the snitches get stitches mantra.
I fight as best I can but it’s hardly good enough, I face plant in the leather seat and one of the men presses his knee into my back. I lurch back with the motion of the vehicle and all I hear is their voices championing their victory in successfully getting me into the vehicle and the screeching tires and roar of the engine.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
LOUIS
I’m weak, I couldn’t fight back hard enough, if only I was stronger. I should have spent my life in gym pumping iron or some shit, be a jock with muscles on top of muscles. If I had that would these men had taken me? I lay in darkness with nothing but my thoughts to keep me company. All I can think about are the different ways I could have saved myself. Like some action movie nonsense where I use my legs and leverage and high kick one of those guys in the face, gouge the eye out of another, and get the hell out of there. I was about a five-minute walk from the apartment. Five minutes, too far to see from my balcony.
I’m screwed.
They took off my clothes and stole my phone. My shoulders have fallen asleep from my arms cuffed behind my back. And legs bound. If this is Ivan’s idea of some sort of kinky sex crap, then I don’t think we’re gonna work out.
Honestly, I wish it was him behind it, he’s rich enough to hire some guys to do this, maybe if it’s him and it’s some kinky sex crap then it means he won’t hurt me…
I think I’m losing it. Ivan would never do this. A part me only wishes he did because it's easier to think of that and be angry and not the reality.
I don’t know these people. They snatched me
off the streets in broad daylight, and now I’m naked save for the black collar Ivan had placed around my neck. I have no way out of this and I’m starting to panic. My breath quickens, heart-pounding, body trembling.
I can’t speak because of the ball gag; the blindfold ensures I can’t see where I am.
I’m going to die.
Isn’t that how it is? You get kidnapped by a gang of sociopaths and tortured to death for their sick amusement. Or is this some sex slave trade? Hats off to Kiki. Her slogan should be: I’ll make you so fuckable you’ll get kidnapped and sold on the black market.
I hear a door open, though it's slightly muffled. He sounds important. He asks if they took the right person.
I don’t want to know if that’s good or bad. I doubt they will just tell me that they took me by accident and let me go.
One of them read off what I look like and even my address. They’re after me, specifically.
I’m sorry, mom.
I try my best to resign myself to whatever fate I will face but now I think I probably should have just fucked Ivan one last time, baked my dad’s honey crullers one last time, read one of my mom’s novels, confided in Rei, told Toby what an ass he was being, told Mr. Bowie that Ivan belongs to me and I didn’t hate him, and force Kiki to make up with her mom.
I want to see my dad again.
The door to what I can only guess as the bathroom opens. They put me in the tub, I could tell because my kidnappers would come in here to piss.
“Let’s see what we have here.”
I think I’ve heard this voice before, but I can’t pin it.
“You really are a kinky bastard, see. I told you it’s always the quiet types.”
He pulls at the ring, yanking my head back and I already feel sick. Like this person took something away from me and Ivan.
“Now that I got a good look at you, you look damn good.” He chuckles, his warm tongue laps at my nipple and I’m repulsed. “Does Ivan fuck you? Oops, sorry about that, can’t expect you to talk with this in your mouth.” He removes the straps, freeing my mouth from the gag. I want to scream, this has to be a motel or something, I hear the cars outside. “If you scream, I’ll have one of my boys fuck your ass until you can’t stand straight.”
“Xander?” I say, believing I pinpointed the voice.
“Oh well, now I gotta kill you.”
“No! Please…don’t!
He strokes my head gently. “I was going to tell you, anyway. Can’t make a deal if you don’t know where I’m coming from.”
“I’m sorry I kicked you in the nuts. Don’t you think you’re taking this too far?”
“No. I’m not.” He sneers. “As a matter of fact, I owe you for that.”
He knocks the wind from my lungs, I pull in heaping gulps, the pain in my stomach is unbearable. I double over, face smacking the rim.
“Be lucky I don’t give two shits about you.”
“Then what do you want?”
“Tell me what would make the most popular guy in school suddenly start hanging out with a loser like yourself. It’s not like you’re in the same tax bracket. I did a little research. I’ve seen you come out of his place, him dropping you off at that ghetto apartment you live in. All of this just so happens to start around the time I hear you might have dirt on him.” He feels the lock at the back of my collar. “Tell me what you have on Ivan Lorenson and I swear I’ll let you go.”
I want to believe him; I want to go home and cry myself to sleep.
But I’m in a fucking bathtub, I don’t believe for a moment that letting me go involves anything other than my blood running down the drain.
“School is almost done,” I say, trying to reason with him. “This prank, you and Ivan, all of it will mean nothing then, it barely means anything now.”
“See, you’re wrong about that, pretty boy. Ivan will be my rival soon. I’ll be working for my sick father and he will work for his brother, both of us are heirs. We’re both are going to create products that in direct competition with each other. Like Microsoft and Sony. I’m not a very good competitor, you see. I prefer to just squash them outright and be done with it.”
“…”
“How about we cut a deal with each other? I looked into your financial problems. Your dad is half dead, your med bills total over five hundred thousand dollars, and everything but twenty is paid. I’ll give you five hundred and twenty grand, you, not some hospital. You take the money and go.”
“You have to see things from my perspective,” I say, hoping for leeway. “It’s hard for me to believe you when I’m in the tub, blindfolded, naked, and bound. Show me you’re sincere.” Swallowing doesn’t sate the dryness of my throat. “I’m smaller than you without those others. I can’t leave anyway, so why do all this?”
“In truth, it wasn’t my idea to do this, but, Sam has such tastes for men like you. Personally, you aren’t my type but the collar is doing it for me.”
The harsh light forces me to close my eyes, I want to shield them but they cuffed my arms.
He snaps his fingers, and a large muscled man hands him the keys. He uncuffs my wrists, which tingle as sharp waves of pain hit every nerve. My arms were now used to their new position, but I force them to the front. He helps me up after uncuffing my legs and another man brings my pants but no underwear.
I put them on as fast as I can.
“Need something for that?” Xander dismisses the men and they close the door, leaving us alone. I look at my hands while fixing my pants, I had no idea I was trembling so obviously. “Some weed will calm you down.”
“No. I’m fine.”
“No, you’re not.” He pulls a joint from his pocket and lights it up, taking a long drag and motioning me to him. I lose my balance and almost fall out the tub but he catches me and once again he pulls my hoop back and blows the thick smoke into my surprised parted lips.
The window is right behind me, it doesn’t look like it will take much to open it, no screen to keep out the mosquitoes. The bathroom itself looks old and worn with time. Like this is some Bates motel or something.
If I hit him with the trashcan, I doubt it will knock him out, he could probably kill me before I get out the window. I have to get him to leave me here. But I don’t know how. Wait.
“My phone, it’ll have what you want on it.”
Xander stands, a small smile plays on his lips, and he opens the door to ask one of those men to get it. I turn fast, opening the window and hopping out. I hear their cursing voices as I run for my life!
I have no idea where I am, but it’s night, and it seems like a rundown desolate area, not a car or soul in sight.
Just keep running!
I came across a dry cleaner and a group of guys goofing off near one of those 24/7 convenient stores. The vehicle is coming! I run toward the men. They were down the street on the next block and it looks like they’re leaving.
“Hey!” I shout, drawing their attention. A familiar face among them is like a beacon in the dark. “Toby!” I shout. It has to be him!
The vehicle stops in front of me causing me to crash hard into them and like before two get out and throw me back inside.
“Help! Toby! It’s me—”
The large man covers my mouth, his colossal body hovering over me, pulling me too close for comfort. All I smell is Cheetos, sweat, and beer, and I want to throw up right now.
“He’s livelier than we thought.” The man laughs.
“You really shouldn’t have done that.” Xander sits on the other side, my face almost in his lap. “I told you if you don’t behave one of my boys will fuck your ass until you can’t stand up straight.”
The big man hands grip my semi-hard cock, my dumb ass partner is against me.
“Xander, I’m sorry.”
“Pull into the parking lot here.” Xander orders and the sizeable man cackles, his breath hot and stinky in my ear. Everyone but us leave. “I don’t want your fucking DNA inside the car.”
“I’ve been wanting to fuck this pussy since we nabbed him.”
My face plants the hood, but he can’t bend me over, he instead pulls me over to a picnic table. The entire place was an industrial site, the motel is one of the buildings on the lot and it looks like the only remaining structure here, the rest is closed off with construction trucks and gear laying about. And this place was what was left of a former park, long since neglected by the look of broken bottles and overgrown grass.
I try to reason with Xander but he didn’t follow us here, none of them did, they stayed behind waiting for him to finish. I need to fight harder!
Fight!
I cry out when the cold slippery spit and his fat fingers reach my hole, he only lingers long enough to coat me…
“Wait.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
LOUIS
A long time ago, I heard a story about a soldier who was taken prisoner in Vietnam. When he was captured, he hid his watch. To him, they could take anything from him, even the picture of his wife and child he left back home. But he would not, under any circumstances that he can help, part with his watch.
He said the reason for this is that keeping track of the time is one of the most important things you can do when held captive. Keeping track of the time keeps you sane. You’re more afraid when you believe your ordeal is lasting longer.
I wish I had a watch.
It’s been so quiet for so long; I wonder if I’m in this place alone. But I’m back in the position I was in when they first brought me here, blindfold and all. For some reason, Xander had stopped the rape, and I was grateful for that, but I’ll never feel total relief until I’m free of this place.