Groggy, I came to myself little by little.
My body hurt all over. I recalled the dude in my kitchen, the shock of the moment when he Tased me, the horrible pain. As it appeared my mind had returned to some semblance of coherency, I lifted my head to look around. The movement strained my already sore muscles and I grimaced.
I lay on a narrow, lumpy cot. The room around me appeared dim, a dilapidated structure made of wood. A cast iron stove sat nearby, unlit, cold. Ragged curtains rustled from the breeze entering through a busted window. The place smelled of piss and rot, the ceiling over the room damaged from water and appeared ready to cave in at any minute.
Horrified, I realized my hands were tied over my head. Panic seared through my veins. Tugging, yanking, only served to torment my wrists, tearing my skin, bringing blood. I didn’t care. I cried out, fighting the ropes, struggling to get free and escape whatever lay in store for me.
The dude who Tased me popped his head in the doorway. “You’re awake,” he commented. “Don’t fight, you’re only hurting yourself. See? You’re bleeding.”
“What do you want?” I screamed, struggling to rise, to get free. “What do you want from me?”
He lazily scratched his chest, leaning his shoulder against the jamb, which trembled. “Nothing. Yet. Boss says to give your man two days to find his stash.” He shrugged, smiling. His expression sent a shiver down my spine. “If he doesn’t, then I’m to kill you.”
“Just like that?” I cried. “You’ll kill me?”
“Not quite. See, boss has to send a message. This is what happens when you steal from him. Girlfriends, like you, die hard. Really hard. Boss gives those tasks to me cuz I like it.”
His feral grin widened. “I enjoy it.”
“Oh, God,” I moaned, closing my eyes. “You’ll torture me?”
“That’s about right. Fuck your lil twat, your ass. Start cutting things off. Like your tits.”
I threw my head back and screamed. A long, raw, and primal shriek of pure terror. I couldn’t stop it even when I realized displaying such fear, such panic, only led to his enjoyment. On I screamed, drawing one breath after another, daring to hope someone heard me, came to investigate, freed me.
He laughed. “Keep it up, little Lindsey. No one can hear you. Except me.”
Tears I couldn’t halt streamed down my temples to my ears. “Please let me go. I won’t tell anyone. I swear it.”
“If your boyfriend comes through, I’ll drive you back to town myself,” he replied. “Boss’s orders.”
“He’s not my boyfriend,” I shrieked. “I barely know him. He didn’t steal any dope. You’ll be killing an innocent woman.”
“Well, that won’t bother me. Innocent or guilty, it’s all the same.”
He paced toward the cot, peering down at me. “You sure are pretty, little Lindsey. I’m gonna have fun sticking my dick in you.”
My voice shook, my body trembled. “Boss said I have two days. You can’t touch me, not until two days.”
“He said I can’tkillyou for two days,” he answered with a chuckle. “Don’t mean I can’t still have my fun. As long as you’re in one piece when your boyfriend comes through.”
A soft moan escaped my mouth. He laughed again and turned away. “You get your rest, honey. You’ll need your strength.”
He left me alone. No doubt, he deliberately planned for the psychological torment of my imagination running rampant. To let my fear warp my mind, to sink its bitter fangs deep, waiting for him to return. To force himself on me.
Unfortunately, it worked.
I had no idea what time it was. Day time. That’s all I knew. I fought my ropes, wept at the pain, the blood that dripped down my arms. I didn’t care how much it hurt. I’d happily chew my hands off, like a fox in a trap, if it meant escaping this terrible future. I knew Brody wouldn’t find Austin’s fentanyl. How could he?
Unless he’s up to his neck in a dope scheme.
Shirley’s visit to me returned, her words of warning. That Brody was a dope dealing murderer. If that’s true, I’ll die. Horribly. If Brody was the cold, mean bastard Shirley said he was, he’d not care that his actions cost me everything. Had he already forgotten he’d placed me in this dangerous situation?
Brody! Help me, please! Please, please, get me out of here.
***
The long, tormenting hours passed. Brody didn’t come. My kidnapper didn’t arrive to inform me Brody found the dope and I was now free. Exhausted from fighting, from the terror, the waiting, I drooped on the cot. My throat raw from crying, from screaming, I craved a long cold drink of water. Nor wouldI get one. I’d yelled for water for I don’t know how long, and he ignored me.
