I didn’t haveenough room to flail arms or legs, so it’s not like I could bang on anything.All I had at my disposal was the sound of my voice. “What’s going on? Help!”
The motionstopped suddenly, and pain shot through my body as my weight shifted. It wasthen I realized I was trapped inside my wardrobe flight case, and whoever putme in her was wheeling me around.
“Shut the fuckup,” a muffled voice hissed.
“Who are you?Let me out!”
“Jesus, lady,shut up.”
“What do youwant?” I demanded. “Do you know who I am? You won’t get away with this.”
“If you don’twant me to cut ya, you better shut the fuck up.”
He didn’t waitfor me to answer, just carried on and we started moving again. I was nowsuddenly scared to death. I had no idea where I was, who I was with, or whatthe fuck was going on. I didn’t have my phone. It was still charging in thedressing room back at the venue, so there was no way Train could track me.
I needed to keepmy wits about me. I had to try not to panic because I had no idea what wascoming.
I shuddered,squeezing my eyes shut, and sending up a quick prayer to the universe in thehopes that Train would somehow find me and find me quickly.
* * *
“Denny, what thehell did you go and do? What the hell is this?” a woman’s voice croaked out.
“She’s insidethere, Mama,” Denny said, excitedly.
“You’d betternot have hurt her too bad,” Mama hissed.
“Why are you gettin’mad at me?” Denny moaned. “I went and got ’er, didn’t I?”
“Did anyone seeyou?”
“No, Mama.”
“Are you sure?Because I’ll tell the cops this was all your doin’ if we get busted because ofsome pain in the ass witness.”
“I hit her withthe K, shoved her into the trunk and wheeled her right out the back door. Noproblems.”
“You’d betterhope not, and she better not be dead in there.”
Before anyonesaid anything else, bright light hit my eyes and I instinctively threw an armover my face to block it, realizing I could move, and making a move to do so.
I didn’t getfar.
“Nice try,”Denny growled, grabbing my arms, and lifting me off the ground, slamming meroughly onto a chair. I couldn’t stop a groan as pain shot up my side. He thenzip tied my wrists and ankles to the chair.
“Make surethey’re tight, boy. This one’s a runner,” Mama said.
“What do youwant?” I asked looking up at my jailor. He was tall and skinny, with greasy,dark hair, and tattoos covering pretty much every inch of the skin I could see,including his face. Not to mention, what teeth he did have left in his mouthwere either yellow or black. This young man had made somechoices.
I glanced aroundto see I was in the parlor of an older home that had seen better days. Muchbetter days. It had clearly been renovated in the 1970’s and never again since.The room was adorned with dark simulated wood paneling, complete withwall-to-wall Pepsi colored shag carpet, whether direct from the factory or fromyears of wear and tear, I didn’t know. I didn’t want to know.
An even youngergirl pushed Denny aside and stood in front of me. “Oh my lord, Melody Morgan,it’s really you!”
“I know you,” Ibreathed out. “I saw you at Fanfest.”
“Step aside,Carrie,” Mama demanded.
It was then Irealized the young girl was Carrie Harker. The one Gill had been arrested forgrooming and having inappropriate contact with. She was the one who’d beenstalking me at Fanfest.
