I glance around as Luis moans softly. We’re in what looks like a rundown barn. There are holes in the walls and the roof that are letting in the light of the morning. I assume it’s morning. No wonder I’m freezing. Naked overnight in a barn in April. I’m surprised we’re not suffering hypothermia. Well, Luis might be. I’m cold, but the longer I’m awake the clearer my head gets, so I’m not suffering the brain fog associated with that condition.
Luis moans again, jerking and then pushing up on his feet as his head comes up. His unfocused gaze doesn’t register anything he’s seeing until he looks up his arms, discovering his predicament.
I follow his eyes up to the hook he’s hanging on. It’s attached to a wooden beam above; the same one I appear to be attached to. We’re tied from our wrists and hang from a rope. The knot is complex, but it’s probably designed to cause less damage than other ways we could have been tied up. Still not comfortable.
Eventually, Luis wakes up enough to see me. Confusion crosses his features when he does. “What the fuck?” he rasps, staring at me with as much bafflement as I have about this situation.
“Some guy in his late twenties, bald, white, round glasses, tall and strong, injected me with something from his vape pen.” At least my memory from before is intact.
Luis takes a minute to digest that, then blinks a couple of times. “Same. He told me—” he stops talking, closing his mouth suddenly.
That’s an interesting reaction. “What did he tell you?” I remember what he told me, and there’s no way that Magnus let Luis touch him the way I’ve been touching him.
Luis grimaces. “It was just a prank,” he starts, looking away from me. “Ok, it wasn’t really a prank, but Magnus is a fucking asshole, and I’m tired of watching him get away with whatever he decides to do. There are ethical standards for faculty, and being a porn creator should be a violation of those ethical standards. The only reason he keeps getting away with shit is because he’s got rich people who like him.”
That’s a long rant.
“What the fuck, Luis? Did you put that image up in his class?” That's the only explanation for what I’m hearing right now.
Luis jerks, angrily this time. “Yes, of course I did. He should be dismissed for making porn while he’s teaching. He has students subscribed to your account. Faculty even. He’s making a mockery of the university, and he should be ashamed of himself, not lauded as a leader in progressivism.”
My eye twitches as I suppress the anger rising up in me. I’d already written him off as an asshole, but this is way out of line. Obviously we’re in a predicament together, so I take a breath and keep my head level. We need to get out of here, and our chances of survival increase if we’re working together.
“Listen to me, Luis. You're an asshole for what you’ve done, but being an asshole shouldn’t be a death sentence. We need to work together to get out of here, agreed?”
Luis blinks as if he’s just now realizing that we’re in mortal danger right now. “Yeah, agreed. Sorry.”
“I’m not taking apologies from assholes who’re trying to ruin my boyfriend’s career,” I inform him levelly. “The only goal here is to work together to not die because some guy is obsessed with Magnus, right?”
Luis gulps and nods. “Yeah, yeah. Of course.”
I shake my head at him, baffled that he would take Magnus’ life choices so personally. “Why the fuck did you follow us to Cancun?”
Luis looks up at the knot and hook above his head. “It doesn’t matter.”
The barn door creaks open, and we both swivel toward it. The guy who abducted us struts into the barn with a tool box in one hand and a lunchbox in the other.
Dread hollows out my chest as I eye him, trepidation making me want to back away. He sets his things on a makeshift table made of two sawhorses and a plywood board, then he opens the lunch box and digs out a sandwich, shoving a corner of it into his mouth, chewing as he glares at us. The fury is still there in his eyes. I don’t care what it takes, that guy is not touching me again.
“Please don’t,” Luis begs, and I want to tell him to shut up, but my brain refuses to let me bring attention to myself right now.
The guy’s glare lands on Luis. He sets his sandwich down and picks up a heavy looking hammer from his toolbox. “You shouldn’t have fucked with Magnus,” he growls, stalking over to Luis.
Luis kicks at him, but the guy catches his foot and swings him away. He raises the hammer and hits him in the ribs while his back is turned. The crack of bone punctuates the scream it rips out of him.
“Stop!” I yell, suddenly finding my voice. Shit. Fuck!
He turns toward me, rage burning in his face. “I’m going to pull your intestines out of you!” he screams, charging toward me.
I pull up, horse kicking him. He loses his balance and hits the floor with his ass, but he jumps up immediately and runs at me again. I don’t think another horse kick is going to work, and I start to panic, certain I’m about to find out what my insides looklike. I raise a foot, but I saw him spin Luis away, so instead of kicking, I pull myself up as high as I can, catching him between my thighs. His confusion gives me a second to use his body to get my legs higher and I get my thighs around his head.
I don’t know what I’m going to do with this, but I lock in, promising myself that no matter what he does with that hammer, letting him go means death, so I won’t.
He struggles against my hold and hits me with the hammer, but he doesn’t have a good aim, and he starts jerking erratically. I hold on because my life depends on it and take hit after hit with that fucking hammer. He gets me in the back, causing a lance of pain to shoot through me like he just stabbed me. I jerk, screaming in an effort to focus that pain into holding his head even tighter.
He throws himself to the side with all his might, but I’m stronger than that, and my hold doesn’t waver. He loses his footing and a pop vibrates through my legs accompanied by the sickening sound of a bone breaking. A moment later, he goes limp, dragging me down to the full extension of my arms again.
My stomach revolts against what I think just happened, but fear keeps my legs locked with the man collapsed at an unnatural angle beneath me. Panting, I swallow the bile that wants to come up. If I throw up I’ll lose my grip on him, and what if this is just an act. What if he’s just faking it? He’s got to be faking it. He’s got to be. He’s going to kill us.
