Page 2 of Kaine

“Oh, come on, Jade, please. You’ll be paid overtime, of course.” Harold says.

“Er, yeah. Cos that’s the law. And also, nope!” I say again.

“And I’ll pay for your transport home...a cab!”

“Gee, how generous.” I roll my eyes.

“And...” He stops, but there’s a hint of the look of victory in his eyes that shouldn’t be there.

“Come on, boss, you’re going to have to make me an offer I can’t refuse.”

“I have one ticket left to the gala next month,” he spits out just as I reach his office door. I spin and face him; there’s a twitching at the corner of his mouth to go with the eye glint and we both know why. He knows he’s won.

“Damn!” I curse and hiss at him. It really is an offer I can’t refuse. I’ve worked here for five years and every year have begged and pleaded for a ticket to the gala...in vain.

“Great!! There’s the address and remember those manuscripts are VALUABLE, more valuable than your life!” He rattles off the instruction and waves me out of his office before I can change my mind.

“Some life...” I mutter shuffling back to my office in defeat, staring down at the piece of paper in my hand.

Harriet grins at me as I close our office door behind me and slump into my chair.

“I knew you’d do it for the gala tickets,” she says.

“Wha? How’d you know he offered them?” I ask her a split second before I realize the answer.

“Ha, who do you think told him? I sure as hell wasn’t going to stay late tonight.”

She ducks as a flying tissue box narrowly misses her head.

***

“Oh!!” I jerk awaketo the sound of Adele warbling about a broken heart. I’d set my alarm for 7:45 p.m. and taken a nap on the sofa in the employee lunch room after everyone had left for the day.

“Uhhhhyahhhhh” I yawn as I stretch and slide my feet into my shoes, grabbing the calico bag with the manuscripts and my purse and making my way out the back door.

As the last to leave I have to lock the exits, but the day is slowly fading into night, and I can barely see two feet in front of me as I close the door behind me. I fumble in my bag for my iPhone to use as a torch when I feel a hand reach up and cover my mouth and a sharp object dig into my ribs from the back.

“Ahhhhhh!” I scream, the sound muffled through the gloved hand. My side hurts from the jabbing object and I instantly feel myself break out in a sweat.

“Easy now,” the gruff voice behind me says, low and dark. “We’re not going to hurt you, just give us the money.”

Did he say ‘we’? How many more are there I wonder. I can’t see in the dark and the hand covering my mouth keeps my head from turning.

“I-I don’t have any money. Just what’s in my purse, you can take that. Please,” I try to say against the hand on my mouth, pleading. I just want them to leave. And leave me alone.

“Shut up, bitch! Don’t lie to us. Give me the bag with the money in it and I’ll let you go,” he says again.

“I-I told you, there’s no money, it’s just old manuscripts.” I hug them to my chest purely out of comfort, like a security blanket.

“Told you, chief, I knew there’d be nothing here,.” another male voice speaks up to my right, out of my line of sight.

Please, God, just let me get out of this alive. I silently pray to a God I’ve never spoken to before this moment.

“I don’t believe her.” The man holding me jabs his weapon harder against my ribs and I whimper as I feel the blade break through my skin, it stings. “I’m not afraid to hurt you, but I won’t if you give me the money.”

I can feel my shirt grow damp where he’s jabbed me, and the thought of blood is making me feel faint. I drop the bag on the ground, more out of dizziness than surrender.

“Thattagirl,” the voice says, the sound grating in my ears. He kicks the bag to the right as he continues to hold me tight, pulling back on the knife in my back. A tiny whisper of relief ripples through me.