“Or else something bad happens to Monica.”
“No,” I cried.
“Or else something bad happens to Trey.”
“No. Leave them the fuck alone,” I screamed with the walls of the smoke filled cave echoing my cry back to me.
“Or else something bad happens to you!”
I sobbed until the dark figure reached out and grabbed my throat. His vice like grip choked off my ability to breathe. I beat at his hands, and his arms, and his big burly chest.
I felt the slam of the gun against the side of my head. Pain rippled through my skull like hail on a tin roof.
The black figure walked away. I could see him in my side mirror. He pulled off his mask and looked back at me. Stu stared at me, his lips turning up into an evil smirk.
I knew it. It was Stu that attacked me in the garage.
I had to tell Dirk. I looked for him but couldn’t find him. Flying across the city, I zoomed to his office, my office, and the places I had been with him. The Penthouse. The Cherry Pie Gentleman’s Club.
He sat there in his usual chair. Twenty-dollar bills laid out in front of him. Heather danced for him and he rewarded her for her talents. Her assets. She was gorgeous.
I stormed over to him, but I felt that too familiar tug on my wrist. I glanced back, and the handcuff held me fast. Again. Turning my head, I focused on Dirk again.
Carol now danced for Mr. Dark Eyes. With her brunette hair and the big jugs her husband loved, she jiggled them in his face. He was sliding twenties into the red thong that hugged her waist and curvaceous hips.
“Dirk. Dirk. I need to tell you something. It’s important.”
Twenty after twenty slid into place until she looked like she was wearing a hula dress. A hula dress of cash.
“Dirk. It was Stu. Stu assaulted me in my garage.”
I felt jealous and angry as Dirk couldn’t pull his attention from Carol. Suddenly, Heather danced with her and a few of the regulars. Even the cocktail waitresses danced for Dirk. Their hands were on him.
His hands were on them.
“Dirk! Please!”
I turned my attention to my shackles and tugged on the cuffs. Throwing everything I had into pulling on them, trying to break the chain. It was no use. I pulled on the chain, moving hand over hand, following the chain into the black smoke.
I had to find what secured me to this chain. What kept me from reaching Dirk? Soon, he, the club, and his horde of admirers disappeared until I couldn’t hear the music or their voices anymore.
Following the chain into the darkness, I felt tired. I needed to rest. A filthy bed appeared as I continued to pull on the chain. It led me to the bed and the other cuff fastened to the bed.
The bed, a futon, was gross. Disgusting, in fact, and I couldn’t bring myself to lie down on it.
When my eyes drooped and my shoulders sagged, I couldn’t fight it any longer. I lay down on the bed and everything turned dark again. Relief washed over me like the dark waters of a lake.
* * *
“Wake up, Reggie.”
I stirred on the bed. The smell of mold and dust filled my nostrils. My head throbbed and when I tried to rise, I cried out in pain and fell back onto the bed.
Blackness followed.
* * *
“Where are you, Reggie?”
