"Yes. You should get rid of it."
"I know. I don't know why I didn't think of it before. Pat, you're amazing!" I jumped up.
"You have until noon. You don't have to go yet." She says stopping me in my tracks.
"You're right. I still have an hour. I want to get fixed." My enthusiasm was renewed not that I was very enthused about seeing a therapist but I feel better talking about this to someone.
"Go ahead and continue then. We don't have to talk about your mom."
I was walking to work one morning and I had a really bad feeling in my stomach. I felt nauseous or that I was going to barely escape death. I decided I wanted the money more than a day off so I walked anyways. I was halfway between work and my apartment when I felt strong arms wrap around my waist and a black bag thrown over my head. Bag isn't really the right word more like a hood. I couldn't see out of it but I got free briefly before I was jerked back again this time one arm around my chest and another on my mouth to keep me from screaming. The hood was pulled up a little and a rag was put over my mouth and nose in place of the hand.
When I woke up I was on a hard metal surface but I could feel myself moving. The hood was off but I was bound and gagged. I couldn't tell what was used as the gag but I didn't really care at the moment. I looked up and saw the roof of a van. I was having a hard time sitting up but i finally managed and looked to the front. The passenger looked back at me and I wanted to puke. It was the Muffin man. The one who has been so sweet to me by apologizing and buying me food.
"Lookie there. You finally woke up. I swear I thought I killed you. I wouldn't have meant to. I need you of course. That's why I took you." He unbuckles and moves to sit next to me on the fkoorboard."Now I'm going to take the gag out but if you scream you get hit. Understand?"
I nod. I understood but that doesn't mean the first chance I get I wasn't going to scream. There was no use in a van. No one would be able to hear me.
"Good girl." He says and pats my head as if I was a dog.
"What the hell!?" I yell. "Have you been following me!?"
"Of course. You're dear old dad put my uncle in jail. Do you remember the bail out?" He said in a sickly sweet tone. He was sitting next to me and I really wanted to move away but at the same time closer. Why did he have to make it to where I actually liked him?
"Yeah one point two million dollars for bail. Dude my parents aren't going to give you any money for me." I shrug and scoff at this idea that using me for ransom was going to get his Uncle out of jail.
"That's the thing sweetheart they will." He laughs and puts his hand on my leg. I scoot away from him. He didn't seem to like though. I guess he wasn't used to someone moving away from him. It must be nice to have people throw themselves at you all the time. He grabs my waist and pulls me back roughly and squeezes. It was going to bruise. A big dark purple turns yellow as it heals bruise. I was scared though because his Uncle was -or is- a part of the mafia.I told this man right here who my father was. I practically gave him ammunition on me. If he wasn't so sweet when I first met him this wouldn't have happened. It also doesn't help that he is good looking.
"Your jacket? You left it on purpose." I say while mentally slapping myself. Of course he did. The fact that you're bound in the back of this van means that he has been following you.
"Yes. You're smarter than I thought. You see I also, put a tracker in it so I would know when you left work, home, and any other place so i could learn your habits. That night at the bar wasn't a coincidence. That was planned. I followed you and you're friend and hung out underneath your window all night. You see I would have taken you that night but I was tracking your phone too. You're Mom the overbearing woman she is always calls every morning for two months after a big case. I've been following you for three. Your job, the bar, your home and the route you take and the time it takes you to reach that alleyway."
"But why me? Never mind." I say when he laughs at me. He was still cute it was just a bummer that he was psychotic too. My face was knit in confusion when he said he stayed under my window that night. That must have been him on the dumpster and probably why my window was open. Thank god for my mother being overprotective the way she is.
"Ooooh we're here." He stands and opens the back doors to get out. He turns around and grabs me by my ankle. He pulls and makes my head hit the van floor. He does let me get up by myself though and when he isn't paying any attention I take off into the corn field next to us. I scream at the top of my lungs and the corn leaves are cutting up my face and hands. I felt some blood trickle down my cheek and into my eyebrow. Those will heal easily. I just needed to get away and to someone who could help me. However, I didn't get far before I tripped and I kicked my heels off before getting back up to run. I really hated those things and didn't feel any sorrow to losing them. I felt my legs buckle and a heavy weight fall on top of me holding me down.
He flips me over on my back and gags me again. "I told you not to scream." His smile was evil looking this time and he punches me hitting and breaking my nose. I black out from the pain. When I come to I was swaying as if I was being carried. I lifted my head up and realized my feet were bound this time so now I can't kick. We enter a house I didn't see when I got out the van. It couldn't have been more than a few minutes since I ran into the corn.
I hear doors open and am roughly dropped. I actually felt like he tossed me. I could barely open my eyes and I was groaning from the pain. I was cold and the air felt like it was damp. He handcuffs me the pipe he dropped me by.
"Now," he starts moving his hands up to my face. I force my eyes open and grit my teeth against the pain."We're gonna try this again. You scream you get hit. However I need to keep you pretty so I'll fix up your nose." He takes the gag out of my mouth and unties my hands and feet. I stand up and get light headed easily. My head was pounding and my nose was throbbing. I was still bleeding. I didn't know that a nose could bleed this much. "I suggest you sit down before you faint from the blood rush and the pain." He walks out the door at the far end of the room. I look around at my surroundings and see that I'm in a wine cellar. There was a little book case filled with wine and the door was right across from me. As long as they come down those steps they can see every move I make but I doubt the glass was thin. It was probably bullet proof. I was shocked though that he would even take the time to fix my nose.
He appears in the doorway and I freeze. "Now let's get that nose fixed up." He breaks my nose again to set it and puts a stiff, thick bandage over it to keep it in place. "I want to get all the money I ask for and if you're broke then I won't get it now will I?" He was wearing a smug smile that I couldn't help but find cute. Shaking my head to blow away that thought he looks at me again and smiles. "I knew you would understand." I sigh when I realize he must have been thinking I was answering his question.
I shake my head no. I was too scared to say anything. I was scared he would give me a concussion. I also, knew how most movies made kidnapping situations seem. The main character is brazen and reckless but they end up being saved right before a bullet is put through their head.
"Do you have any questions?"
Before I could stop myself I spit at his feet and look defiantly in his eyes. Well, maybe, the movies had it right. It must be an instinctual thing to being kidnapped. At least with those who are outspoken anyways. Those chocolaty eyes I found so attractive when I first met him are now filled to the brim with rage and another emotion I can't process. He pushes me against the wall forcefully causing my head to bounce against it. My headache worsens and I look him in his eyes again.
"Try this again shall we? Anything to say." He was being a smart ass. Whereas if this was a sexual situation I may enjoy it but this is life or death.
"Yeah. What's your name?" I was genuinely curious and if his Uncle is Montoya Chris Carson then I already have a last name to connect him to. If I get out of here alive.
"Ryan. Is that all?"
"They should have named you P.O.S. instead you piece of shit." He brings me away from the wall and slams me against it again then back hands me across my mouth causing me to bleed. He walks away with a slam of the doors and I pass out into sweet nothingness.