by Jillian Kidd
With well-manicured, tanned hands, Adrian took the slender porcelain-white bottle of warm Japanese liquor and poured it into a tiny square cup. I took a sip and nodded my head, even though I was sure that fresh dog piss probably tasted better.
“I’m not sure if he liked us more,” said Adrian. “Father just wasn’t as interested in the brewery business. We seemed born to it.”
“Speaking of Albert, where did he go?” Mom asked, taking her chopsticks and picking at a flat plate of transparent baby octopus and shredded onions. “Mina, try this salad. It’s divine!”
I used the slender end of one of my chopsticks to impale a tentacle and rolled it around in my mouth before biting down and chewing approximately 1,253 times before I was able to swallow.
“Mmm,” I said, taking a sip of sake to wash it down. Great, now I needed something to get the sake taste out of my mouth. “So who’s Albert? Your brother, I’m guessing, Adrian?”
“Sorry, I had to use the little boys’ room,” said a voice over my shoulder.
I looked up, then had to do a double-take. I thought Adrian had been sitting down? I turned. Well, Adrian was still sitting down. I looked back at the standing man. They looked exactly alike.
“This is Albert,” Adrian said.
Albert took my hand and gave it a kiss.
“Oh, you must be twins!” I said, finally getting it.
Albert took a seat right next to me, staring into my eyes a little too dreamily for my taste.
“Of course,” he said. “But technically I am the younger one, since I came out of the womb second.”
Mom laughed so hard I thought she’d turn purple.
“That is so funny!” she said. “Isn’t it funny that they’re twins, Mina?”
I let out a nervous chuckle, not liking at all the way that Albert continued to stare at me. I mean, the food was on the table. I wasn’t edible, as his gaze so implied.
A waitress came by, and Mom ordered a sample of pretty much everything on the menu. I’d go for the California Rolls since they had cooked meat in them. I raised my hand and asked for a glass of water. As soon as the waitress left, an uneasy silence fell on the table.
The twins’ eyes darted back and forth from my mother to me. I studied my napkin, trying to think of something to say, some conversation starter, but I was just so damned wiped out from all that crying that I was doing well simply sitting up in my chair. The live musician strummed an ambient little tune on the zither, whose sound mixed with the low chatter of the large dining room.
The twins started talking about some German movie, and Mom acted all interested in it. Fake, fake, fake. I, on the other hand, began to stare into space. Interesting how everyday things can seem so surreal when you’ve just been dealt an emotional blow. Little things like the grainy texture of wallpaper or the halo of brightness around an electric lamp. Like a sedative, exhaustion weighed me down and sent me into another realm. The strong Mina deep down was trying to tell me that the pain would pass, but all I could think about was how I’d been utterly lied to for so long. I’d been purposely kept in the dark. Deceived. What else was hidden from me? Who else was lying to me? What horrible truths would I find out next?
Finally, Mom broke my brooding.
“Mina,” she said, and I looked at her. “I showed Albert your pictures quite a while ago.” She smiled. “He wanted to know more about you. So I told him about what a well-rounded person you are, having gone to college, and how you’re working as a journalist.”
“Oh, yeah?” I said. Funny how she’d failed to mention to him I was also a bounty hunter. Then again, Mom usually failed to register anything to do with bounty hunting. “Journalism’s in the blood, I suppose. Started with my grandfather.” I glanced at Albert. “I guess we have that in common.”
He smiled dreamily, and I felt my foot anxiously start to tap. Willing it to stop, I picked up a chopstick and began to twirl it over my empty appetizer plate.
“Yes, well,” Mom continued with a coy look in her eyes, “Albert has fallen in love with you from a distance, and he would like to court you.”
The chopstick made a horribly loud clattering noise as I dropped it onto my plate.
I could feel the red flush creeping up my cheeks. I met Mom’s eyes, death threats shooting out of my green orbs. If she sensed them, she ignored them.
“That is, if you’re still single, dear,” she said, her voice cool, subtly telling me that I had a way out, but I’d better not take it because this was an opportunity she’d worked her ass off for. “Albert’s a wonderful man with quite a fortune.”
“I—I’m not sure what to say,” I said, my hands trembling with rage. I wanted to strangle my mother. “I’m literally speechless.”
Mom kicked back the rest of her sake, and smiled from ear to ear. “He’s quite taken with you, Mina!” Her shrill voice lifted a little too loud, and the table next to us craned their necks to see what was making that racket. “Would you give him a chance?”
“I—I’d have to think—”
“And the best part?” Mom said, grasping my forearm in her long-nailed grip. “We could be sisters!”
She smiled an open-mouthed grin, and I nearly fainted.
This was another nightmare. Any minute now the sharp-toothed Roberto was going to come into the restaurant and drag me away in chains, which would be preferable to this nausea-inducing situation. But after the pressure of Mom’s nails started to hurt, I peeled each of her fingers off of me, and resigned myself to the fact that all this was really happening.
“Of course, I would only be inclined to court Mina if she were willing,” Albert said. “I would hate to pressure anyone into anything.”
“She’s not feeling pressured!” Mom said. “Are you, Mina? Only a little bitty date or two?”
“Pressured,” I said, my voice barely audible. The room was starting to spin. “I—I just wasn’t really expecting anything like—”
“It’s not a problem,” Albert said, looking sadly down into his lap. “I only found you so beautiful that all common sense left me.”
I breathed in a deep breath and slowly let it out.
“I’ll sleep on it,” I finally said.
Albert looked as if I’d just told him he’d won a million dollars.
“Thank you, Mina!” he said, kissing my hand.
I tried not to recoil too quickly. It would be a lot easier in a couple of days, on the phone, during the bright and clear afternoon hours, to explain to him a few things: one, that I wasn’t a reporter. Two, that I didn’t like sushi. And three, that I was getting over a relationship and needed time before bouncing into a new one. Perhaps, given a few months of no contact, Mom would’ve broken up with Adrian, and Albert would’ve found someone new.
A couple days would also give me plenty of time to change my phone number and not tell my mother.
The food came, and everyone (besides me) ate kings’ portions. I picked at my California rolls and chewed on some onions, while Adrian and Mom talked about their exotic wedding plans in an old German cathedral. Poor Adrian probably didn’t realize that Mom would probably melt if she walked into a church, sort of like vampires when crucifixes were shoved onto their flesh.
I giggled quietly, imagining my mother bursting into flames and screaming in her smoking wedding gown after getting too close to the holy water.
“What’s so funny, darling?” Mom said, her eyes droopy from too much drink.
“Oh, nothing. I just think it’s cute how in love you two are.”
Adrian had his arm entwined with Lucille’s, and she was nearly sitting in his lap. Pitiful Albert had remained stock still in his chair, giving hopeful little glances at me all throughout the meal. I hadn’t returned any of them. Karma was going to get my mother back dearly for all this.
After all plates were taken up, and the restaurant chatter died down as patrons went home, I pushed back my chair.
“Well, I’d better get going, Mom,” I said.
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Albert rushed to stand up and take my hand. Gulping down my feminist pride, I let him help me out of my seat, old degenerate woman that I was, and give the back of my hand yet another smooch. I was going to have a permanent German-man mouth-mark on that spot after tonight.
“Pleasure to have met you, Mina,” he said.
“Yes, pleasure,” said Adrian, whose leg was now wrapped around Mom’s. It was like watching the next world record take place for The Most Entwined Two Bodies on the Planet contest. “Hope to be seeing you soon!”
“Same to both of you,” I said, unable to stop a yawn. I covered my mouth with my hand. “Excuse me!”
“Byyyye, Mina!” Mom sang. Then she emitted a piercing giggle as Adrian kissed underneath her ear. “Thanks for meeting with us, dear!”
“May I walk you out?” Albert asked quietly, his eyes begging for me to say yes.
I just couldn’t. Couldn’t keep on the mask one more minute. Too tired.
“Oh, that won’t be necessary,” I said as nicely as possible. “I’ll be fine.”
He nodded, sad but dignified.
Looking back, I should’ve let him walk me out.
Without a doubt, I should have let him walk me out.
I might have completely avoided the next several days of torment if I’d let him be a gentleman and escort me safely to my car.
But as it happened, I didn’t.
I left the sushi bar and walked into the dark.
Again, I became distracted with misery. I felt like my feet were someone else’s, the air around me touching someone else’s skin. It was a dream.
When I turned onto the dimly lit street, it seemed even more quiet and ominous than before.
I snapped out of my haze. I had the distinct feeling that I was being followed. Slowing down my pace, I gulped. I was definitely being followed.
The pointed nose of a laser gun pressed into my back.
“Now, don’t make a sound,” said a man’s voice. “Show me your hands are empty.”
I dropped my keys, opening up my hands and holding them a short distance from my thighs.
“I’m not armed,” I said, wishing—while cursing myself—that I had been. The one night I decide not to pack my gun. “You from the hotel?”
“Why how’d you guess?”
I shrugged. “Luck o’ the Irish.”
A black hover car with dark tinted windows pulled up next to me, and another man, in a suit and sunshades, also with a gun, hopped out of the front seat. He quickly looked both ways down the street then opened the back door—apparently for my captor and me to get in. I didn’t move. I’d try to stall until I had a plan. Unfortunately, since my back was to him, and the other guy was armed, I didn’t have many ideas.
“This is incredibly illegal, you realize,” I said. “You could go to jail for it.”
“I’m willing to take the risk.”
“I guess you don’t know who I am,” I said, silently praising the Powers that Be that I’d left all my identification in my car if these goofballs didn’t know who I was.
“We don’t know your name, but the boss recognized your picture right away. He’d ordered us to take snapshots of any attractive redhead in town. He was looking for one in particular. Turns out, it was you. He’s had everyone on lookout since. And personally,”—he breathed into my ear—”I’m glad it was someone so sexy. I’ve kept your picture by my bed at night for a little personal inspiration.”
“How sweet.” A creepy sensation crawled up my neck. I had a big hunch about who their boss was. “I’m always glad to be an inspiration.”
“Come with me, please,” said the man, pushing the gun to my back, leading me toward the vehicle. “The boss’ll be so happy to see you again.”
18
Another man sat in the backseat, waiting for me.
Great. There were four of them. A girl with no weapon didn't have very good odds of going against four armed thugs, even if that girl was Mina Maxwell.
How could I have been so stupid?
I’d broken three of the major rules of staying safe at night.
I’d parked in the dark, away from lights and other people.
I’d walked out alone.
I’d been daydreaming about how miserable I was thanks to Damon and hadn’t been paying attention to my surroundings.
We started driving away from the badly lit street and onto heavily trafficked roads. Dad was going to kill me, provided I got out of this alive. The vehicle smelled of stale cigars, the warm leather seats creaking as the kidnapper in the front passenger seat reached over to strap himself in. The man who’d earlier held the gun against my back now poked it under my ribs. I stayed stock still, just in case he happened to be trigger-happy. I studied his face in the dim light of the streetlamps. He had no outstanding features, except for the jagged little scar on his nose.
All four men wore practically the same dark suit, their dark hair closely cropped, their eyes hidden behind designer sunglasses. Why was it that packs of cronies all looked alike? Did they follow some flock mentality, even when it came to getting dressed in the morning or going to the barber? I imagined all of them holding hands, skipping toward the Ray-Ban kiosk in the mall, pointing to the latest upgrade of shades, shrieking, “I’ll take those, please!”
Hey, you have to laugh in impossibly shitty situations like the one I was in, or you’ll freeze up or cry. And then the bad guys know they have an advantage. Better to stay loose and light. Believe me, you can find humor in just about anything if you try.
“Where’d you get that scar?” I asked the man with the jabbing gun. “Try to French kiss a badger?”
He scowled. “Shut the hell up.”
I sensed movement beside me. I stared forward, but out of the corner of my eye, I saw the man to my left was digging in a rather large brown bag. Whatever he was doing, I didn’t like it.
“So how exactly do you know you have the right person?” I asked. “You took a picture. So what? I could have a twin. Plus, the camera adds 10 pounds, doesn’t it? At least, that’s what I was told.”
“Boss was adamant it was you,” said Mr. Gun. “He swore on his life, actually. Now shut your mouth like I told you to.”
“So! Where are we going?” I asked, nonchalantly, as if I got kidnapped every day.
“You’ll see,” he said. “Do me a favor.”
“What?”
“Hold still.”
Suddenly the man to my left threw his arm around my neck, and I found myself gasping for air as the crook of his elbow squeezed down against my windpipe. I grabbed at his arm, digging my nails into flesh. I felt him flinch in pain, but he held firm—the man was as strong as an ox! Though he kept his gun pointed at my head, Mr. Gun seemed delighted at my struggle, even licked his lips. Maybe he really had tried to make out with a badger, the perv.
I could feel the blood pounding in my ears and knew my face must’ve been a really interesting shade of purple by then. Little black spots danced in front of my eyes. My lungs felt on fire. I tried to call out for him to stop, but all that came out of my clenched teeth was:
“Grrrg!”
Just when I thought I was about to see the mythical white light and float on off to heaven, a cool, moist cloth covered my mouth. The strangler released just enough on my throat so that I could breathe in. When I took a gasping breath, I tasted medicinal fumes. My world swirled madly and then went black.
* * *
I blinked, trying to get the blurry room into focus. It was like trying to see underwater. I lifted my hands and rubbed the heels of my palms against my eyelids. Blinking rapidly, the fuzzy forms took sharp shape.
“Oh, great,” I said, my mouth going dry.
I didn’t know if it was a reaction to the sedative or not, but my I felt little trembles run down my body.
“We meet again, little flower,” said Roberto.
Only he didn’t look like he did that night at the club, or in my nightmares. He wore blue doc
tors’ scrubs with a stethoscope draped around his neck. His dark hair was slicked back. Little golden spectacles rested on his nose. He took them off and put them in his pocket. Smiling at me like a tiger that had finally cornered his elusive prey, he approached the mattress I lay on—or rather, was chained to.
A leg shackle connected my right foot to a rail underneath the propped-up hospital bed. The walls were tiled a pale shade of green. A silver tray with syringes, cotton balls, and—holy crap—a speculum, rested against the wall. The room smelled of lemony disinfectant. I had a feeling I was going to have trouble drinking tea with lemon in it for quite a while after this delightful experience.
“Tell me,” Roberto said, putting a hand on my bare leg. “What is your name?”
Then I realized it—I was completely naked.
“I’ll tell you that when you give me back my clothes,” I said, more than a little mortified.
He breathed out a laugh, reached under the bed and pulled out a folded blanket. Draping it across my waist, he smiled.
“Not good enough,” I said, covering my breasts with my arms.
“I have to say, you were quite clever that night,” he said. “I didn’t see that coming.”
“Few do.”
“Tell me your name.”
“Nope.”
“Are you a cop?”
“No.”
“Some sort of angel of destruction, then? A nameless goddess? You had no identification on you when my men captured you. Do you always make it a habit to go without ID?”
“Sure,” I said. “What do angels of destruction need ID’s for?”
“You got lucky,” he said, his smile fading. “If I had known your name, I would have found you sooner.”
“What do you want from me, Roberto? If you want revenge, then just get it over with. Kill me. Justice served.”
“Oh, but then your charms would go unused, and you have such a rare beauty about you that many customers would surely pay in the millions to own you. Do you see that camera?” He pointed to the top of the metal sliding door directly behind him. “That will watch your every move and stream it to me. When I leave here, there will be a guard watching the door at all times as an extra precaution. You will stay here until the time is right, and then, my precious flower, you will be sold to the highest bidder.”
