by Rowena
“It’s been a long time too. Did you know that?” Butch says, his stoic face still turned in my direction.
I’m pretty sure now that he’s talking to me, but I still don’t know what to say—it’s weird to have him suddenly speak like this.
My alarm bells are ringing loud and off-key.
“I took pleasure in knowing he was pining after you,” Butch continues.
“I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about...” I begin but I’m interrupted by a flurry of action near my parked car—two guys fighting.
Butch springs to action.
“Let me get you out of here,” he says as he leads me toward his.
My mind is swirling.
Too much is going on between processing the strange text, the fight near my car, and Butch’s odd line of conversation.
“There she is!” I hear one of the guys say, but Butch is soon opening his back door for me and shoving me in, slamming the door behind me.
It takes me a second to realize someone else is in there, and by that time, Butch is already in the driver’s seat, and the other guy is reaching for me.
I hear the sound of doors locking as the strange guy holds something over my nose and mouth.
When I come to, I notice immediately that I’m sitting in a chair with my arms tied behind me.
Shit, my jeans are gone.
But the good news is that my panties are still on, as well as my top, so I’m still covered outside of my thighs and calves on display. Could’ve been worse.
I’m not panicking just yet; emotion is what disadvantages people at crucial times.
I need to stay calm and catalog everything, figure out things I can use in my favor and against the people behind this. Which I think includes Butch?
I shake my head, blink my eyes, then look around, my eyes slowly adjusting to the room.
It’s kind of cold in here.
The room is empty except for me in my chair, and a couple of dudes off to the side, their faces hidden behind ski masks.
Oh, and the tripod and camera opposite me.
One of the guys moves to stand behind the camera.
“Hey, Angel. You look beautiful as ever.”
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” I say as the voice registers and the mask comes off. “You?”
“In the flesh, baby. You missed me?” Leonard says with a wide fake smile showing off perfectly straight, perfectly white teeth; his vanity would allow no less, and his bank accounts can certainly feed it.
“This can’t be real,” I say, shaking my head. “You can’t possibly be serious.”
“Oh, it’s very real. Didn’t I tell you I’d come for you soon? And now here we are, and there you are ‘helpless to my desires.’ I’ll blindfold you, as promised. I just needed you to take a look. I didn’t do all of this not to get credit.”
“What exactly is your plan here?”
“I’m going to film what will no doubt be your most viewed video ever!” he says happily. “Your followers will love it—you, finally stripped down instead of teasing. Piece by piece we’ll remove your clothing—it’ll be sorted out in edits—and everyone will see the real you fully revealed. It will be epic.”
“How the hell do you expect to get away with this?”
“Easy. You don’t think I’ll be on camera, by any chance, do you? ‘Cause it’s definitely all about you, baby—attention-whore extraordinaire. Once that camera is on, you won’t hear a peep from me either. Once we’re done, no sign of me will be found here. None of you either. My alibi’s already in place, so you can rant all you want about your ex being behind it.” He sighs dramatically. “It’s sad really, that you got so desperate for more views and subscribers that you staged a kidnapping, and even went so far as to give people a little more skin in a way that ensures you end up smelling like a rose. That is, if it wasn’t so transparent what you were doing. Once everyone has seen all you have to offer and witnessed your batshit desperation, then what, Angel?”
“You’re telling me you had nothing better to do than stalk me? Then, in addition to the colossal amount of time invested in watching my business, you actually spent money to do all of this? How much did you pay these other guys involved? Enough to keep their mouths shut forever? You sure they won’t turn on you if someone offered them a bit more? Like Butch?Something tells me he’s a weak link.”
“He’ll be long gone. He’s getting deployed again in two weeks, so good luck tracking him down to vouch for you before then. Why would he even help you? Or James? I paid him nicely.”
“How did you even know you could buy him?”
“Apparently, he has beef with James and he’s been holding a grudge for years. I heard just about everything that went on in your apartment, Angel, and once James mentioned Butch, I intercepted him and offered him a deal he couldn’t refuse. I’ve been listening in on you for a while—among other things. Hey, you’re not so bad when singing to yourself.”
“Wow. I figured out you were controlling, hence why I left your ass, but I had no idea you were this insane. Let me get this straight—I thwarted your wishes, ignored your messages, blocked you in every possible way, making it clear I never wanted to hear from you again, that I had no need for you and was no longer fooled by thinking I had feelings for you, so now, to get control back...” I shake my head in disbelief. Not just at him—at myself; I should’ve guessed.
But it’s really hard to think someone who’d been close to you could go off the rails and work so hard to harm you.
It’s one thing to intellectually comprehend the idea of the closest people to you being the most potentially dangerous, quite another to put it to work.
“You don’t know what’s good for you,” Leonard spits. “You act like you’re so strong and independent, pretend like you’re smart, but you’re neither. You play like you’re classy and modest, but I’m glad others will see you’re none of those things. You won’t look so respectable once your relationship with James comes to light.” He makes a frustrated gesture. “By the way, how could you?”
“What are you talking about?”
“I actually watched you guys once. By the way, you should know by now that practically anyone with some skill can hack your computer camera. For crying out loud, at least close your computer if you’re gonna fuck my friends. I can still hear but at least not watch you in your slutty glory.” He pauses, his eyes raking over my body. Then he smiles a reptilian smile. “You see, I can help you, baby. Show you all the ways you failed to protect yourself. I can help protect you.”
“You...you watched us?”
Somehow, that freaks me out almost more than the rest.
I feel so colossally violated, spied on in the most intimate of moments.
“Well, as you know, it takes two,” I say lightly, pretending to recover. I do not want to give him the satisfaction of horrifying me. “Damn, no matter what, the woman gets blamed. Your friend was your friend before I was your woman, so...” I shrug. “Maybe figure out why no one considers you worthy of loyalty.”
He makes a hissing sound. “I really don’t want to leave a mark on your cheek before we start filming. Watch yourself.”
It’s obvious he’s not going to kill me, so he can go fuck himself—I’m happy to let loose.
“You know what? This all makes sense; you’re petty as fuck, always been. I mean, you’re actually going to risk your reputation, your freedom on showing me what? Your power to disturb my peace? You really think you’ll bring me down with this stunt? My god, how did I not see how pathetic you were from the get-go?”
“Okay, that’s it.” He makes a gesture toward one of the guys, and it’s clear I’m about to be gagged.
Whatever. He can shut me up all he wants, but my words are already in the air, stinging him with truth.
He’s so pathetic, he’s trying to make sure I don’t thrive without him after dumping him. His ego has made him batshit!
The guy who gagged me p
ulls out a knife and cuts through my blouse before I realize what’s happening.
He doesn’t stop until it’s in tatters on the floor and I’m sitting there in my bra.
Then he cuts that off too.
Fuck.
“Almost there!” Leonard says in an exaggerated excited voice. “Wow, I’ve missed those tits. You want me to suck ‘em? Get those nipples nice and hard for their worldwide debut?” he says as he adjusts the camera. “I might just do it anyway for my own pleasure. Maybe tug my dick while doing it.”
I cuss like a sailor behind the gag and he laughs.
“Don’t forget to arch your back for maximum perkiness!” he says.
The goon with the knife slices through my panties.
11
James
Aaron finally arrives, looking like an owl with his placid face and round glasses. And also like a transformer. He has one normal leg, and one made from the best technology, apparently.
I shake hands with him, trying to see the resemblance between him and the beauty my buddy Derek married—this guy’s sister. They both have smooth brown skin—hers darker, but that’s about it.
“Let me check the space real quick,” Aaron says, then gets to work.
Eventually, he sits in front of Angel’s computer which I’ve set up for him.
“Well, her computer camera has definitely been hacked,” he says at some point.
I’m a bit surprised, but mostly focused on reaching Angel—she hasn’t responded to any of my texts since confirming arrival at the coffee shop.
A few minutes later, Aaron says, “Christ, does this girl know anything about internet security?”
“Isn’t ‘internet security’ a delusion?” I say, finally turning my attention to him.
“Certain steps can be taken to reduce the likelihood of getting your info jacked by just about anyone.”
Several nerve-wracking minutes later, he spins to give me a look, one that worries me.
“What?” I say roughly.
“Whoever this is, they made it seem like you’re behind it.”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“They put enough pieces out there to point to you—all these anonymous messages from ‘J’ sent from your locations, for example. And then there’s this.”
He points to a recent email to Angel’s Lailah account. From me.
Better late than never, Angel. You should have been mine all along. I’m glad you finally let me in.
“Is this your actual email address?” Aaron asks, pointing at it.
“Yeah, but I didn’t write that.”
“It came from an IP in this vicinity.”
“This is impossible.”
“Definitely not impossible. Anyone who can get into your email account can send an email from it—pretty simple stuff. Do you stay signed in? Is your password a word in the dictionary? You’d be surprised how easily or quickly someone can hack in, especially if they’re close to you.”
“Come on, no one will believe I tried to terrorize her. I… I have feelings for her. I’ve been protecting her.”
“Doesn’t matter. It’s all about where paths lead. You’ll look caught with your hand in the cookie jar, so to speak, and you’re actually exactly the type people will buy as guilty—authorities always look to the closest person to the victim—the significant other, in most cases—and in this case, it’s you. This guy has done several minor things to point to you—some basic, but some pretty damned savvy, beyond what I’ve shown you. Whoever this is, he’s good...” I can hear the ‘but’ coming, and relief starts taking over me, knowing we’re at least one step closer, “…but not that good. He made a lot of mistakes, particularly with Twitter. If the average person tried to track him down, he might’ve succeeded in ducking them.”
“Well, obviously you’re not here because you’re average.”
He breaks a tiny smile, turning back to the computer.
Something’s wrong.
I know Angel wanted a bit of space during the day, but not answering any of my texts and calls? Not even to coordinate the changing of the guard, so to speak?
This can’t be right.
Finally, I text Butch directly.
Butch, what the fuck? Where’s Angel? You’re with her, right?
After a few painstaking seconds, Butch responds with just a smiley face, and my hair stands on end.
Usually, it takes far more than an emoji to rattle my cage, but with Angel missing, last in his custody, the odd response gives me the creeps.
Nothing can happen to her—not when we’ve made such progress. Not when I’m finally in a place where it’s okay to let her know how I feel about her.
I tell myself I’m probably just being paranoid.
Maybe Butch is keeping a particularly close eye right now and can’t be bothered sending a full message…
My phone buzzes with another text.
Let’s see you fail to protect once more. See how you feel when you lose something you love.
Dread fills me as I stare at the text from Butch.
Now I know for sure that something has gone wrong and that the guy I trusted to look out for Angel had a direct hand in it.
Maybe I should’ve known better, but Butch made it clear to me in every possible way that he was still cool with me, that he didn’t blame me for what happened with his brother.
It was one of those situations where a split-second decision meant that I ended up whisked away to safety while his brother was shot to death. The way it went down, everyone agreed they would have done the same—an Afghan trainee had turned on us and the result was pure luck of the draw.
I was sure Butch wasn’t holding the incident against me—he’d said so himself.
But I suppose it’s tough to look at someone who made it out of the same situation that claimed the life of a loved one. It’s hard not to resent the survivor to some degree.
Guess Butch was just biding his time to get back at me, or perhaps he simply saw a convenient opportunity, suddenly realizing he held his brother’s death against me after all.
But there’s no excuse for what he has done—bringing an innocent person into this.
Don’t do this to me, Butch, I text back. She has nothing to do with anything. Your beef is with me.
No answer comes, and the room feels like it’s closing in.
Angel is clearly in danger, and with Butch’s betrayal, I’m at a severe disadvantage for finding her.
I switch gears and head outside for some fresh air, then compose a new text; I’m going to have to gather up all the resources I can.
I need you, I send Derek.
My phone rings less than a minute later.
“What do you need?”
“Butch betrayed me. He was supposed to watch her for me, but something’s wrong.”
“Shit.”
“I’ll need some men to help me find her and deal with the people behind it.”
“Got it,” Derek says. “See you soon.”
I hang up and head back inside, remembering one of my greatest assets is still in there.
Aaron can help me find her, and my comrades will help me deal with the folks behind her kidnapping.
I barely take two steps when Aaron suddenly says triumphantly, “Leonard Jeremiah Hall. That’s who it all leads to.”
I’m vaguely aware of his wide grin suddenly disappearing as the name sinks in.
“What, you know this guy?” he asks, his eyes intently on my face as the door closes behind me.
Know him? I went to school with him, graduated with him. We hit up bars together, bitched about girls together. If I ever had a wedding, I figured he’d be among the groomsmen.
Leonard, a guy who has known me since junior high, could definitely figure out my email password, among other things.
“Yeah,” I say simply. “And it seems he has her in his possession as we speak. Do you think you can figure out where she is?”
“I
will,” he says, turning back to the equipment.
Everything is coming together.
I’m armed with information, and additional manpower quickly arrived, thanks to connections with helicopter access.
Affection hits me once Derek’s ruggedly handsome face comes into view.
He’s rocking a full beard, and his hair isn’t in a familiar cut either—his dark locks are free and I find myself envious of his freedom from the high-stress, high-fatality nature of our work.
Retirement sure looks good.
Even if Angel decides she doesn’t want me after all, maybe it’s about time I leave all the Rambo shit to the next age group and find a different line of work, something less life-threatening, more stable.
I’d already arranged military separation, but I’d been considering remaining in the reserves.
I momentarily feel bad for dragging Derek out of his ‘retirement’ and away from his growing family.
“Don’t worry about it,” he says, apparently reading my mind. Or my slightly guilty-looking face. “You scratched my back, I’ll scratch yours. I still owe you and I’m happy to repay the debt. What are we dealing with here?”
“Just found out an old friend of mine’s been stalking my girl and kidnapped her in the past few hours or so. Gotta find her and deal with him.”
It won’t matter that Leonard and I saw each other through sprouting chest hairs and deepening voices, that we made all sorts of promises—if Leonard has hurt my Angel, he might as well be a stranger for all the pity I’ll take on him.
I shake my head. “What is it with us, man? Why do people—especially civvies—try us and fuck with our women?”
“I don’t know, but another’s one’s gonna learn today. ”
Aaron found the location so easily, he’d wondered if it was a trap, but it didn’t matter—it was our only lead.
My men and I get to the old warehouse and storm it, clearly surprising the four occupants.
Rage fills me as I see Angel strapped to a chair, wearing something she wasn’t wearing this morning—a red corset and matching panties.
