He shoved his bound wrists into her crotch inadvertently causing her to jolt back and into something hard. Her fingers immediately went to work on the twine as her eyes narrowed in the surrounding darkness.
“What’s your name?” the voice asked as her fingers searched and found the ends of the twine, immediately picking and clawing at the tight knot.
“Agh.”
“Hi, Agh. I’m Eddie. Could you hurry up?”
A grunt of frustration sounded in the small area as she continued to poke, prod and pick at the knot. Make that knots. Apparently their captor wanted to make good and sure Eddie couldn’t free himself. Twine sucked. Seriously. Note to self: if you ever tie someone up? Use twine…
Her fingers kept up their relentless pursuit of loosening the very top knot, her fingernails scraping and pulling, scratching and jiggling the sharp splintery fibrous material that was beginning to feel like a thousand needles to her fingertips. Every once in a while he would jab his hands back in frustration and bark out something encouraging like “Come on”, or “Hurry it up”, sometimes throwing in a little something extra by means of swearing at her. It was almost enough to make her cease completely just to make a point. Unfortunately, it was not the time to be resentful especially since she was being chauffeured around in a trunk by some lunatic all the while sharing a limited amount of dark, confined space with the world’s most unappreciative tool.
“What the hell are you doing back there? Any day…”
“Oooo argh aghhhhh…ohhh.” Translation: “You’re an asshole…”
“What?”
“Uggh!” she grunted in frustration as his hands jabbed behind him once again making her lose her grip on the knot that was now loosened enough to the point she could poke her finger through. She moved her legs up and kneed him in his pudgy ass.
“Hey! What the hell?”
“AawwwEeeee,” she apologized half-heartedly as her fingers once again went to work.
Two knots loosened before her fingers stilled. The drone of the pavement and the speed of travel changed dramatically after the vehicle turned abruptly. The pace was much slower, the smooth road became bumpy. The sound of gravel popping beneath the tires was almost obscenely loud.
“Comeoncomeoncomeon!” he chanted as his wrists flopped up and down causing her fingers to slip off of knot number three. Her fingers became even more frenzied as another knot then another loosened. He was moving his wrists back and forth as another knot loosened before his hands were removed from her touch.
“Yes! Oh, you’re an angel. I’m gonna kill this bastard then I’m gonna take you somewhere and screw your brains out!”
“Ugh?”
“You owe me. Plus you have a nice bod. It doesn’t even matter what you look like. You have nice tits…”
HUH?! He would know since his freed hands were now roaming over her body. She squirmed, she kicked, she grunted as his big hands touched any surface of her body that they could get to.
“Get down and free my legs. Hurry.”
Perfect. Which one was the lesser evil, the psycho kidnapper up front or the serial rapist in the back?
“Uh, uh.” She scooched as far back as possible, her back once again hitting whatever that hard object was…
“Come on. Get down there.” He grabbed a fistful of her hair and tugged to point her in the right direction. It was completely unnecessary and totally painful. No way was she helping him now.
“Uh ,uh…oooohh aaayy.” She swatted his hands away as well as she could in the confined space. The car stopped and she could hear her heart beating in the ensuing silence, or was that her pulse? Whatever it was, it was practically pounding at this point.
“Damn,” she heard Eddie mutter before the door slammed and shook the entire car. No footsteps, no telltale sound of any kind outside. She could feel Eddie’s body turn toward the front of the trunk. His hands must have been shoved behind him; his fingertips were touching her upper thigh.
“You ready, Baby? Watch this…” he whispered.
Anticipation, apprehension and adrenalin combined and coursed through her body as they waited in silent darkness.
Her eyes darted everywhere, seeing nothing. It was so unnerving. Maybe he was dousing the car in gasoline? Maybe he was getting ready to push it into a lake…
Oh god. Burning or drowning – quite possibly the worst ways to die. It was going to be horribly excruciating…
The trunk popped with an almost explosive click and she immediately scrunched herself as far as possible back into that damn sharp object yet again. Light from the moon illuminated their captor as he made a grab for her trunk mate. Eddie’s bulky body slammed back into hers before being removed and dragged from the trunk. It appeared as if he was planning a sneak attack evidenced by the fact that his hands were clasped behind his back. She watched as the two men disappeared from her view before the first grunt sounded against the backdrop of chirping crickets.
“I don’t think so…” she heard quite distinctly. The raspy voice was most definitely Eddie’s. A dull thud, another grunt, some sort of scuffle before the weirdest sound – something like a whoosh and a zing mixed together before something heavy fell back into the trunk and practically landed in her lap. Her eyes darted down and her breath hitched.
It was Eddie, face up, his eyes open and staring…a small hole in the middle of his forehead seeping something dark from one side...
“AGHHH!” Bile rose to her throat as she tried desperately to swallow it back.
Her gaze immediately shot to her captor as he rather calmly tucked something into his waistband before reaching down and grabbing the front of Eddie’s shirt. He pulled the heavy body up and out of the trunk, tossing it to the side before grabbing the top of the lid and focusing his attention on her.
“You OK back here?” his smooth voice asked as he casually leaned a forearm on the top of the trunk.
“Ugh?”
“Sorry about that. He was a piece of shit by the way. I can’t believe you helped him. That was really stupid, Jane.” He continued to stare down at her, seemingly unaffected by the situation that just occurred only seconds ago.
“Agh.”
“Apology accepted. Now you sit tight, no more stupid shit, OK?”
“Ooh Aaay,” she choked out.
“Good girl.” The trunk slammed and she was immersed in blackness once again.
“All right, Eddie. Oh, ugh…you fat fucker…” his muffled voice could be heard from inside the trunk. She immediately turned and felt for the object that had been pressing itself into her back for most of the ride. Her battered fingertips felt along the scratchy surface, finding and pulling the end of the tucked fabric back revealing the cold metal surface below. A bar. It was cold, it was metal. A crow bar? Her fingers felt up the length of the bar, revealing a hook at the end, the same hook that was undoubtedly piercing her back.
She grabbed it and rolled, immediately setting to work using the hook end and the sharp point to scrape at the twine. Her jerky motions kept causing it to slip in her haste. She jammed the other end between her feet and squeezed them together, using her legs to grip the bar, working it up and down methodically.
It was working! She could actually feel the twine wearing away. Calm…keep calm, slow and precise…scrape, scrape…
She listened intently as she concentrated her efforts. The muted chirping of crickets created a sort of symphony as her movements matched the sound. A piece of twine gave way as she immediately set to work on the one below it. Scrape, scrape, scrape…
The pound on the trunk caused her to jump out of her skin and momentarily lose her rhythm before the car door opened and slammed, rocking the vehicle. The engine roared to life once again and she rolled forward before righting herself once the vehicle began to move.
Her body jerked along with every dip in the road or whatever surface it was that they were driving over. The degree of difficulty in maintaining a good scraping process was increasing rapidly
before the surface smoothed out and the drone of tires on smooth asphalt sounded in her ears.
This was good. This was much more conducive to effective scraping…
Scrape, scrape…
More driving, more scraping, a couple of turns and back to bouncing up and down. Luckily she was near the end, she had to be on the last knot evidenced by the fact that she had slipped and scratched the delicate skin of her wrists more than a few times.
Keep scraping…
The car stopped abruptly just as the very last of the twine gave way and her hands were free.
Holding the bar to her chest, she quickly repositioned her hands. As soon as the trunk opened she would catch him off guard…
The trunk popped and her hands immediately stabbed the bar outward making contact before she pulled back and gave another jab. A loud grunt of pain sounded as her legs shot out and kicked at the body that was now doubled over, gasping then grunting again as it appeared she may have made contact with his head. Her feet swung over and one hand gripped the edge of the trunk to heft her body up and over the side. He was making a grab for her as she fell to her knees then quickly pushed up with one hand and brought the crow bar down with the other making contact with flesh.
“Aaagh Aaagh,” she commanded as she pushed off the ground and almost tumbled backwards due to her still-bound ankles. She watched as he straightened up slightly, using the trunk to help steady himself.
“Jane…” His voice was some kind of mix between admonishment, fury and amusement. It was the weirdest thing…
She immediately swatted at him with the heavy bar as he took a step forward and she took two hops back.
“Uh, uh…”
“Jane, I wouldn’t move if I were you…”
Two more hops back and a swat for good measure.
“Jane, I’m serious. You should stop.”
He took a step forward and she immediately hopped back twice before she realized the second hop didn’t include landing on solid ground. She was falling. Falling backwards, the air whooshing around her, her stomach lifting and drifting somewhere above her, the moonlit scenery in front of her distorting before her back slammed against something hard, knocking the wind out of her before water splashed over her body from all directions.
“Aaaghh!” Her hands immediately dropped the bar she was holding in a death grip to push up. Whatever she landed in was shallow, thankfully. Shallow, but cold…
“What did I tell you?”
She looked up through soggy lashes to find him standing above her, at least a four or five feet up. Cold water moved against her in a steady stream, splashing against one side.
“Aaaaagh,” she half grunted, half sobbed as the futility of the situation dawned on her.
He started down the bank, sidestepping carefully as he approached.
“That was pretty good, Jane. You surprised me. That hurt, by the way and I’m kinda pissed at you right now, so I would recommend that you cooperate. You think you can do that?” His voice was slightly patronizing.
“Uh huh.”
“Great. That’s good. Hand me my crowbar, please. Hand it to me. Don’t even try to hit me with it. I swear to god, Jane, if you take a swing at me? I’m gonna shove that crowbar up your ass. Could you imagine that? That would hurt like a bitch. Hand it over. No swatting.” He calmly reached out and flicked his wrists a couple of times to indicate his level of patience with her.
Her fingers grabbed the cold, wet metal, looking at it and back to his hand then back again to the bar.
“See? I know what you’re thinking. Go ahead and try it. I dare you.”
She handed it over without another thought.
She watched as he gripped it and easily flung it up and over the bank without so much as a grunt of effort.
“Come on.” He was reaching his hand toward her, careful not to step into the swirling water.
“Uh, uh.”
“No? Would you rather stay in the water?” He straightened to his full height and placed his hands on his hips, his head cocked to one side. “You’re just being difficult. Come on, I have stuff to do and you’re holding me up. Let’s go,” he chided as she watched him warily for a few moments.
“Jane, you stubborn shithead. Put your damn hand out right now or I will grab you by the neck and hold you underwater,” he stated with a level of frankness that spurred her into action.
She immediately reached her hand out. He gripped it and gave a tug that sent her flying up and into his hard body.
“See? Was that so difficult?” His face was only an inch or so from hers and his arm tightened around her body before she could fall backwards or push away from him.
“Uh, uh…”
“All righty. Come on, up you go…” Before she knew it, she was hefted up in the air, her torso flopping over his shoulder knocking the wind from her once again.
“One good thing about you Jane – you are one skinny chick. Don’t you eat? Damn…” he huffed as he picked his way up the bank, sliding once, but righting himself as her head flopped against his back. He was actually carrying on a one sided conversation as he continued to make his way up the bank. Was he nuts? Well, that was obvious…
“Here we go,” he stated as he began to walk on level ground. Her hands were touching the back pockets of his jeans. She kept a switchblade in her back pocket, what were the odds that he did the same?
“Jane, are you feeling me up? There’s nothing back there, except for my ass, which you are grabbing, by the way. That’s really weird. Stop touching my ass, Jane,” he commanded and her hands immediately ceased.
She watched the ground give way to wood steps as his feet began to climb up.
“Now listen. I’m going to put you down. I want you to stand right next to me, OK? I need to open this door and you need to behave. Here, put your hands against the wall, where I can see them. Don’t move.” He set her on her feet and positioned her where he apparently wanted her. Her hands felt a worn and somewhat splintered wood surface.
Metal scraped and she watched as his hands felt for and engaged the lock on a door. A quick look around didn’t net much, but it truly appeared as if they were standing in front of a cabin as evidenced by the extreme amount of crickets chirping and the sound of wood steps only seconds ago.
He pushed the door open and flipped a switch, bathing the room in a warm glow, illuminating his profile before he turned his attention to her once again.
“Put your arms around my neck – not your hands, Jane, just your arms. Don’t head butt me…” He grabbed around her waist and easily picked her up, smashing her body against his as he lifted her and walked them inside the door before shutting it with his free hand. Moving across the room she made out a living room, a bit rustic, but clean. A small kitchen was situated off to the side of the open floor space and a rather large stone fireplace took up most of the space along one wall.
“Here, sit on the rug, you’re soaked.” He dropped her feet to the ground below and pushed her away from him slightly before looking down at his thin coat. “Me too. Sit,” he commanded as his eyes lifted and bored into hers. The unspoken threat hung between them as she slowly lowered herself to a kneeling then seated position, her eyes never leaving his.
“Ugh,” she grunted then pointed at the gag.
“Yeah, hold that thought. I’m cold. You cold?” He must have thought that was humorous based on the crooked smile he flashed. This situation was so completely bizarre.
He backed away; his eyes still trained on her as he felt for and threw a few logs in the open mouth of the fireplace. His stare was completely unnerving and she found her eyes wandering from him to the rest of the room, looking for another exit. The cabin itself was about the size of a small bungalow except the second story was a loft. A thin set of steps jutted next to the kitchen and ascended to an open area above, guarded by a rough-hewn wood bannister. In all, it was a rather cozy place; masculine, exceptionally clean and well appointed. She pushed her hand
s to her sides as she lifted up and scooted her way back toward one of the couches. Her back was aching; it would be nice to rest against something.
“Where ya going, Jane?” Her eyes snapped back to his as he swiped a long match before it flared to life, the flame dancing in his dark eyes before he threw it into the fireplace and grabbed something out of his coat pocket.
“Stop.”
“Aghhh.” She continued to scoot.
He aimed the small handheld device at her.
“Here’s the deal, Jane. This is a taser. Stop moving or I will zap you. I’ve never zapped a wet person. I’m not quite sure what happens -”
“Agghh!” She grunted before indicating the couch with a few backward nods of her head.
“What?”
“Oooooh…agghh.” A few more head nods, one more scoot and her back was propped against one of the overstuffed couches.
“Owwww. Ugh” She sat straight up after touching the couch with her back. It was aching, probably battered from the night’s activities.
“That’s your own fault. I tried to warn you…” The crooked smile returned once again but it wasn’t congenial. In fact, it truly appeared as if her were looking through her.
He placed the taser back in his pocket and lit another match, this time, carefully holding it to one of the bottom logs. It caught and the dry wood ignited rapidly.
She watched his profile brighten from the radiance of the flames before his eyes shifted and focused on her without turning his head. In any other situation she would have noticed him in a crowd. He was actually a rather nice looking guy. His features were by no means perfect and yet everything seemed to work together. He wasn’t the biggest guy, either, but he exuded an air of confidence that some women might find sexy. Of course, there was nothing sexy about the circumstances of their acquaintance…and he might be hot, but he was still a psycho…
“All right, Jane. Don’t make me regret this,” he stated as he pushed himself up and wandered over to her. She involuntarily shrank back and her hands immediately rose to her chest in a defensive position at his approach.
“Relax, I’m just taking the gag off, geez,” he grumbled. She immediately dropped her hands and waited.
This Guy Kills Me Page 3
