Just a Little Junk

by Stylo Fantome

  “My answer would be no, just to warn you.”

  “Aw, c’mon, Jojo, you love me.”

  That hit too close to him. She clenched her teeth together

  “Just shut up! Shut the fuck up. I’m going to call the police, and then you can be a smart ass with them. See how well they like it,” she threatened, knee walking closer to the edge of the desk, ready to jump down and run past him.

  “Fine. Go call the cops, because frankly, you’re starting to scare me,” he told her.

  “Good!” she shouted, jerking the gun at him, trying to get him to move. “You should be scared!”

  “I’m scared you’ll hurt yourself,” he clarified.

  “Oh, fuck you, Archer. Fuck you and your stupid smiles and your big lies and every single moment we ever spent together. I hope you -”

  Her tirade was cut off as she let out a shout. Faster than her eyes could follow, he lunged forward and grabbed her behind her knees. Next thing she knew, her legs were yanked out from under her and she was falling backwards off the desk. The gun went flying out of her hand, hitting the floor with a thunk.

  Jo didn’t lose a beat. She scrambled around, digging her elbows into the rug as she moved. Archer was already on top of the desk, leaping towards her. She screamed, rolled onto her front, then jumped to her feet.

  Gun. Get the gun. You don’t want to end up in a trunk, Jojo!

  “STOP!”

  He roared so loud, so close behind her, it actually worked. Jo shrieked and came to a stop, wrapping her arms around her head and ducking down. She wasn’t even sure what she was doing, she just knew she was terrified and didn’t want to get hurt. She held still as he grabbed her arm and yanked her around so she was facing him.

  “Please,” she whimpered, and she realized she’d started crying. “Please, I won’t tell the police. I won’t say anything.”

  “Jo,” he groaned, pulling her out of her crouch and wrapping his arms around her. “I’m not going to hurt you. I could never hurt you. I lied to you so you wouldn’t get hurt.”

  “Too late,” she whispered, her face pressed against his chest.

  “This is killing me,” he whispered back.

  Bad choice of words.

  “Then let me go,” she urged. “You have my car, you have the body. You know who your double cross is. I’m in more danger here than I ever was at home. Than I ever was before you moved down the hall.”

  “Don’t say that,” he groaned.

  There was a long silence. Jo wasn’t sure what to do – she was in some drug lord’s mansion in Malibu, and apparently her best friend-slash-the guy she was probably in love with was also a drug dealer. Oh, and he’d also murdered someone and put the body in her trunk. No big deal.

  She let out a growl and rammed her knee into his crotch, as hard as she could. He let go of her and made a choking noise as he dropped to the ground.

  Jo didn’t waste a second. She turned and bolted from the room. It was too much, how was she supposed to deal with all this? She just needed a moment. She’d spent all weekend with Archer, thinking all the wrong thoughts, believing all the wrong truths. She just needed a goddamn moment to herself.

  The house was absolutely huge. She couldn’t remember how they’d gotten to Santana’s office, but she knew she didn’t have time to stop and think about it. She spent half a second looking around, then she ran down the hall. Went down the first set of stairs she came across, kept going for about three flights, then came out in a huge kitchen. She immediately ran towards a set out of glass doors and found herself outside, right at the edge of a large pool.

  Figuring that running would only draw more attention, Jo managed to slow it down to a fast walk as she hurried across a cement deck. Once she got around the corner of the house, she went back to running, streaking along the side of the house and heading for the front.

  She was on the lawn and almost halfway to the gate when her cellphone went off. She let out a yelp, startled as it vibrated, then she pulled it out of her back pocket and looked at the screen. Archer. She ended the call, then frowned as she looked at her screen. A lot of missed calls from both her parents, her roommate, a couple from her brother, and even one from Archer’s mother. There were also several unknown numbers that she had to assume were from her building’s management, the police, and possibly the FBI at this point. Her frown turned into a glare and when Archer called her again, she answered.

  “Just leave me alone, okay? I just need to be alone for a minute,” she snapped, stomping across the grass towards a guard station.

  “Where are you?” he demanded. She rolled her eyes.

  “I’m still in your drug compound, don’t worry.”

  “It’s not a drug … Jo, please. If you want to hate me, fine, we can work on that later. But for now, we need to stick together, okay?”

  “Not okay! I wouldn’t be in this situation if it wasn’t for you! Sticking with you has done nothing but ruin my entire fucking life!” she hissed, skirting around some huge potted plants that towered over her.

  “Don’t say that, Jojo. You’re mad right now, but you know you love me.”

  Not the words she wanted to here right then.

  “Get fucked, Archie.”

  “Don’t ever call me that. Look, I’ll leave you alone, I promise. Just come back to the house. We don’t have to be together, but I just have to know where you are. I have to know you’re okay,” he stressed. She grumbled and walked around the small building. It was stationed maybe fifty feet from main gate, and she figured someone could get said gate open for her.

  “Well, I’m okay, and I’m at the front of the driveway,” she sighed, peeking through the windows. She frowned when she saw the station was empty. What was the point of a guard station if there weren’t any guards? Maybe they only worked at night. But how was she supposed to get the gate open?

  “Don’t leave!” Archer practically yelled. “Krakow’s dead, but if Malcolm is really in on this, we’re both still in trouble. It’s safest inside the house.”

  Fear trickled down Jo’s spine as she slowly moved through the open doorway. She swallowed thickly as she looked around. There were several monitors, all displaying the footage from multiple cameras around the property. Except for one – its screen was just full of static and snow. Everything looked fairly normal, she supposed, except for an over turned chair, a broken window on the far side of the small room, and a liquid that had been splashed across the monitors.

  “Archer,” she breathed, taking a couple steps forward.

  “What?”

  “I think you were right,” she whispered, leaning down close to the screens. It had looked brown from the doorway, but upon closer inspection, the liquid was definitely red. Blood red.

  “Right? What’s happening? Why are you whispering?”

  Jo dropped into a crouch, ducking beneath the windows. She inched back towards the door and pressed herself up against the wall next to it. She glanced outside, not even sure what she was looking for – maybe a windowless van? Gun men in fancy suits?

  You’ve seen too many movies.

  “Something’s happened,” she said, gripping the door frame as she looked around it. She didn’t want someone to sneak into the room behind her and catch her unaware.

  “I’m coming,” Archer’s voice sounded slightly breathless, and even through the phone she could hear the sound of his feet pounding down a set of stairs. “What happened?”

  “I came to the guard station,” she kept whispering, her eyes never leaving the driveway. “I thought they could open the gate for me, but no one is here. One of the cameras isn’t working, and there’s blood in here.”

  “Goddammit, Jo, this is why we should’ve stuck together!”

  “I’m sorry I got scared of being in a room with a murderer!” she hissed through clenched teeth.

  “I’m not a murderer!”

  “Oh, well then, what do you call a person who’s killed another person?”

>   “Shut up. Are you hiding?”

  “I’m in the station,” she breathed, daring to lean out the door a little to look the other way down the drive. “I’m hiding under the windows, looking out the door.”

  “Okay, just stay there. I’m coming to get you.”

  “Fuck,” she groaned. “Now I’m stuck here. I’ve gone from my shitty apartment, to a drug dealer’s penthouse, to a drug lord’s mansion, and I’m probably gonna fucking die here.”

  “Stop being dramatic. And this time, when I save you, don’t kick me.”

  “I make no promises. Hurry up.”

  “Can you see any one?”

  “No, no one. It’s totally -”

  Jo screamed as her head was yanked back. Her hair was still up in its bun and someone had their hand wrapped around it, using it as a knob to control her head. She was dragged away from the open doorway, then jerked up into a standing position. She gripped her phone in one hand and swung her other arm wildly, hoping to hit her assailant. She was twisted around and she saw that behind her had been another door, partially hidden behind a file cabinet.

  “What’s happening!? Jo, talk to me! What’s going on!?”

  Archer’s voice was tinny and far away as he shouted through the phone line. She screamed again as she was pulled towards the secret door, and at first all she could think was that she was dead. That she was being dragged away to her death. Then Archer’s voice got louder over the phone and a memory flashed through her mind. One of her favorite movies, some ridiculous, over the top, incredibly violent film that featured Liam Neeson kicking ass all over Paris.

  Do something. If you’re being taken, then make sure Archer can find you!

  “He’s got me! Someone’s got me!” she yelled, hooking her leg inside the door frame before she could be pulled clear of it. With her free hand, she reached back and started clawing at the fingers in her hair. She twisted around and though it meant she lost her hold on the doorway, it also meant she was able to see who was grabbing her.

  “Who!? Hold on!” Archer shouted over the phone, and she thought maybe she could also hear him in the distance.

  Put up a fight. Hold out. Just long enough for Archer to get here and turn this asshole inside out.

  “It’s Mal!” she shouted, then she screamed as Malcolm Rodriguez backhanded her. She fell to the side, ramming into the side of the guard station and dropping her phone. Mal grabbed her by the hair again and she started yelling. “It’s Malcolm! He killed the guards! He’s trying to take me!”

  “MALCOLM!”

  Archer was definitely outside, and as Mal’s arm wrapped around Jo’s neck, he turned just in time for her to see Archer running around the side of the main house.

  “You know,” Mal sounded out of breath. Jo struggled at first to get free, and then in panic as he cut off her air supply. “I really didn’t think I would enjoy kidnapping a defenseless girl. But seeing the look on Archer’s face, it’s actually totally worth it.”

  Her vision was going black around the edges. She was pulling at his wrists with one hand, and with her other arm, she was reaching out. As if she could grab hold of Archer while he was still a couple hundred feet away. She kept telling herself it would only take a minute for him to reach her. Just a minute, and he would save the day. Sixty seconds, and he would make up for all the other bad shit he’d done.

  But it turned out she didn’t have sixty seconds. She barely had ten seconds before everything went completely black and she fell unconscious.

  12:51 p.m.

  Day Two

  “Just a minute. Hang on, Jojo! Just one more minute!” Archer was practically screaming as he ran.

  That’s the thing with minutes, though. They’re always longer than you think. Shorter than you realize.

  He watched as Malcolm dragged Jo’s limp body into a car. Shouted as Mal got behind the wheel. Archer was able to grab onto the spoiler of the car when the tires started squealing. He tried to hang on, but the vehicle whipped in a tight circle, throwing him onto the lawn. Then rocks and dirt were spit into his face as the car raced out of the driveway.

  “FUCK!” he yelled, pounding his fist into the grass. “No! No, no, no, no!”

  “What happened!?”

  He looked up to see his father jogging across the lawn. Several men trailed behind him, all carrying semi-automatic weapons.

  How is this my life? What the fuck am I doing here? What the fuck have I done?

  “Mal took her,” Archer panted as he climbed to his feet. “He killed the guard on duty, he choked her out, and he fucking took her.”

  “I knew I should’ve kept that boy in counseling,” his dad sighed.

  Archer glared and suddenly had an acute idea of how Jo must have felt a lot of the time. One liners and constant quips were only funny when he was doing them at someone else’s expense. It wasn’t so much fun when it was at his expense.

  “Should’ve drowned him at birth,” Archer growled.

  “Calm down,” his father urged. “We’ll get her back. He must have some kind of plan, or he just would’ve killed her out here. We need to think right now – it’s the best thing we can do for her. I’m gonna make some calls.”

  While Santana did that, Archer walked over and picked Jo’s cell phone up off the ground. The wallpaper was a picture from a party, just a couple weeks ago. A group selfie. Archer and Jo were nestled in the middle of the group, him with his arm around her, holding her close. He smiled as he remembered the moment – he’d grabbed her butt, which accounted for the surprised, open-mouthed look on her face.

  Then he frowned. That was the same night he’d hidden the coke in her toilet tank. A deal earlier in the night had gone bad and he’d gone straight to her party afterwards, intending to take the coke back to his father in the morning. But then some chick had spilled red wine all over his pants and Jo had offered to wash them in her sink, before the stain could set. She’d been very insistent and he hadn’t wanted her to find the drugs. So he’d taken off the pants in her bathroom, hid the coke in her toilet, then walked around the party with a towel wrapped around his waist.

  I am the worst fucking person on the planet, and now she’s going to die because of me. I never even got to say -

  “I have our friends at the precinct looking for his license plates,” his father’s voice interrupted his thoughts. “He’s disabled the GPS in the car so we can’t track him that way, and his phone is off, so that won’t work, either. Does Jodi have her -”

  Archer waved her phone, cutting off the question before it could be asked.

  “No. Fuck. Fuck. Where would Mal go? Does he have an apartment in the city?” he asked, running his hand through his hair.

  “Not that I know of, but it seems like he’s full of surprises. He’d go somewhere private. Somewhere no one else would be – he can’t exactly haul an unconscious girl all around Los Angeles without someone noticing.”

  “Krakow’s apartment,” Archer whispered.

  “What?”

  “The dead guy in the trunk,” Archer snapped, glancing down the driveway and seeing Jo’s car parked outside the open gates. “His apartment – Malcolm knew him, knows where it is, knows it’s empty.”

  “You can’t be sure – what are you doing!?” his dad demanded as Archer started running down the drive.

  “Going there!”

  “You don’t even know if that’s where he is! Just wait, he’ll call at some point. Be rational!”

  “I’m leaving. Krakow’s apartment is on Ventura, I’ll message you address,” Archer said.

  “This is stupid!” his father yelled.

  “Probably! But I can’t just sit here. When I send that address, you better send every gun you have after me!” Archer yelled back before sliding behind the steering wheel.

  “Please! Just wait a couple minutes, so we can ready a car and we can all go -”

  The growl of an engine cut him off and Archer peeled out of the spot. He raced down the wi
nding road, pushing the vehicle to its max speed.

  Jo’s car was old. A real piece of shit, with two-tone doors and an engine that was barely clinging to life. He was always joking with her that he was going to buy her a car someday, though secretly he’d been serious. Someday, he was gonna buy her the car of her dreams. A vintage Chevelle SS.

  Someday, Jo. Someday, I’ll buy you the frickin’ moon – just hold on. I’m coming for you. Hold on.

  2:15 p.m.

  Day Two

  Jo came to with a snort, her head jerking upright so fast she rammed it into something behind her. She groaned and tried to lift her hand to rub at the spot, but found she couldn’t move. She blinked her eyes open and looked around.

  She was in a large open space. Industrial, with metal walls and concrete floors. She lifted her head to take in high ceilings and patches of rust. A warehouse, if she had to guess. An unused warehouse.

  Next she looked down at herself. She had ropes wrapped around her chest, hips, and ankles, tying her to some sort of metal support beam. They were tight enough that she couldn’t free herself right that moment, but there seemed to be some wiggle room. She was pretty sure if she moved around enough, she could get an arm loose.

  “She awakes!”

  A voice boomed and echoed across the large space, startling her at first. She craned her neck around to see Malcolm Rodriguez walking towards her. He took off his suit jacket as he moved and dropped it on an empty chair. She could see he was wearing a gun harness, the kind that strapped across his shoulders and back, the guns resting just under his arms. Pearl handles winked and gleamed in the sunlight streaming through a hole in the roof.

  I have to admit, he looks pretty bad ass.

  “Where are we?” she asked, her voice a little slurry. It felt like her tongue was numb.

  Somewhere safe,” he assured her, unbuttoning his cuffs as he talked. “Sorry about being so rough earlier.”

  “Um … that’s okay,” she spoke slowly. He was talking to her like they were having brunch somewhere and he was giving her a weather report. Very calm and natural.

  “I don’t have anything against you, personally, I want you to know.”