by Christa Lynn
Once I have left the suite, I make my way to the elevator and then to the concierge desk. “May I help you?” The young pretty girl behind the counter asks me. I think to myself, what a shitty job to have, sitting behind a podium at all hours of the night. They’d have to pay me a ton of money to do that.
“Yes, I need a cab please.” I tell her.
“Of course ma’am. Where is it you will be going at this late hour?” She asks as she picks up the phone to call a taxi service. “LaGuardia. And I need the car as soon as possible.”
And like a miracle, a yellow four door Ford pulls up to the curb. “Thank you!” I holler back as I exit the doors from the hotel on to the dark street. Well, it’s New York, the city that never sleeps, so it’s not really dark, but it is darker than I prefer. I climb in the back and instruct the driver to take me to the airport.
Thankfully we are there within about twenty minutes, traffic was fairly light for this time of night. I hand him my card and he runs it, handing me the slip to sign and add a tip. How much am I supposed to tip? I stare at the slip and decide on ten dollars. If it’s not enough, well too bad.
I print my boarding pass and make my way to the gate, where it hasn’t started boarding yet. I check my phone and I have confirmation from Heather that she will be at the airport at four thirty to pick me up, and to text her when I’m almost to the exit doors. I also see six text messages and two voice mails from Jackson. I delete the texts without looking at them and ignore the voice mails.
Finally, they announce boarding and I make my way to row 25, seat C. Way in the freaking back. I don’t care though, it’s a seat and no one is sitting next to me. I pray the doors close before Jackson realizes I’m gone, because he would totally show up and flop his dumb ass in the seat next to me, cursing and telling me what a bad girl I am.
I release a big sigh of relief when the plane taxis down the runway and takes off. I’m so pissed that I don’t even get nervous during takeoff. The few times I have flown, I’ve had someone next to me to keep me calm, but my anger allowed me not to dwell on it this time. I lean my head back and close my eyes. By the time I get home I will have been awake for twenty four hours. This is not acceptable.
Chapter 20
I am awoken by the pilot announcing our decent into Atlanta. I stretch my neck, which is stiff because I fell asleep with my head crooked to the side. Nice.
Once we are allowed to use our cell phones, I power it up and check my messages. Nothing new. So I text Heather letting her know the plane has landed and that I’ll check in once I step on that gigantic escalator that leads me to freedom. As I wait for the moving staircase to dump me at the top, I mentally smack myself for being so naive. How could I let myself fall for him? He was so different on this trip, tender and loving. Whoa, loving? Do loving men have you followed? I shake my head in denial, no fucking way. But I can’t get him out of my mind.
What’s wrong with being a little possessive? Is it really that bad of a trait to have? “No, Ally. Quit arguing with yourself.” I say out loud to myself and then look around to make sure no one has heard me talking to myself. There are enough psycho people in here that I don’t need to add to the chaos.
I make my way past baggage claim and out the doors. The damp, muggy heat smacks me in the face and I immediately start sweating. I now feel sticky and nasty and my thoughts go straight to my shower. I see Heather’s Prius coming down the pickup lane and I flag her down. She stops and I climb in the car. “Drive.” I tell her, like I’m in a movie or something.
I don’t look at her right away, because I don’t want her seeing that I am truly upset. I stare straight out the side window and watch as we zoom out of the airport parking lot on to the highway.
After a few minutes, I finally look over to Heather. I realized she hasn’t spoken to me since I got in the car. I notice her eyes are red and she looks like she’s been crying. “Heather, what’s wrong?” I ask.
Before she gets to answer, I hear a clicking sound from the back seat and turn to see what it is and find myself looking down the barrel of a gun. “Turn around, Alexandra.” The man in the back tells me as he presses the gun to my head. Shit. My heart speeds up and the sweat that was drying up is back in full force, dripping down between my breasts and the back of my neck.
“Where’s your boyfriend, Alexandra? He’s who I really want, but you and your little friend will do for the time being. In fact, this might be fun.” He growls as he pushes the gun harder against my head.
“Please don’t hurt us.” I whimper as I try not to cry. Now I know why Heather’s eyes are red, and is that a bruise under her eye? “Did he hurt you, Heather?” She shakes her head, but I can see the black and purple discoloration under her right eye. She has yet to speak.
We hit the highway exceeding the speed limit and I hope that a cop pulls us over, because I know Heather won’t try to run from them. But naturally, there isn’t a police officer around when you need one. “Exit here, bitch. At the top of the ramp, turn right.” I look at the sign, Langford Parkway. I look behind me again and he is looking out the back window, then back forward. “Turn around, bitch! Don’t fuck with me or I’ll blow your fucking head off!” He screams at me and I face forward again, glancing at Heather who is shaking, her knuckles turning white. I can tell she’s scared, and I am too, but I try to remain calm. One of us needs to be thinking of a way to get out of this. I know that I usually tend to panic, but I’m so damn tired that I can’t.
The Mean Man in the back seat points the gun at Heather and directs her where to go. After many left turns, right turns and dark curvy roads we arrive at a small warehouse looking building. It’s made of steel with a rusted metal roof and a thick wooden door that has holes in it, are those bullet holes? As we pull up, three other men pile out of the building and surround the car, guns pulled. “Get out of the car and don’t even think about running. We won’t hesitate to shoot you.” He says as he opens the back door and gets out, his gun never pointing away from us. I grab my bag and slide out of the car. “Leave your bag, but bring your phone. You have a call to make.”
I reach in and grab my phone, wishing I had a weapon in there but having just gotten off of a plane, I have nothing. Not even my pepper spray. “Give it to me.” He says and I hand him my phone. I am now kicking myself that I didn’t try to dial 911 as we drove, but fear and anxiety got in my way and I didn’t even think about it. Maybe someone will track my phone when they realize I’m missing, but then I realize the only person that knows I’m missing is Heather. I never responded to Jackson’s text messages or voice mails and now I regret it. If I’d just stayed in New York and listened to him instead of stomping off like a spoiled brat, we wouldn’t be in this mess.
As I exit the car, Mean Man #1 grabs me by my hair and pulls me around so he is behind me, gun pointed at my lower back. I feel my heart rate increase and I start to hyperventilate, but his strong tug at my hair stops the shakes. “Chill out bitch. We get what we want, we won’t hurt you. NOW MOVE!” He yells in my ear as he pushes me toward the door of the warehouse. I stumble from the force and fall onto my hands and knees, the gravel on the ground digging into my skin and ripping the thin material of the dress I am wearing. The pain stings, but I shake it off and say a silent prayer that skinned knees will be the worst of my injuries when this is over.
Crazy ass from the back seat is pushing Heather in the same direction with the other two large men standing guard at the door, guns to their sides, and fingers on the triggers. I know in my head if we go inside, we may never come out. But Mean Man #1 yanks me up from the ground by my hair, holding it so tight I can’t look around to get a bearing on my surroundings. Mean Man # 3 kicks the door open and backs into the space behind him, not taking his eyes off of us. As we reach the threshold, we are pushed inside and released, but only long enough to catch one breathe.
We are led to two metal chairs up against the wall, side by side. Good, Heather and I can communicate by eye contact,
which we’ve been known to be good at. Just a look at her and she will know what I am trying to say without me opening my mouth. Maybe these guys aren’t as smart as they think they are, because they sure don’t look smart, they look like goons. I can only think that this has something to do with Jackson, since he said he was after my boyfriend in the car, and he wants me to make a call. I only know so many people, and none of the people on my contact list would be involved in something like this.
The skinniest of the three men ties my hands behind my back and secures duct tape to my mouth, Crazy ass from the back seat is tying Heather up and they leave our feet free. Not sure why, but I sure as hell ain’t gonna say anything. Once we are tied up, the Mean Men move over to a darkened corner, the only light coming from my cell phone as they scroll through my contacts.
Mean Man # 3 slams my phone down on the desk that sits there, angry. Maybe the person they wanted didn’t answer the phone. But alas, the phone rings and lights up just a few seconds later. Mean Man # 3 stalks toward me with the phone to his greasy ear, mumbling something in a deep voice. Shit, he even sounds scary. He puts the phone to my ear and rips the tape partially off of my mouth so I can talk. “H-h-h hello?” I whisper in the phone.
“Ally? Oh my God, are you okay?” The male voice says.
“Ch…Chase?” I say, completely surprised. I was sure it would have been Jackson. “I’m fine, just scared and.......” Mean Man pulls the phone from my ear.
“Yeah, you heard her. She’s unharmed for now. If we don’t get what we want within the hour, your girl and her pretty little friend are dead, but only after we have a little fun with them.” He says into the phone as he eyes me and Heather up and down. I squirm in my seat with discomfort, knowing exactly what he means.
The men walk back over to the corner and Mean Man # 2 replaces the tape on my mouth not realizing that some of the sticky has worn off so I can actually move my lips a little. I hide this fact. Hey, I might be scared out of my mind but I’m not stupid. Well, I do have my moments, but now is not the time to have one, I need to focus and try to figure out a way out of here without getting hurt or worse, dead.
The Mean Guys are standing in the dark corner huddled together talking while Mean Man # 3 is still talking on my phone, the conversation heated. I can’t hear what they are saying, but I can tell the bastard on the phone is not happy. Heather and I are just sitting still watching and waiting for the other shoe to fall. Crazy ass from the back seat keeps looking over at us making sure we aren’t going anywhere and as I wriggle my fingers behind me, I am able to loosen the ropes enough that the blood starts flowing through my hands again. I study each man and take in their features.
They are all over six feet tall, with two of them looking like they could be brothers. Crazy ass from the back seat has dark blonde hair cut in a buzz, and lips curled in a snarl with a tattoo of some sort snaking up his neck. Mean Men 2 and 3 have dark mocha skin and wide brown eyes, one with a piercing in his eyebrow, and I am almost positive they are related somehow, maybe even twins. Mean Man 4 is a tall, lanky man with long black hair that hasn’t been washed in days, pulled into a ponytail. I haven’t seen his eyes because he’s not looked directly at me. He appears nervous like he really doesn’t want to be involved in whatever it is that these creeps have planned.
Mean Man #3 with the eyebrow piercing lays down my phone and stalks toward us, with the other three falling in behind him. They are a force to be reckoned with and my knees start shaking again as they get closer. “Well, now. Aren’t you a pretty little thing?” He says as he brushes his dirty fingers up against my cheek, a shiny knife held in his other hand. I turn my face away from him and he chuckles.
“Yeah, pretty thing. Wanna have a little fun?” He continues as his free hand lowers to my breast, squeezing so hard it hurts. “You’d better hope your boyfriend comes through for us or I’m gonna do more than just squeeze.” He says as he takes the knife and slices through the bodice of my dress, the cold sharp tip scraping down my chest and between my breasts, exposing my flesh to his grimy eyes. A sharp pain jolts through me, but I don’t feel any blood. Then again, my body is numb at the moment, so he could have just gutted me and I wouldn’t feel it.
I shake my head and whimper a cry, silently begging him to not hurt me. Tears fill the corners of my eyes and I close them tight, trying to blink them back but I’m unsuccessful. The tear slides down my face and lands on his hand which is still centered on my chest. He looks back up at me and I swear I see a flash of sympathy, but it’s quickly gone. He finally moves away from me as my cell phone rings again, Mean Man # 3 jogs over to the table where he laid the phone down. “Talk to me.”
I can hear his voice better this time, but I can’t make out much. I am trying to soak all of this in so that these assholes don’t get away. Hopefully Chase is doing whatever he can to fix this, though I still can’t figure out why he would even be involved. I hardly know him and I am not his girlfriend, but these goons seem to think otherwise.
“Make it happen. You have one hour.” I hear him say into the phone as he sets it back down, his eyes staring at the phone for a few seconds afterward as if he thinks it will get up and walk away. The other Mean Men gather around him as he tells them whatever it was that was discussed on the phone. The Mean Twins head outside and I exhale the breath I had no idea I was holding, leaving us with Crazy ass from the back seat and Lanky dude. I throw a look at Heather and motion for her to look behind my back where I have slowly worked the rope so loose that I could get free. It is obvious to me that lanky dude was never a boy scout, cause he damn sure can’t tie a sturdy knot.
I get my fingers free, but I keep the rope around them and my hands behind my back. I know I am not strong enough to fight any of these men, but I want to have my hands free so I can help Heather when all hell breaks loose, and based on the conversation earlier, that will happen within the hour.
Lanky dude and Crazy ass from the back seat are sitting in the corner watching us, but not saying anything and the Mean Twins are still outside and all is quiet. Heather and I keep eying each other, neither of us can speak due to the tape on our mouths but the looks we give each other are full of fear and despair. We both stay stock still for fear of drawing attention to ourselves.
After what seems like days, I hear a car sound outside, it’s tires popping on the gravel that covers the parking area around the warehouse.Heather and I look at each other with a knowing look thatIt’s Now or Never,but I don’t move yet. If I am going to make a move, I have to do it at the right time and not risk them realizing my hands are free before I am ready for them to know. Crazy ass and Lanky Dude get up and walk toward the door, pulling their guns from their holsters around their waists, releasing the safeties.
I can hear muffled voices from outside, and they sound angry but I cannot make out what they are saying. Within seconds the sound of gunfire and yelling fill the air, Crazy Ass and Lanky Dude rip the door open and draw their guns. Crazy Ass fires first as Lanky Dude stands behind the door, taking cover and scoping out the scene before him. After Crazy Ass fires his gun a couple of times, Lanky dude pulls his up and puts a bullet in Crazy Ass’ head, his body dropping in a slump on the floor.
Lanky dude closes the door and runs to us, and I prepare to make my move. I drop the rope and as he get close to me, I kick my foot out effectively tripping him and I stand up and kick his gun out of his hand and plant my heal on his lower back, then rip the tape off my face. “Ally, let me up. I’m a cop!” Lanky dude says. “Wh…What? I don’t believe you.” I say back to him in a shaky voice. “In my back pocket is my badge and this gun you just kicked away is police issued. Please trust me.” He says as I look to Heather, unsure whether to believe him or not. I flash back to when I first saw him and noticed something different about him, and then Heather nods her head. I lift my foot and he springs to his feet, grabbing me and turning me the other way. “Go! There is a back door to your right, my men will be there waiting for you. Go
! While I get Heather free.” He pushes me toward the back corner.
“No, I won’t leave her. We go together.” I say as he tears the tape off of her mouth.
“Silly girl.” Is all I hear him say as he quickly unties the knots on Heathers hands? When she is finally free, she stands up and we start to head toward the back of the room to exit, Heather falling slightly behind me. As we round the corner, I hear two gun shots and a female scream. I turn around and Heather is on the floor, bleeding. “Go Ally! Now! I’ll get her, just go!” Lanky Dude screams at me, and I flee as fast as my fat ass will go in heels, which isn’t very fast.
I get to the back door and slowly open it. “Atlanta PD, get your hands up!” A male voice yells from outside the door. I raise my hands up over my head and kick the door open with my foot.
“Don’t shoot, please!” I cry out toward nothing. I don’t see anyone, but I can feel their presence. Suddenly, I am grabbed from behind and I am running like a bat out of hell.
“Wait, Heather! She’s still in there, I scream as I start to fight against the cop escorting me out of this hell hole.”
“We have it under control, Ms. Sanders. Officer McKinney has her under protection and EMS is on the way.” He tells me as we keep running, my fighting tactics suck because he managed to keep me headed in the same direction. “Murphy, I have one girl with me. The other is still inside. Get in there and help McKinney.” He announces through the radio clipped to his shirt.
I hear more gunfire and then silence, which quickly turns into sirens. I’m now in a wooded area, behind some trees and there are several other officers there, along with the K9 unit, the dogs on their leashes barking and begging to make a run toward the building we just ran from. I am surrounded by cops and I feel safe for the first time since Heather picked me up at the airport, so I sit down on the hard ground and the sobs overtake me.
