by Zoey Parker
The slap across the face was almost welcome. I still cried out. It hurt more than the previous slaps. Ryan was escalating.
“There’s more where that came from if you can’t fucking be respectful,” Ryan snarled out. He leaned closer. Instinctively, I flinched and tried to flatten my body against the wall of the back of the van.
“Okay,” I said quietly. “What are we going to do, Ryan?”
Ryan perked up at the way I’d said his name.
“No, that’s not quite right,” he said. He frowned. “You’re not going to call me Ryan. Try Mr. Winter.”
I shook my head. Just as I was about to protest, I felt a hot shock of pain surging through my body. Crying out, I glanced down and realized that Ryan was pressing something small and hard and made of plastic against my thigh. The pain was still vibrating in my limbs, and I felt dizzy. My mouth tasted like burnt metal.
“You know what this is?” Ryan asked. He held up the plastic device. I whimpered when I saw the two tiny metal prongs sticking out of the plastic box.
I shook my head. My body was still buzzing from the last shock, and I didn’t want him to hurt me again. I shuddered at the thought that he had even worse things up his sleeve.
“Well, that’s fine for now,” Ryan said. He smirked at me. “You don’t have to know a lot of things to be a beauty queen, do you?”
I slumped down against the metal wall and pulled my knees close. Resting my chin on them, I tried to pretend that I was just in a very uncomfortable waiting room. I’ve not been kidnapped, I thought as a tear leaked down my cheek. I’m just waiting for my doctor.
“Tell me, Katia, what’s the most important part of being a beauty queen?” Ryan raised his eyebrows. “I wanna know.”
“Why are you asking me this?” I stared at him. “Can’t you just do whatever you want with me and let me go again?” As soon as the words were out of my mouth, I regretted them.
Ryan’s stare turned murderous. “If you’re not going to play my little game, I’ll just have to make you realize that’s your best chance,” Ryan said. He reached out and grabbed me, pulling me close to him.
I struggled and fought, but when Ryan held up the small plastic Taser again, I went limp.
He grinned. “Good girl,” Ryan said softly. He pressed his lips to mine and pressed down. I screamed and shrieked, pulling away from him. The shocking pain that blasted through my body seconds before was horrifying, but not as horrifying as being forced to kiss Ryan had been.
“Leave me alone!” I shrieked. I began kicking and thrashing, trying to hit him with the balls of my feet. Somehow, Ryan managed to evade every kick.
Ryan grinned. “Okay, Katia. If that’s what you want.” He grinned again, and I felt my stomach sinking. “Trust me,” he added. “You’ll be begging me to pay attention to you again by the time this is all over.”
I blinked. I wanted to ask him what he meant, but I was sick of talking to him. As Ryan pushed me further into the back of the van, he wiped his hands on his jeans and began crawling towards the front. I watched breathlessly as he climbed into the driver’s seat and shifted the van into gear. We sped out of the motel parking lot with alarming speed, and I cried out in pain as my body slammed against the wall of the van.
“Yeah, that’s right,” Ryan called from the driver’s seat. “Go ahead and scream, baby. No one’s listening to you!”
My head was thumping in agony, and I had a sharp pain in my ribs that hurt whenever I breathed. Curling up in a ball, I rested my head on my arms. Ryan turned on the radio and soon the van was filled with the cheery, chirpy sounds of pop music.
“I hope this music is okay!” Ryan called loudly. “You’re gonna be hearing it for quite some time!”
The adrenaline rush that had started back in the motel parking lot was beginning to ebb but hearing the pop music made me feel panicked once more. The volume was so loud that it was hurting my head, and every time Ryan turned the van around a curve, I thought I was going to be sick.
I closed my eyes and began to pray.
Dear God,
Please let Dante save me. Please let him be okay. I know I haven’t always been very nice to him… or to anyone else. But I really love him. I swear, I wasn’t thinking about hooking up with another guy just to make him jealous!
Well, okay, maybe I was.
But I didn’t mean it! You know that! You know me. God, please, I’m so scared. I promise if you get me out of this or help Dante get me out of this, I’ll never be a bad Christian again. I’ll even start going to church again.
The van lurched to the side, and I slid across the metal floor, slamming my head against the opposite wall. I saw stars fluttering around me and moaned softly, burying my face in my hands. The cut on my temple had scabbed over, but I could feel that I had a huge, egg-sized knot on the side of my head. It ached with every heartbeat, and my eyes filled with tears even though I knew crying would just wind up hurting me more.
“You’re awful quiet back there!” Ryan yelled. He slowed the van down and pulled off on the side of the road.
I gasped. I didn’t know why we were stopping, but I didn’t like it.
Ryan turned the ignition off and climbed into the back of the van. He was carrying something in his hand. It was a pink case with a white zipper.
“You recognize this?”
I shook my head. My heart was in my throat because I just knew it was going to be some kind of awful torture device like the Taser.
“No,” I said softly.
“By the way.” His voice had gone back to sounding kind and warm. “I think I do want you calling me Mr. Winter. Let’s try it out, shall we?”
I licked my lips. My mouth was dry, and my lips were so chapped that the skin was flaking off. It ached, and suddenly I wished that I had lip balm in my pocket.
“Mr. Winter,” I said shakily. “What’s inside the case?”
Ryan grinned. He seemed pleased. I shrank back and leaned against the metal wall. My back was aching, and my ass ached from the lack of padding on the floor, but at least it was better when the van wasn’t moving.
“I’m glad you asked, Katia,” Ryan replied softly. He set the case down on the floor of the van and then unzipped it. “This is something that should be very familiar to you.”
Horrifying thoughts started galloping through my head, and I was powerless to stop them. Is he going to hurt me? Is he going to shave me? Is there a vibrator in there? Pictures of me with Dante?
When Ryan opened the bag to show me a compact and makeup, I was almost surprised.
“You don’t look very pretty right now,” Ryan said. He sneered. “In fact, Katia, you look almost ugly.” The last word was spat with venom. “I don’t think you’d win any prizes!” Ryan threw his head back, laughing hysterically at his own joke.
Nervously, I giggled.
“So, let’s make you a little prettier. Come here, Katia.” He beckoned me with his two fingers. “Come closer.”
I stared. I wasn’t sure what he was going to do, but I didn’t like it.
“Come here,” Ryan said a bit firmer. “And you know what to call me.” He raised his eyebrows.
When I didn’t reply, Ryan reached into his pocket and pulled out the small black Taser. Before I could resist, he jabbed me in the chest, dangerously close to my nipple. The searing pain shooting through my body was worse than anything I’d endured, and my body jerked painfully through the air as Ryan pressed the torture device closer and closer to my skin.
When he finally pulled the Taser away, there were two small scorch marks in my shirt. I was shaking and drooling, and my limbs ached like I’d just run a marathon. I coughed feebly, wiping my mouth with the back of my hands.
“Come here,” Ryan said. He held up the Taser. “You don’t want me to use this again, do you?”
I shook my head. “No,” I murmured. “No, Mr. Winter.”
Ryan broke out into a wide grin. “Good Katia. Now, you’re looking a little shak
y to me. So, I’m going to help you with this makeup. Sit still,” he ordered, his voice was silky and warm.
I shuddered. Ryan held up a cheap tin of drugstore eyeshadow. I watched as he rubbed the tiny sponge over a blue pan. When he was done, I waited for him to hand it over. Instead, he held it up to my face and gave me an expectant look.
“Katia, I know you’re a beauty queen, but even queens need mirrors. You’re going to have to let me put this on for you.”
I was about to protest when I remembered the hot, stinging pain of the Taser. Obediently, I closed my eyes. Ryan’s touch on my lids was feather-light. It tickled, which only made me feel sick. As he stroked the blue shadow across my whole lid, I held my breath.
“There, there,” Ryan said. “That’s much better.” He layered on more blue shadow, then wiped silver shadow up to my brows. When he held a mascara wand up in the air, I trembled.
“I’m not going to poke you in the eye,” Ryan said calmly. “At least, not unless you move. Keep your eyes open,” he ordered.
My eyes filled with tears once again, but I managed to keep my eyelids open just enough for him to coat my lashes with the cheap mascara. It stung and burned, and tears began to drip from my eyes as Ryan applied coat after coat of mascara.
“You’re looking better already,” Ryan said. He capped the mascara and tossed it back in the cosmetic bag. The last item to come out of the bag was a tube of coral lipstick. Ryan applied it with little care, getting it all over the skin around my lips. I was sure I looked horrible, but I didn’t understand exactly why he was doing this.
“Well, you may not look like a beauty queen, but you’re something,” Ryan said. He leaned back on his haunches with satisfaction, surveying his handiwork.
“What are you going to do with me?” My voice trembled as I spoke. “Where are we going?”
Ryan laughed. “Well, I think Mexico would be a good first stop.” He raised his eyebrows as my heart sank. “No one’s going to look for you there,” he added, effectively reading my thoughts. “And Katia, I wouldn’t think you’d have your passport on you, do you?”
I shook my head warily.
“Well, then I’ll just have to sneak you across the border.” He rubbed his hands together in delight.
“Why are you taking me to Mexico?”
Ryan grinned. “So, I can do whatever I want with you, my little beauty queen. And you haven’t been calling me Mr. Winter. I think it’s time for a little punishment.”
“No.” I moaned loudly. “Please, Mr. Winter, don’t punish me! Please!”
I braced myself for another horrific shock from the little black Taser, but this one was worse than before. The air rushed out of my lungs, and I felt like I was trapped underwater, drowning and struggling for air. As I attempted to scream, I felt my body bounce and jolt in the air.
Ryan was laughing. “You were moving around like a little rag doll!” He chuckled again. “Damn, that’s funny. I don’t know why I didn’t get me a girl years ago!”
“Why me?” I asked through gasps. “Why are you doing this to me?”
Ryan leaned close. His breath was putrid enough to make me gag, and I shuddered as he rested his forehead against mine and deliberately blew a long stream of air in my face. Gagging and coughing, I fell to the side and covered my face with my hands.
“Because I can, bitch,” Ryan said. There was no trace of kindness or joy in his voice now. “Because that’s exactly what I can do, and I derive a strange sort of pleasure from hurting the woman who snubbed me. I was the most goddamn powerful man in Hollywood, Katia. I had everything I wanted. Pussy all the time, women licking and sucking my balls who were more beautiful than you’ll ever be. But you rejected me, so I wanted you even more.”
A hot tear dripped down my cheek, and I wiped it away. My fingers came back black, and I knew that mascara was smeared all over my face.
“Don’t cry,” Ryan barked out. “You’ll ruin your makeup. And trust me, the second time won’t be as fun for me. It won’t be fun for you, either. You ever think about what it would feel like to get shocked in the pussy?”
I howled with fear. Ryan only laughed. Finally, he climbed to his knees and crawled back into the front of the van. Seconds later, I felt the van moving away from the shoulder of the road and merging.
It was then that I began to feel truly hopeless. If Dante didn’t hurry, I was going to be lost and gone forever.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Dante
I heard Katia’s ear-piercing scream cutting through the air. Just then, the van began to move again. Her scream had paralyzed me momentarily. It was like I’d forgotten how to breathe. But as I saw the van taking off into the darkness, I knew that if anything, hearing her shrieks of pain had only strengthened my resolve.
Tightening the grip on my handlebars, I steered the bike onto the road behind the van. The roar of another bike behind me was enough to make me turn my head, and I grinned when I saw Tristan and Marlo coming up from the left. Tristan saluted me.
“That’s him,” I yelled, pointing ahead towards the white utility van as it swerved and careened over the roads. I didn’t know what Ryan had done to Katia, but I couldn’t get the sound of her screams out of her head. Every time I blinked, every time I closed my goddamn eyes, I heard her shrieks of pain.
Marlo and Tristan nodded.
“We’ll get that fucker!” Marlo yelled over the roar of the bikes. “We’ll fuckin’ get him—don’t worry, Dante!”
I didn’t reply. Instead, I gritted my teeth and kept staring straight ahead as the van careened around a sharp turn. I had no idea where we were going. We were headed south, towards the border of Mexico. I knew that Ryan couldn’t possibly be stupid enough to try to take Katia into Mexico, but then again, I didn’t think he’d have been stupid enough to shoot Troy, either.
This guy was truly unhinged. I felt guilty for not taking Katia more seriously when she’d told me about what a creep he was. I’d just assumed he was some scorned white guy, embittered because a beauty queen had turned him down time. But this was insane. It was almost like he’d been waiting for the right moment to snap.
I wondered what that moment was. Katia’s assistant, Anya, had been getting creepy phone calls for weeks before Katia heard anything from Ryan. Had Ryan wanted Anya to convey the message sooner? Was he pissed that she hadn’t told Katia immediately? Why had Ryan waited until Katia had me around before trying anything truly gnarly?
The van showed no signs of slowing down or stopping again. I was starting to get frustrated. No, more than that—I was starting to get really, really angry. Fury was seeping into my veins and taking over my blood; it was pumping through my limbs and infusing my whole body with a sense of rage. I had a feeling that Ryan knew we were following him and that he was only doing this to make me sweat.
You’ll be the one sweating in prison, trying to get away from all of the other men, I thought with a humorless smile as I kicked my bike into a higher gear. You know what they do to kidnappers and rapists, don’t you? They’re gonna kick your ass and make sure you’re hollering for your mother by the end of shower-time.
The wind blew into my face, blowing back my lips and ruffling my eyelashes into my eyes. I squinted and leaned down closer to the handlebars, pressing on.
“Where’s he going?” Marlo yelled. He pulled his bike alongside mine. “If we don’t stop, we’re gonna be in Mexico soon!”
I nodded. I didn’t want to say anything that could make it truer. I was already more terrified of never seeing Katia again than anything in the world, and if Ryan took her to Mexico, I knew that was exactly what would happen. I didn’t even have a passport, so it wasn’t like I could chase her. And if he smuggled her over the border….
Chills ran down my spine. No, I wouldn’t think about that just yet. I wasn’t ready to think about that.
I sped up until I was driving alongside the van. I could still hear Katia’s screams in my head. They sent shivers of te
rror through my whole body, but at least she was alive. At least she was able to scream. I knew that she had to be terrified. I wondered how it had happened. Had he knocked on the door and grabbed her, taking her out to the van and then driving away? Or had she left the motel room, looking for me, and they’d stumbled upon each other like old friends?
No matter how it happened, I knew that it was my fault.
Ideally, Marlo, Tristan, and I would be able to get Katia free of Ryan’s clutches without resorting to extreme violence. That was an absolute rule that the Heaven’s Veil had always followed. But if Ryan didn’t stop soon, I’d grab Marlo’s gun and blow one of the tires out. I almost wanted to see the van crash, except for the very real possibility that Katia would be hurt. I’d seen the inside of those utility vans before—cold, impersonal metal. If she wasn’t restrained, she was probably already bruised to hell and back from sliding around in the van.
