Chapter 20
CHAPTER TWENTY
Winter
Boots shift. The sound stirs the acid in my stomach, making me nauseous. My body is still too heavy to move. I’m helpless lying on this cold wet floor. I cough and cough. Water is still lingering in my lungs, burning.
Prez still stands next to me, lighting another cigarette like this is just another Friday night. Hell, maybe it is. The executioner appears at my other side with a metal tray in hand. I have no idea what is on it, but the gleam in his eye tells me it’s nothing good.
Overhead, the bare bulb swings when the executioner bumps it with his shoulder. He laughs when I gag from the motion of light. “I see you’re starting to crash.” Kneeling beside me, he says, “Better get you back on that high, sweetheart.”
No, I don’t want any more of whatever drug that he pumped into my veins. That is some wicked stuff, and I don’t like the ill effects it has on me. The glint of light on metal has me twitching to get away.
Prez steps on my left arm to hold it down while the man with the needle grabs my other arm, jabbing the needle into the vein in my inner elbow. Warmth shoots up my arm and it only takes two seconds for the heat to dull all my senses.
Then I’m just floating. No pain. No cares. Just me and bliss.
Metal jingles. The shackle around my ankle moves. A key slides into the lock and the heavy metal falls away. My leg twitches with the newfound freedom. It’s nice. Almost as nice as taking off your bra at the end of the day.
Warm hands slide under me, lifting me off the cold floor. “Just enjoy the high while we take a little trip.”
His words drip around me like melted butter. Not sure how that’s possible, but here I am watching his words drip like liquid butter on popcorn. I’m not sure who is carrying me, faces are nothing but a blur at this point.
Opening my mouth to speak is a chore. The signal from my brain to my lips seems to have gotten lost along the way. Not to mention my tongue is thick and heavy and my throat is drier than the dessert.
A strange noise escapes my lips.
Laughter. I’m not sure who is laughing. It could be both men. Or is it three men. I can’t remember. “Don’t strain yourself, sweetheart. Just enjoy the ride.”
Jostling twists my insides. My stomach heaves but nothing comes up. A door opens. Light floods into the room and music hurts my ears. Faces gaze at me. Laughter rings out all around. Someone calls for Ghost and the inner parts of my brain registers the name.
“Ghost, this is your rodeo. Take her and do with her as you will.”
“Yes, Prez.” The man named Ghost smirks at me. It’s distorted and evil. Then he looks at the man holding me. “Rat, you’re with me.”
Rat? I squint, trying to see the face of the man holding me. It takes great effort, but I finally recognize him as the one I call the executioner.
The man holding me, Rat, nods. “You got it VP.”
Movement plays tricks on my vision as we travel through the house. Then cool air hits my skin. My wet clothes turn frigid from the drop in temperature. Ghost laughs from somewhere nearby. Stars twinkle in the darkness above.
One minute there are stars, the next they’re gone. I squint, trying to find them because they’re pretty to look at. All I see is shades of green, yellow, and red. The color of fall leaves. Oh, those are beautiful. I’m so lost in the colorful leaves that I don’t notice the sound of gunfire at first.
The jostling gets intense and soon the pretty leaves are no more. Stars shine down on me once again. Then the movement stops and a hand slaps over my mouth. My eyes grow wide. A creak of metal. Soft footfalls on the ground. The click of a door.
Sweat starts to dampen my face and neck. Not because I’m hot, I’m not. My body is still shivering from the cold. Hot liquid rises in my throat, and the bitter taste of bile hits my tongue. I can’t spit it out, there is still a hand pressed to my lips, so I swallow.
A shadow appears in my peripheral. Ghost’s voice is too loud to my own ears. “Time to move.”
Bright light nearly blinds me. Thumping of boots on tile meet my ears as we move through the house.
I hear chair legs banging on the floor, like someone is thrashing it around in a fit of anger.
Cracking an eye open, I look for the source of the noise.
In the corner of the room is a big burly man tied to a wooden chair.
Duct tape is over his mouth and wraps around his head to secure it in place.
On the opposite side of the room is another chair. Rat sets me down on it and Ghost begins wrapping rope around my torso to keep me from falling off. My legs get tied next, then my hands are bound behind the back of the chair.
Because I have no control of my body, my head lolls to the side. “God, she’s pathetic.” Ghost grabs a handful of hair and lifts my head. “You ready to bring that boyfriend of yours to his knees?”
Do I have a boyfriend? Wait, flickers of memory try to surface through the fog. Brown eyes. But they’re not the brown eyes that make me weak in the knees. No, these eyes leave a bad taste in my mouth. Billy. My ex.
Gross.
More and more memories start to trickle in now that I’m glancing around at this familiar room. Jelly, my best friend. Halloween night. A biker carnival. Haunted houses and black angel wings. Wings on a bare chest that smells of cool spices, lavender, and musky wood.
Fang. Yes, Fang was my fallen angel on Halloween. “Fang.” My tongue is thick, and the word is garbled as it falls from my lips.
Ghost chuckles. “Yes, we’re about to play a little game with that asshole boyfriend of yours.”