Chapter 46
Chapter
Forty-Six
“Will you please stop! Turn around, Mav.” It’s a waste of time since he’s ignored my request a hundred times already. For the last couple of hours, all he’s done is sit resting with his back against the passenger door and watch.
“Sue me, I’m worried,” he says, completely unfazed by my request.
“And I told you, you don’t need to be. Heidi started bawling when I saw her, although I was already wound up from seeing Simona. Honestly, if someone around me cries, I’m sobbing along with them. It doesn’t mean it’s bad but everything is changing.”
“For the good though, right?”
“Yeah, for sure. Seeing Raney happy was something we all needed,” I confess, reaching for the Slurpee we’re meant to be sharing after all.
Even though it was a quick lunch / catch up at Raney’s new pack home, it was the first time the four of us had been together since the shooting at Birdies. It was always going to be an emotional reunion. Maverick had to drive until I could stop the tears and dry my face enough to put on a mask and some eye gel. The last thing I need for tomorrow is puffy eyes, but I’m certain after we get to enjoy our afternoon date of watching movies and snuggling, I’ll be blemish free for our photo shoot in the morning.
“Any news yet?” I ask, taking a long, purposeful slurp on our Slurpee. Mav’s idea was to mix and make our own flavour combination, it kind of works.
He goes to say something but stops, his eyes go wide and I start to panic except then his face changes and he’s in awe of me or something. “What?”
“No brain freeze? What are you, a freak?” He laughs before taking back the cup, and stretching over the car seat to pass over a pink Starburst that he has between his lips. “Don’t say I don’t spoil you. Hop over into the next lane, we have to take a left on Saints Row.”
Checking my rear-vision mirror, the traffic isn’t too busy but it is picking up. Big Tom and Tonka are following behind us, a few car lengths back. I hit the brakes a bit too hard when it’s clear they won’t make it through and the driver behind me gives me his horn and his middle finger.
“Charming.” I mutter.
Maverick lifts his lip in a snarl but before he can climb out of the car to go teach the person behind us some manners, I grab his hand. “Any messages?”
I think I’ve asked him about a hundred times since we started driving away from Raney’s and this time as soon as he picks it up it makes a noise.
It’s nerve wracking to wait for him to tell me word for word but in a way he doesn’t need to, there’s clearly not good news. He tries to make a call. “Hey, give me a call. Saw your message. Not great but we’re fine.”
The light goes green and we take off except almost as soon as we make it through the crossing, everyone behind us gets stopped by the lights and sirens of a fire truck. I can’t pull over anywhere to wait for Big Tom so I take my foot off the accelerator and we cruise through the next set of lights, waiting for them to catch up. My phone rings, and I pick it up laughing because Big Tom is as predictable as the sun rising. “I’m going as slow as I can.”
“You good?” he asks in his usual quiet stoicism.
“Yeah, no worries. Why?”
I hear him take a sigh before he speaks, “Just a weird day, or maybe we got…”
I’m so invested in the conversation I’m having with Big Tom, the movement out of the corner of my eye doesn’t register until the very last second, and then time stands still.
I barely have time to scream before a huge truck smashes into Maverick. But then time warps and slows and I see everything happening; Maverick’s body nearly bends in half on impact, he flies in my direction but I’m being thrown too. My ears ring as the collision explodes the glass and crushes the metal around us.
I remember watching Maverick reaching for me, raising my arm to him before everything blacks out.
Every cell in my body is screaming in pain and shock, my eyes won’t open and I have no idea what the hell is going on but there is a voice in my head, telling me to wait.
“Are you fucking sure, Mary?” a woman’s voice whines.
She interrupts the noise and disorientation in my head, except instead of fighting to sit up or figure out what is going on, my body locks up and makes me listen and think before I do anything.
“Mary, are you sure?” Her voice doesn’t trigger any memories. I’m pretty sure I’ve never heard it. I might have, but I definitely know I’ve never met anyone called Mary before. It’s such an old name, and her voice suggests she’s not that old.
I also figure out I’m not with Maverick or Big Tom. By the stink of the car seat I’m lying on, and the position I’m in it’s easy to jump to the conclusion I’m not in an ambulance either. There’s bad signs everywhere but I keep my eyes shut, keep as still as I can, hoping I get more of a chance to figure out exactly where I am, who I’m with and what is going on before they know I’m awake.
“Of course I am sure,” another woman answers. “I’ve been watching her. And if you want proof, surely the ring?”
The spite and aggression in her voice is surprising, and her voice doesn’t give me much to work with except to confirm I’ve never met her either. At the mention of a ring, my finger throbs, and as slowly as I can I move, which isn’t really necessary because there’s a hollowness inside my chest, like I already know I’ve lost something important. King’s ring is gone. I have a growing suspicion at least one of the people in this car is responsible for taking it and is the source of the harassing texts I’ve been getting.
That thought barely sinks in when a sharp stab of pain hits me in the chest, and it’s impossible to pinpoint the source. It flares red hot before it dims and almost fills with a sense of calmness. My bond with my pack is alive, but more than that, they know I’m in danger.
I feel better, but I don’t have the luxury of time to relax, as I go sliding over the back seat when the car takes a sudden and sweeping bend too fast. I get slammed against the door.
“Yeah, well, she wouldn’t be the only person in the world wearing…” the other person says, both of them ignoring the sound of me hitting the car door.
My foot gets caught at an awkward angle, nearly snapping under the weight of my body. I bite my lip, trying not to make a noise.
“Shut up! I heard something.” The car slows. “You have to look to see if she’s awake. For me, please, Marg.”
The other person tuts. “I’m not touching her, what if my DNA goes on her, and the cops bust me ’cause she’s got a hair or something of mine.”
“You need to stop watching CSI. Honestly, it’s not true, it’s actually all bullshit.” They start to squabble. Like siblings.
“Yeah, well no guessing where you got the idea for all this in the first place.” They laugh together, confirming my suspicion they know each other intimately.
“No, I got the idea in the first place because he told me I was a good screw. He doesn’t say that to everyone.”
“I swear if you were not my sister, I really would have you committed,” the other woman teases before they start talking about mental asylums. It is like they’ve forgotten about me completely, and in the time they keep talking bullshit I manage to shift around quietly, and eventually sit up without them noticing.
“Who are you?”
The both of them jump a mile, the car even crosses on the wrong side of the road until the driver gets control of herself.
“Mary,” she barks, flicking her head and the woman in the passenger seat twists around, a fist raised.
I come face to face with the bitch from the toilet in the hospital, but instead of being full of bitchy bravado like she did when she threatened me, she waits for the other woman to tell her what to do.
I turn to look at the driver. And wait for her to speak since she’s clearly the leader.
“You don’t need to know who I am,” she spits over her shoulder, but since she’s driving she can’t really do too much.
“Clearly I’m going to argue with you there…” I reply. Obviously you’re not meant to taunt people who kidnap you but my fear makes me overly mouthy, too confident. She twists in her seat again wondering if I really did say what I said, but I smile like a crocodile waiting for an answer, before I push her even more. “Mary, right?”
She looks like she wavers in indecision until she regains her footing, “Mary, hold the steering wheel.” It happens quickly, Mary reaches over and Margaret twists around in her seat and thrusts a hunting knife inches from my face.
“Every time I look at you, I can’t figure it out,” she snarls, leaning closer to me. “You have nothing. Trust me, I’m saving you from the humiliation, because it wasn’t if he dumps your miserable ass, it was when.” Her eyes narrow and it’s easy to see an awful person inside, full of poison.
She’s got the upper hand, clearly, but I have too because no matter how fucking crazy Margaret is, she’s missed seeing King’s bite on my throat. I suspect if she knew he had claimed me, I’d be a hell of a lot more than just scared. I’d be bleeding for sure.
I drop my eyes submissively and stop talking now I’ve got the basics. I mean, the reality is names weren’t going to change the situation. I thought I may have been able to talk some sense into them but now I’ve seen the look in her eye I know it’s a lost hope. Mumbling an apology, I intentionally give her back the power and the upper hand to give me a chance to try to hopefully figure out how to keep hiding King’s bite from her along with a way out of this mess.
“Hold the knife, Mary. If she moves, stab her.”
The car rocks as Mary turns right around in the car seat, they stop talking and Margaret drives even faster and more recklessly than she was before.
The lack of noise makes the minutes stretch out and I purposely avoid moving or looking in their direction. I sit so I can see them, in case they make a lunge, but at the same time I turn so I can watch where we’re going. It feels like forever as we drive through small towns that look vaguely familiar, down a long straight narrow road with empty farmland on either side.
Eventually, she slows and takes a sharp turn into a smaller road, the driveway nearly concealed by the tall, overgrown weeds. The dirt road is full of potholes, and it takes a long time to drive to the end. No one would think of coming out here. It’s so out of the way, obviously abandoned.
The two story barn is so fucking old it leans at an angle. Parts of the roof are hanging off, the doors are practically rotted through and there’s enough light still outside to see how grungy and derelict the place is. But on top of that wherever we are has an ominous feeling like dead hope.
“Let’s go. I want to be as far away as possible when they come to get her,” Margaret says hurriedly without looking at me.
And words are words, she could just be winding me up to keep me nervous but by the way she moves, you can see she’s freaked out by whoever is coming. And Mary definitely doesn’t even hide the fact she’s spooked, she literally shakes when she goes to open the door. What has this crazy bitch agreed to?
Her sister climbs out of the car and turns to look at me. She doesn’t take her eyes off me, it’s unnerving the way she stares as she talks to her sister. “Is this really what you want to do? We could just beat her, leave her here. She wouldn’t talk, she wouldn’t find us. Same result for you.”
“I’ve got the money already, it’s not as simple as changing my mind now, Mary. I’m pretty sure you can’t back out of a deal with these guys and live to tell. No one will ever know, I promise.” Margaret walks around to Mary, but as she does her eyes move anxiously around, like she’s expecting ghosts to jump out.
Her sister keeps pushing Margaret, maybe to triple check her motivations. “They’re okay. I could stick around while you talk to them.”
She pulls a face when she looks at me. “For her? Nah.”
Mary puts her hands on Margaret’s shoulders to make her look at her. “And you are going to stay with Momma Cass to let the dust settle before you start up on him again.”
“I promise I won’t blow this now. But for everything to work, I need you to help me. Once she’s gone everything will be fine.”
Mary searches her sister’s face before she nods once. Sealing my fate. In that moment I lose my humanity and become an object.
Margaret flings her arms around her sister. “Thank you. You know I’d help you out if you needed me. I promise, no one will be able to figure it out.”
Then the two crazy bitches hug it out again before they both turn to me. And what I see in their eyes reflecting back is terrifying. Everything happens at warp speed then.
I don’t get the chance to struggle when I get hauled out of the car. Mary between hugging her sister and opening the car door has embraced her psycho side. She’s unnecessarily rough, dragging me out the car with a fist full of hair before pressing the blade of the knife to my throat, marching me inside the old barn.
“Sit fucking down.” She shoves me in the chest, and I somehow land on an old wooden farm chair without falling off.
As soon as I sit, she changes her mind. “Stand up.”
Her changing her mind is not at all what happens. Mary grabs handfuls of my clothes and uses the knife to cut them off.
The instant she sees the fading hickeys, she slaps me across the face. My fear explodes, drowning out the pain. I don’t move an inch, I don’t say a word, but I do start praying she doesn’t notice the concealer covering my bonding scars. I do okay, all things considered, until she slices my underwear and rips my bra and panties off, and then I start begging.
Fear makes me plead for my life, it also has my body locking up. I’m as stiff as a board, my arms or legs not bending. But I’m not doing it intentionally. A primal part of me fights desperately against being tied to the chair knowing how bad it will be.
Margaret slaps my face so fucking hard I see nothing but glittering stars in my eyes, but I still can’t move. She does it a second, third time and only stops when Mary steps in.
“Margaret, you said we weren’t allowed to bruise her. It would kill the deal, right? Come on, she’s shit scared and shaking like a fucking leaf. You do her legs and I’ll do her arms.”
They prod and poke my body to where they need it to be before they use rope to keep me bent into shape. I start to hyper-ventilate when the two of them work together to spread open my legs, using all the rope they have to make sure they stay open too.
The final humiliation, they turn me to face the door.
By the time they’re driving away, I can’t get any air in my lungs. Tears stream down my face.
I’m so fucking scared but no matter how hard I try to yell for help nothing comes out.