19. Speed Dating Psychos
Speed Dating Psychos
CARTER
Bag tied around my neck, I stumbled around and couldn’t quite get the damn thing off. Without my sight, my other senses heightened, and my head snapped up as I heard the slide of metal and then felt the barrel of a gun press into my chest.
Instinct took over as I twisted the gun out of my assailant’s hands using a maneuver I’d done countless times and launched a hard kick that landed square in his thick chest, trying to figure out what the hell was going on.
I didn’t use the firearm for several reasons, the main one being the young family that lived across the hall. Instead, in several swift movements, I ejected the clip of bullets and emptied the one in the chamber before I frantically grappled with the bag on my head.
I finally yanked it loose, and my eyes blew wide the instant I ripped the bag off, because a second later I was tackled to the ground.
As we fell through my now open door, I took the impact of both of our bodies, and my shoulder hit the ground first. There was a sickening, nerve-numbing crunch as he came down on top of me, and I growled out a gasp, instantly realizing my shoulder had dislocated .
Shoulder barking with pain, I dragged myself up, eyes narrowing in on my attacker. Good shoulder down, I rammed into the man’s stomach, and we slammed into the TV stand, breaking it clean in half.
I shook my head, blinking as I scrambled up, realizing I was getting dizzier by the second. “What do you want?” I demanded, circling with the man around my living room, with one arm dangling totally useless by my side.
I inched towards the kitchen where my gun was when a figure appeared in the doorway.
“It’s over. Sit your ass down.” I realized it was the blonde from the bar, and she was aiming a gun at me.
What the fuck?
I put my good hand up in surrender, and just as I was about to launch myself at her, another man filled the doorway behind her.
“You’ve got to be shitting me.” I muttered. “What the fuck do you want?” I demanded.
“What I wanted was a good time.” The blonde rolled her eyes. “Guess we have to do this the hard way.” She pulled out a kitchen chair and motioned with the gun. “Sit.”
I stumbled, grabbing the arm of the couch as my legs started to give out.
Oh shit, I had minutes. Maybe.
“Get him.” She snapped, waving the gun around wildly enough that I knew she was dangerous, simply for the reason that it was clear that she had no idea how to handle that thing.
As I backed away, my knees betrayed me and gave out beneath me—a moment later, the men grabbed me by each arm, and dragged me into the kitchen, making me scream in pain as my dislocated shoulder wrenched the wrong way.
I was immediately in a cold sweat as the two men slammed me down into the chair, and my head erupted with a dull headache. My hands were zip-tied behind my back, further wrenching my arm, feet zip-tied to each leg of the chair, and a nylon rope tied ghastly tight around my chest.
Still, the front door was open. “FIRE!” I shouted as loud and long as I could.
“Shut up.” Pain bloomed behind my eye as I took a hard punch to the face.
I groaned, desperately trying to bring the room into focus, as it steadily became more and more fuzzy.
I blinked as they closed the door and then stood in front of me in the kitchen.
“If you’re planning to have a threesome on my kitchen table.
” I panted. “I must warn you, it’s only rated up to two hundred pounds.
” My heart was racing far too fast now, and I hoped that whatever drugs were in my system didn’t kill me.
“Ha ha, very funny.” The woman snapped and pointed between us with the gun. “No, we’re gonna have a little chat, you and I.”
I blinked, trying to shake the black spots speckling my vision. “Excuse me if I’m not inclined to cooperate with your method of speed dating.” The rope was the only thing keeping me upright now, and my head felt heavier than lead.
“The Society is tired of waiting for your cooperation.” She said, and my wheels immediately started turning, shocked, as I tried to sort this out, figure a way out of this before I lost consciousness.
“I don’t know what the hell they’re waiting for.
” My left ear started to ring, my eardrum fluttering painfully, and I felt like I was going to puke any second now.
“I gave you all my answer years ago.” I pulled against my restraints, but it only made the excruciating pain in my shoulder shoot down my arm and up my neck.
I bit back a whimper and tried again with no luck.
“Yes, well, you were young and dumb then.” I lifted my head to see the woman shrug as she spun the gun around her finger carelessly.
“The director has been wildly patient, and now he’s ready to put some pressure on you.
He will get what he wants. Eventually. And right now, you have two options, join or turn over the estate. ”
I closed my eyes, trying to ground myself, trying to breathe through the pain, trying to draw in a full breath to steady myself.
“You can tell him that’s never going to happen.
” My head snapped to the side from the punch I didn’t see coming.
I laughed as blood dripped out of my mouth with a metal tang and black edged around my vision, all while I fought to stay conscious.
“You gave him too much.” A male voice said.
“How was I supposed to know? I’m not a fucking pharmacist.”
My heart was pounding way too fast. Could a heart explode? It felt like it was going to. “What did you give me?” I demanded weakly.
God, I didn’t want to die from a fucking overdose. I had things I needed to do, things I needed to say.
“You’ll be fine.” The woman responded. “If you cooperate.”
My response was jumbled and nonsensical, my tongue a dead weight in my mouth.
“Your membership is not a request; it is a requirement, and I suggest you concede in a timely manner. Otherwise, our little party here will be the least of your problems.”
That was the last thing I heard before I blacked out.
Sarafina
I laid in bed that night and stared at the giant bucket of paint in the corner of my room, debating if I should text Carter about the whole ridiculous thing.
Debated even calling him instead, but ultimately decided I didn’t want to seem like a sad, needy nuisance after my embarrassing breakdown earlier today.
I scrolled through his latest messages anyway.
Carter
Hey, just wanted to check on you today. It’s supposed to be a beautiful day. Get outside and get some fresh air. Hope you have a great day, pretty girl.
You’re going to get through this. I know it doesn’t seem like it, but you WILL have good days again. I’m here for you anytime. Day or night. I mean it.
Also, I’m really excited to get my painting btw
Fucking excited!!!!! But you get the point
I smiled and thumbed over to my banking app and sent the balance for the painting back to him, and waited.
I understood why Professor Alden had said to keep it, but right now, this was a bit of a ritual between Carter and me—somehow easier than texting actual words.
Besides, Carter always sent the money right back within a matter of minutes. It was our weird little game of tag.
I laid in bed scrolling social media and periodically thumbing over to my banking app, checking, but still no response from Carter.
Hours went by as I laid there just waiting, feeling worse and worse.
I wasn’t sure how long I waited, but eventually I realized he wasn’t going to send the balance back this time.
I shook my head, feeling silly that I had expected him to be available on demand.
He had his own life, and it’s not like he was waiting in great anticipation for my texts.
Maybe he’d decided the painting wasn’t worth that much anyway, because it definitely wasn’t.
The sad truth was, he was just probably being nice when we’d spoken on the phone earlier because that’s who Carter was. He would have stayed on the phone with me while I cried like a lunatic, simply because that’s what he would have done for any one of his friends. I wasn’t special .
I laid in bed and went back and forth, tormenting myself before finally composing another text to him.
Sorry it took so long to send the painting.
I hesitated before typing out another message.
Don’t sue me if I put too much bubble wrap on it. It’s going to take you a WHILE to get it all off. Hah. I just wanted to make sure it got to you in one piece.
I stared at the thread, but the three little dots never popped up.
The longer I waited, the more I wished I would have just played it cool and thanked him for earlier.
I groaned. Was it too needy to send another text thanking him?
Should I wait for him to respond first? Maybe he was annoyed with me. I would be annoyed with me.
I composed another text just in case. I didn’t want to seem like an ungrateful ass. Thanking him was the least I could do.
Thanks again for earlier and sorry I’ve been so lame.
I sent the message, forcing myself to plug in my phone and hide it inside my nightstand. Out of sight. Out of mind.
Tossing and turning, sleep completely eluding me, I finally caved in the wee hours of the morning and checked my texts, but still no response .
I threw the phone back into my drawer, hating the tears that streamed down my face as I stared at the ceiling.
I’d definitely pushed him away with my psychotic emotions.
Why was I so needy? Why couldn’t I just get a grip and move on like everyone else seemed to be able to? Why did everything feel so damn hard?
I just wanted to go back to those perfect moments at Thanksgiving, when my mother was alive, when Carter and I had mended things and were talking again, when I had an appetite for life and for food. When things were normal .
I was desperate to grab onto something that I just couldn’t seem to wrap my fingers around, because it didn’t exist. Not anymore.
Carter had his own life, and I just needed to let it go. Needed to let him go.