Chapter Nine- Dior #3
I was approaching a Chick-fil-A and decided to stop there and get a large fries to munch on as I drove.
I didn't really want anything, I was curious to see if the car would stop also.
Glancing in the rearview mirror as I turned onto the parking lot.
I bit nervously into my lip when the sedan also turned and did the same.
Once I found a spot, I took a deep breath before I hopped out.
I looked back at the Sedan that had parked a good distance away from mine, waiting to see if anybody was about to come out.
Unfortunately, nobody did, so I walked into the restaurant.
Joining the short line, the uneasy feeling never left me.
When it was my turn to order, I did so quickly, needing to be on my way as fast as I could.
While I waited for my order of waffle fries, I walked toward the door so I could look to see if the car was still parked outside. Once I saw it was there, I squinted to see if I could make out who the driver was. The tint on the vehicle was a little too dark, and I couldn’t see shit.
Making my way back to the counter, I collected my order and prepared to leave. Nervously, I walked back to my vehicle. I decided that if the sedan started following me again, I would have no choice but to call Buddha. I kept my head down as I briskly made it to the Porsche and climbed inside.
Placing the food on the passenger seat, I buckled my seatbelt and reached up to adjust the rearview mirror. As soon as I did that, my mouth opened to release a blood-curdling scream, but a hand was placed over my mouth before I could.
“Shhhh,” he said, placing his other hand against his lips.
My eyes grew wide when I saw the gun. His hand over my mouth pressed further against my skin, almost covering my nose.
I struggled to breathe a little, fear gripping every part of my body.
I cursed in my head that I hadn’t warned Buddha the moment I realized I was being followed.
I mean, how did this man even get inside my vehicle?
“Mmmm,” I mumbled, trying to speak. I was about to beg for my life and plead with this stranger to spare me and take whatever he wanted.
“Shhhh, I’m not going to hurt you. I need you to do one thing for me. Can you do that one thing for me?” The strange man asked me. I nodded my head vigorously, waiting to hear his demand.
“I need you to give your husband a message for me.” Immediately, I frowned as I looked at the man in the backseat from the rearview mirror.
I had no idea who he was, but I now learned this had something to do with Buddha.
I listened to his message, and a cold chill ran up my spine as tears slowly trickled down my cheeks.
“You tell that to your husband; he’ll know exactly what I mean. Now, close your eyes and count to ten.” He said, pressing the barrel of the gun against my temple. I whimpered softly, scared out of my fucking mind that he was about to blow my brains out.
“I’m going to remove my hand from your mouth. If you so much as scream, they’ll be cleaning your brain matter off the roof of your brand new Porsche. Nod your head so I’ll know you understand me.”
I didn’t hesitate to do as he said and nodded my head. Not ignoring the fact that he knew my vehicle was new. How could he have known that unless he had been following us all day?
“Good girl, so I’m going to remove my hand now. Keep those eyes closed and begin counting as soon as I move my hand.” I listened to his instructions carefully. Slowly, he lifted his hand off my mouth, and with a shaky breath, I began to count.
“1…2…3…” I was so terrified to stop; even though I heard the door open and close, indicating that he left, I still kept going.
When I reached ten, I slowly opened my eyes and checked the backseat.
Sure enough, the strange man was gone. I looked for the sedan, and that was also gone.
I exhaled loudly as tears flowed like a river down my cheeks.
My hands were shaking like a leaf as I got my phone out to call Buddha.
“Dior,” Once I heard Buddha’s voice on the other end, I lost it and began crying uncontrollably. “Dior? What the fuck is the matter? Dior!” Buddha began shouting into the phone, demanding that I answer him and tell him what’s wrong.
I struggled to get it together, wiping my eyes and nose before I started to speak. “I stopped to get something to eat, and when I got back into the car, there was a man in the backseat,” I explained. My voice was soft, but I knew Buddha heard me.
“Tell me where the fuck you are,” Buddha said. I could hear the anger in his voice. He was about to get even angrier with what I was about to say.
“There’s something else, Buddha.”
“The fuck you mean there’s something else?” He asked, barking into the phone.
“That man knew you.” When I said that, he got deathly silent on the other end.
“What the fuck do you mean he knew me?” Buddha asked, his tone low as he waited for me to explain.
“He wanted me to give you a message,” I said tearfully.
“What was the message?”
“He said, It was way too easy to get to me. The next time, he won’t leave me alive unless you tell him where his brother is. What does that mean, Buddha?” I asked, knowing I didn’t really want to know the answer.
“Mothafucka! It means he’s a dead, uomo (man). Tell me where the fuck you are.”