Chapter 18
Annalese
I can’t believe these two idiots shoved me back into the trunk and slammed the door. If Trevor thinks this is going to make me fall back in love with him by having me abducted, he’s crazier than he looks. And Greg thinks he rules the world now that dad’s not around to rein him in. The two of them think they can literally do anything they want and that pisses me off, big time.
I gave up on trying to find a way out of this trunk long ago. I even tried to kick out the taillights from the inside, hoping to stick my arms out to draw attention to the fact that I’ve been kidnapped. It didn’t budge. I have a strange feeling in the pit of my stomach that whoever they hired to grab me, is a professional. If so, this is probably a kill vehicle and as such, he’s welded those taillights into place and removed the emergency exit lever. This leaves me with a feeling that I’m not going to survive this situation, no matter what I do. The only good thing about my situation right now, is that Greg got the asshole who abducted me to take off the wrist ties. I guess they realized I wasn’t gonna fight back.
I move again and am both thrilled and ashamed when I hit my ass on the side of the trunk and feel my cell phone. That should have been the first thing I thought of once my hands were free. I pull it out and immediately turn the ringer down. Then I call Haze. Rather than getting a ringtone, I get a fast busy signal. Weird. That’s never happened to me. I dial the three-digit emergency services number. Again, all I get is a fast busy signal.
A chill creeps up my spine when I realize this fucker actually is a professional of sorts because he’s electronically blocked me from making outgoing calls. No wonder he didn’t search me for a cell phone. His little kill vehicle is equipped with features that enable him to do this kind of shit without being caught. Well fuck him, and the two morons who hired him. Those two have always had more money than sense.
Intent upon outsmarting them, I disable the lock screen and quickly type out a message telling Haze I’ve been abducted by my stepbrother and his best friend. I give as much information on them as possible, I describe my abductor and give a description of his kill vehicle. I remember to add that he said his name was Rick, just Rick. I doubt that’s his real name, but it might come up as an alias when they’re narrowing down possible perps. Then I hit send.
Hopefully, when I get out of this trunk it will automatically send as soon as it gets a signal. If not, then it will be waiting in the draft folder for whoever finds my phone.
Holding the phone close to my chest, I work out a plan in my head to get it into another person’s hands as soon as humanly possible when they let me out of the trunk. I might have to resort to dropping it on the ground for someone to find. I won’t let them kill me and ride off into the sunset to spend my father’s hard-earned cash.
I know all the way down to my bones that if I had been able to get word to Haze, then he would have come for me. Unfortunately, I didn’t have that opportunity, so no one is coming to save me.
As much as it pisses me off, I have to be smart. I can’t keep flying off the handle at Trevor and Greg. If they could play me all those years, making me believe that Trevor really loved me, maybe I can do the same to them? I wouldn’t say I’m a particularly good liar but when one’s life is on the line, it’s an incentive to at least try to beat them at their own game.
My mind goes to my poor mom, still at her rehab unit. She older and her medical problems were far more extensive than mine. The thought of her laying there, lonely and needing me tears at my heart. I draft a second text for her, where I pour all my feelings and love for her. Since this might end up being my last chance to communicate with her, I lay it all out. I remind her of our fun times and let her know that I appreciate how hard she worked to support me growing up. I want her to know how much I love her and what a great mom she was to me.
When I’m finished, I realize that I’m crying. I wish more than anything that my father had never met my stepmother. Not only did my father neglect me as a child after the divorce, but his new wife wouldn’t allow him to give us any more money when it was court ordered. We survived, but my mom had to work her ass off to make ends meet. I suspect all his wealth was locked in a trust and therefore didn’t count when calculating the child support he was ordered to pay. The unfairness of the situation my mother was put in still chafes me, even today.
And then there is Greg, my stepbrother. He carries my father’s last name only because he was adopted into my family. Yet somehow, he inherited all my father’s money. That was bad enough, but why come after me? It’s not like I was trying to get what I was owed. I just wanted to be free from them both. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out how they found me. They must have harassed my mom or listened in on our phone calls. She would never intentionally disclose my location. With Greg’s money it wouldn’t surprise me if he hadn’t paid off one of the staff at the rehab facility. I feel certain they tricked, forced, or threatened her to get information on me. I don’t blame her because I know how the two of them are.
***
We travel for a while, maybe even long enough to get back to our hometown. Memories roll through my mind of neat tree-lined city streets. The gelato stand I used to frequent, as well at my old community college. My heart aches to remember all the things these two assholes have taken from me. We stop, and I hear him open the gas tank and the sound of fuel being pumped into the car. I begin banging on the trunk, hoping someone will notice and call the police. It takes me a few knocks to realize there is no metallic thump when I hit my fist on the trunk. This asshole has done something to mitigate the noise. My heart sinks all over again, as I struggle to cope with the fact that I’m not going to survive this abduction.
I think that I can smell fresh baked bread and remember there is a gas station in my hometown right beside a cracker factory. At certain intervals during the day, it smells like they are baking homemade bread rather than crackers. I have the strongest feeling Greg is taking me back to his house. Memories come flooding back of him tying my hands behind my back and locking me in one of the dingy basement rooms. I can see his smirking face and hear him daring me to tell anyone. He didn’t hurt me physically, but he enjoyed the power he had over me knowing I’d be too scared to tell my dad. Greg was the apple of his eye, the son he’d always wanted, and he’d not hear a bad word said against him. And like an idiot, I kept quiet, putting up with Greg’s cruelty just so I could remain close to my father.
I feel like I’m going to throw up when the car starts leisurely moving down the road again. After a while, I realize that we would have arrived already if he was taking me to his house. No, he’s taking me somewhere else. I can’t make calls or send messages, but my phone still has power and I realize we’ve been driving for almost two hours. The road starts to get bumpy, and we stop shortly thereafter.
Suddenly, the trunk is pulled open, and Trevor and Greg are standing there, staring down at me again.
Trevor laughs at the sight.
My stepbrother is smiling too, “Remind me to tell you all about how I used to lock her up in the basement when we were kids. She freaked out and cried every single time, just like she’s doing right now.”
Trevor seems gleeful at the prospect. Me? I didn’t even realize I was crying. One hand comes up automatically to wipe away the tears. I force my mouth to stay shut because anything I say or do could expedite my coming death.
Rick pulls me out of the trunk by the arm, hitting my legs on the rim of the trunk along the way. I hate this guy with the fire of a thousand suns. Once I’m on my feet, he grabs the cell phone out of my hands, drops it on the ground and stomps on it with the heel of his boot.
I burst out crying again for reasons that aren’t purely down to the searing white-hot pain that makes me afraid my just-healed arm has been re-injured. There are several other cell phones smashed on the ground near mine. That means, they’ve done this multiple times before and clearly gotten away with it. Also, that cell phone was my last hope of getting rescued or someone finding out what happened here today, I just hope that I’d gotten a signal long enough for the messages to send, but it seems unlikely.
These crazy assholes are going to get away with abducting and killing me. And that on top of everything else is so damn unfair.
My poor mom will never know what happened to me. She might think I got tired of dealing with her because of her medical issues, or that I moved on with my life and couldn’t be bothered to keep in touch. Shitting on me was one thing, but heaping more hardship and misery on my mother really pissed me off.
I can’t keep my anger inside a moment longer, even though I promised myself that I would. They clearly have something bad in store for me, so I don’t have a reason to play nicely anymore. “What the hell is the plan, Greg? You gonna kill me and bury the evidence out here in the wilderness?”
Rick backhands me across the face and states sharply. “You don’t speak unless spoken to, bitch.”
I gape at him because I did not see that coming. I had thought any violence would come from my stepbrother, with Travis egging him on.
Rick takes a step closer and grabs my face giving it a shake. “You’re in my house now. From here on out, you do as I say. Other than that, you shut the fuck up. Got it?”
I nod, feeling pain shooting through my face from his overly firm grip. He lets me go, giving me a little shove along the way.
“From now on, you answer with ‘yes, sir’. Do you understand?”
I swallow thickly and say, “Yes, sir,” just like he demanded.
He gestures to the right. Get your ass in the tent and have a seat on the bench at the back. I don’t want to hear a damn word out of you for the rest of the day.”
I turn and sure enough there is a large olive-green tent with camouflage netting thrown over it. To the back there’s a wooden cabin and I wonder why he’s not taking me there instead. Then I have a horrible thought—blood leaves traces that even the best killer can’t destroy. Maybe this is his preferred kill spot?
I hear Trevor gush, “Goddamn Rick, you really know how to shut a bitch up. I should take lessons from you.”
Rick grits out, “I don’t give lessons and if I did, you couldn’t afford them. Remember, you’re the poor half of this partnership. And since you’re not paying for my services, you can shut the fuck up, too.”
Despite whatever danger my future holds I was smiling on the inside at hearing my ex get told off in no uncertain terms. He’s the world’s biggest prick and deserves so much more than being humiliated by a professional killer.
I step into the tent with Rick following close behind. He gives me a rough shove towards a long bench at the back, that’s covered in the kind of plastic sheeting you use to protect furniture when decorating. I stumble forward and sit down. When I look at the floor, I see that it’s covered in waterproof fabric too.
That’s when I realize I’m not getting out of here alive.
He drops down into a plastic lawn chair which is beside a fold-up, cheap looking, plastic picnic table and looks up at my brother. “Do you have my cash?”
Greg heaves a bulging rucksack onto the table in front of my abductor. “Thirty grand in small, unmarked bill, just like you wanted. It’s all there. You can count it, if you like.”
Rick pulls the bag over and unzips it before dumping the contents out onto the table. “Of course I’ll be fucking counting it.” Gesturing towards a beat-up trunk on the right, he states roughly. “Have a seat. This won’t take long.”
Trevor immediately sits, but of course my brother remains standing, because he can’t stand anyone telling him what to do. My father would be rolling over in his grave if he knew Greg had paid a cold-blooded killer to abduct me.
It takes me a second to realize that Trevor is staring at me. A huge evil smile is eating up his face, I don’t like his expression. It creeps me out and I start wondering what the end game is for me, because I don’t see it ending well, whatever they have in store.
Glancing at my brother’s inscrutable face, and to Trevor and his sadistic grin, something dark and horrifying twists in my gut. An image jumps into my mind of me lying in a shallow grave, my eyes staring up at the sky while Rick shovels dirt over my cold, dead body. At that moment, a crow flies overhead, croaking out a hoarse, grating caw, which seems to seal my fate.
I wrap my arms around my waist and curl my legs up against my body, shivering at the mental image of my gruesome death.