Chapter Ten #2
“So, Sven…” I use my sweetest tone, batting my eyelashes like Bugs bloody Bunny when he’s about to pull one over on Elmer Fudd. “Where, pray tell, are you bringing me? I feel it’s within my rights to know that much, don’t you think?”
Sven regards me for a moment, dark eyes and a tight jaw holding back answers to my questions. He’s good.
Finally, he speaks. “Trevel, I’m going to require your absolute cooperation here.
We’ll be traveling together for an extended period of time, and I must warn you, I’m not one for chit-chat.
All you need to know is that you’re leaving Thailand forever.
From the looks of it, you enjoyed yourself here, but playtime is over. Do you understand?”
A small frown tugs at my lips as I roll my eyes. “Lovely. At least tell me you sprung for first class?”
Naturally, no answer.
The next couple of hours consist of Sven yanking me around and barking clipped orders. From the taxi to the airport and finally onto the plane, it’s nothing but, Move. Don’t move. Hurry up. Over here. Stand up. Sit down. Stay still. Eat this. Drink that. No talking.
I swear, the bloke is a wannabe drill sergeant. Talk about reluctant travel companions.
And I still have no idea who sent him, or where we’re going; where our final destination will be.
The first plane we board is going to Seoul, but I assume that’s just a layover. Which it is.
We spend about four hours in the Seoul airport, and even that is exciting for me because I’ve always wanted to travel here. I make sure to eat what I can stomach—fried chicken and kimchi. I love Korean food, but my appetite isn’t exactly flourishing.
“Eat as much as you can,” Sven gives another command while we sit in a booth at an airport restaurant. He slides me a bottle of Gatorade. “And drink. I’m assuming you’ve come down from excessive heroin use before?”
I swallow a gulp of delicious food that’s slowly losing its flavor. “Not really…”
He stares at me.
“This is the first time I’ve ever gone, like… nonstop.”
“Oh…” he rumbles, taking on an air of pity, though I can’t miss a subtle twinge of amusement in his eyes. “Well, buckle up. You’re in for a fun few days.”
My mood is plummeting fast. “I’ve only been using for three weeks straight,” I mutter, stubbornly refusing to take accountability for the situation I’ve put myself in. “And maybe three more weeks before that, on and off.”
Sven’s lips twitch. “I’m sure you’ll be fine then.”
Tosser.
Exhaustion is beginning to take over while I gaze out the window, wishing I could see something out there; anything in actual Seoul, other than the airport runways. But before I can wallow too much, it’s time to go.
Sven drags me to the gate, and we begin boarding our next flight… To JFK.
Fifteen hours.
That’s how long the flight is from Seoul to New York. Somehow the trip back to the States from Thailand seems epically longer and more insufferable than the trip there.
I sleep for the majority of it because, as much as I’d rejected the idea of withdrawal, my body is crashing. Still, every moment that I’m conscious is spent thinking, obsessing , over who could be responsible for this capture.
After all, it’s not as if I have rich parents who would send someone to drag me back and force me into rehab. I have no one. I know no one…
Well, maybe one person.
And… he does happen to live in New York now.
The more my hazy paranoia rushes over this, the more I attach to it, and the more I convince myself it’s true…
That Dr. Love is having me delivered to him.
I mean, that must be it. What other explanation could there be??
But now, the most significant question remains… What is he going to do with me when I get there?
A large black SUV picks us up at JFK, and we set off to yet another location. Nearly three hours in the car and we reach our next stop, which I’m assuming is also not our final destination, based on the fact that it appears to be a ferry dock.
When Sven exits the vehicle, I follow his lead and get out, stretching my arms and inhaling a deep pull of ocean air.
“Where the hell are we?” I ask, knowing bloody well no one will answer me.
“Alright…” Sven sighs as he nods at someone behind me. “This is where I leave you.”
“Wait… what? ” are the last words I get out before a bag is pulled over my head.
In an instant, I’m fighting, struggling against the hold of two men. They slap handcuffs on my wrists, and shackles on my ankles, dragging me a few feet then shoving me into the backseat of a different SUV.
“Oy! Sven! What the fuck is this?!” I shout, wiggling around while they slam the door. “I slept on your shoulder, you manky old fuck! And this is how you play me?? Ugh! ” I roar, breathing heavily, rage and a sense of betrayal weaving through me.
It’s not as if we became friends or anything. But still… He could have at least given me a heads-up.
The same bloke who made it his business to feed me so I didn’t get sick… Bloody bastard.
I can’t see shit. It’s all pitch black from the bag, but I can make out voices just outside the vehicle. Suddenly, the front doors open, and I hear people getting into the SUV and starting it up. Then we’re moving again.
“What the fuck is going on??” I growl, my limbs instantly growing tired from flailing around.
And the withdrawals are starting. Lovely.
They’re all still ignoring me, one of the new male voices speaking from the front seat, “Yari? Yea, lemme talk to El Jefe, por favor. Gracias .” He goes quiet for a moment while I struggle pointlessly. “Hey, boss. We got him. Si , he’s—”
I launch my foot forward, kicking the back of his seat.
“He’s alive and kickin’.” The man chuckles.
“I swear to God… No. I swear to Lucifer himself , I’m going to freak the fuck out if someone doesn’t tell me what’s going on right now! ” I holler.
“Shut the fuck up,” a different voice scolds from the driver’s seat.
“Uh-huh… sure,” the other bloke keeps speaking, I’m assuming to someone on the phone. “Your call. Okay, ten-four.”
Lying on my side on the leather, I’m defeated. My anger is fading into hopelessness, and it’s making me even more tired than I already was.
“Alright, fuckface,” the man says, tone much less professional when it’s for me.
“The boss wants me to tell you he’s looking forward to meeting you.
” I say nothing, and he barks, “ Escúchame , dipshit! I’m talking to you!
I’m gonna need some sign that you’re hearing me or you’ll get the taser, comprende ? ?”
“Who, me? ” I murmur, smirking beneath my bag.
He growls, “Yes, you , Monty Python. Jesus…”
“Ohh, sorry,” I croon. “I thought you were still on the phone.”
“Jefe is gonna cut out his tongue.” The driver chuckles.
“You better watch your tone with the boss,” the first bloke concurs. “You’re a special delivery. We all know what that means…”
“Clearly, I don’t,” I mutter. “Who’s your boss? Dr. Love…?”
“Who??” The driver grunts.
“What? No ,” the other one scoffs. “But funny you should mention him… I heard this is all his doing. You are his thank you gift, I think.”
My head is spinning off my body. “What the bloody hell are you talking about??”
“Yo, asshole… You got any idea where you’re off to?” the driver grumbles, voice more oafish than the other one.
“No. That tosser Sven wouldn’t tell me fuck-all. So if you lads have any insight to give, I’d be much obliged.”
The two of them are quiet for a moment before they burst into laughter.
“ Wow … alright then.” The passenger sighs out his amusement as the other adds, “He’s fucked .”
“Listen closely.” The main bloke continues. “You’re on your way to prison , boy.”
“Yea, but not just any prison…” the driver adds, putting in his commentary like a parrot on the first lad’s shoulder.
“No sense in sugar-coating it. It’s hell on earth. And once you shuffle your ass through those doors, you don’t ever come out, you got me?”
I’m breaking out in a cold sweat. I’d love to say it’s a symptom of coming down, but I think that’s currently playing second fiddle to my increasing state of panic.
“Bullshit.” I gulp. “They can’t just lock me up and throw away the key… This is America . Prisons have regulations and… whatnot.”
“What don’t you get about this ain’t no regular prison?” the deeper voice counters.
“It’s true. If you’re hoping some lawyer or judge… or Dr. Love will get you outta this, you’ll wanna redirect that mindset. Only way out is in a body bag.”
“Well, unless you’re—” The driver’s words are absorbed by a grunt.
The other man whispers a scolding, “ Callate, idiota !” Then he returns to me. “You see, the Warden asked for you by name. That’s never a good sign. Dr. Love sold you up the river without a paddle…”
“Without a goddamn boat …”
“Was probably a no-brainer for him. Anything to stay in the Warden’s good graces. And now, well… there’s no other way to put it, Brit boy. You’re fucked.”
“With a capital fucked .”
Shivering with rage and confusion, my fists ball behind my back. I can’t even fathom what I’m hearing. I don’t want to believe them… But then what would they get out of lying?
That’s why Sven wouldn’t tell me shit. That’s why we’ve been traveling for more than twenty-four hours, and why it feels like we’re on our way to another bloody planet right now.
A place with no federal regulations… A place you can’t ever leave.
I assumed Dr. Love would keep tabs on me from wherever he was… But as it turns out, he wasn’t the only one watching.
Closing my eyes, I give up the fight, physically and mentally. I’m tired of running… Honestly, I’m tired of breathing.
My soul is exhausted.
“So…” I gust, disparaged enough that even my snark feels weak. “What’s this prison called, anyway?”