16. Audrey
16
AUDREY
My eyes drooped as darkness filled the room. My hands were going numb from being tied to the chair and my feet had lost feeling long ago, along with my ass. I was beginning to think this was all they had in store for me.
Was this their version of torture? Could one actually die of boredom and a burning desire to pee? Seriously, I was desperate to use the bathroom, but not one of them would allow me to get up. The first guy watching me had left long ago, replaced by the smelly smoker who only sat in the corner and chain-smoked. The air was filled with a noxious odor, but that was really a blessing. It covered the terrible smell emanating from his body.
Still, even with all of that, I just couldn’t keep my eyes open any longer. I was exhausted, and my head was still pounding from the accident. Earlier, it had been easy to push it to the side. There was still a chance I could talk the first one into letting me use the bathroom. I had a purpose, a reason to forget that my head was killing me—along with various other parts of my body.
But that was no longer possible. Those blobs in my eyes had turned to full-on blackout at times, leaving me incapable of even seeing who was in the room. If I centered myself enough like Spencer taught me, I could get most of the headache to recede just enough so I could see a little more clearly. That wasn’t a long-term answer, though.
Craig still hadn’t come for me, but I wouldn’t lose hope. He was out there. He had to be. I knew it. I just had to ignore my bladder and the throbbing in my head.
But this bathroom shit…I grimaced as pain tore through my lower abdomen. Crap, I wasn’t going to last too much longer.
“What the fuck is your problem now?” the man snapped.
“Oh, I don’t know,” I said angrily. “Just the fact that I haven’t peed since I got here. I’m strapped to a chair, and I’m stuck in a room with a man who chain-smokes!” I shouted. “Did I mention that my bladder is about to give out?”
“Fuck, women are such a pain in the ass,” he grumbled, getting up from his chair.
Hope sparked in me as he walked my way. Was he actually going to let me out of my binds? I thought about making a move. Now was my chance, but honestly, I really had to pee and since I couldn’t exactly feel my hands and feet, now didn’t seem like the best time to try to escape.
The bonds were slowly worked free and tiny zaps fluttered under my skin. With each second that passed, it became a little more painful and a little less comforting. Still, relief was in sight. As soon as my feet were free, I pushed as best I could off the chair, wobbling on my feet. It was odd to try to walk when I couldn’t feel a damn thing.
The man grabbed me by the arm, dragging me through the house to the bathroom. I stumbled along behind him, just hoping to keep my feet under me for long enough to make it to the bathroom.
“You have two minutes,” he said, shoving me through the door.
I sighed in relief when the door shut and I could finally yank my pants down. Sitting on the toilet, I cried out. “Oh, thank God!”
“Hey!” he slammed his fist against the door. “No talking!”
Man, that guy was grouchy. I closed my eyes as I released my bladder. It felt like I peed forever, and when it was over, I didn’t want to leave. But I only had two minutes and I didn’t want to get caught with my pants down.
I quickly finished up just as he shoved the door open, nearly slamming it into my face. I stepped back and glowered at the man. “You know, a few manners would not be amiss.”
“Why would they be miss?”
I rolled my eyes at him and shoved my way past him. At least the feeling was back in my legs. “I don’t suppose you have anything I could eat. I’m a little starving.” I kept my hand on the wall for balance as I walked down the hall.
“Boss didn’t say anything about feeding you.”
“Did he say anything about letting me pee?” I asked over my shoulder.
“No.”
“But you let me do that. Wouldn’t it make sense that you feed me also?”
He thought about it for a second, and I knew he was going to turn me down. I could see it in his eyes. I couldn’t go back to that chair. Not yet. Not when I was just starting to feel somewhat human again.
“Please, just a piece of cheese would do.”
“You know, for a captive, you’re pretty demanding.”
“Demanding or wanting basic rights?”
“Captives don’t have rights. That’s sort of the point.”
“Look, I’ve been kidnapped like four times! I’ve been in a major accident. My body hurts. My head is pounding. Is it too much to ask for a fucking piece of cheese!”
An explosion ripped through the front of the house, tearing out the front wall. My body was thrown into my captor and against the wall. My head slammed against the wall, ringing my noggin for the second time in as many hours. Spots filled my vision once again and the aches I felt from earlier returned with a vengeance.
I peeled my eyes open, staring at my captor just inches from me as he tried in vain to push himself off the ground. I couldn’t blame him. I was feeling the same way at the moment. I shook my head, trying to catch a glimpse of whatever was happening in the distance, but all I saw were sparks and ash falling all around us as fire burned through the house.
Pushing up, I started coughing as I inhaled too much smoke and a hell of a lot of crap floating through the air. Arms grabbed at me, locking me down, but I’d had enough of this shit. I wasn’t about to let anyone jerk me around anymore.
With a shout, I rammed my elbow back into the man’s gut, then spun and swung my leg out. The fight scene from my last movie flitted through my head and I quickly followed the series of kicks and strikes the stunt coordinator taught me. But none of them worked and I couldn’t figure out why. They worked so damn well in the film.
I went through the series of kicks again as the man continued to stare at me. What the hell was his problem? And why wasn’t this working?