Chapter 38
Trent
My phone rings as I’m walking back to my dorm after a study session. It’s the local police number, so I answer it. I’ve already talked to the detective today, but I’m not surprised that they might have thought of a follow up question.
Answering it, I veer toward a bench. “This is Trent.”
“Trent, it's Detective Schalk. I have an update for you, because you need to keep your eyes up and be vigilant. The man who shot Luis has a sick child in the custody of his ex-wife. That child’s hospital bills have been paid off by an anonymous donor. We’re working on getting a court order for the records, but right now we’re theorizing that he was paid to shoot you. ”
That’s not at all what I expected to hear. I plop onto the bench and look out over the promenade. “I see. So should I be looking for something specific?”
“Just make a note of people that you see in places that they shouldn’t be or strangers that you see in the places you frequent.”
“Detective, I live and work on a university campus. It’s not even that big of a university.
I know the faces of strangers because I pass them by every day.
We work in the library together or eat in the same cafeteria.
I don’t think I would recognize a stranger out of place even if I am looking for it. ”
“Trust your gut, Trent. That’s what I’m advising Magnus to do, too. Trust your gut, because it’s better to be safe than sorry.”
I sigh and let out a slow breath. “I’ll do my best.”
“That’s good enough.”
I thank the detective and hang up, immediately pulling up the text thread to Magnus.
I got a message from him earlier that he’d received another phone from the stalker they think lives on campus, and when the police opened the box up and turned on the phone, a series of laughing emojis came through as text messages.
It was just a prank to waste everyone’s time.
Considering how much a semester at this university costs, it’s the most expensive prank I’ve ever heard of.
The police don’t know who sent the phone, and the guy who delivered it said he got it in his PO Box with a list of instructions.
That list was burned, as per the instructions.
He got his payment, though. I don’t know if the police are going to seize the funds because they’re evidence in an on-going investigation or if the guy’s going to get to keep it.
Magnus would probably want him to keep the funds. Afterall, he did a job and he earned the money according to the contract of the job.
“Sup,” a guy says as he sits next to me. He’s one of the non-traditional students. He pulls up his phone and taps a few things on it as he holds up a vape. “You mind?” he asks.
“Go for it.” I don’t care. People can do what they want, and that shit isn’t second-hand smoke, so it’s fine as far as I’m concerned. Maybe in a few years we’ll find out that it’s bad like smoke, but I doubt it. There’s not enough research into it yet, but there will be eventually.
He sits there and vapes for a few minutes while I decide if I want to go back to the dorm or wait for Magnus. He’s probably only got another twenty minutes before he’ll be done with his lecture, and we can walk back to the dorm together.
While I’m deciding, the guy next to me leans over, showing me his phone. “You’re that guy, right?”
It’s a screenshot from one of our videos, and it’s both of us.
“Yeah, that’s me,” I confirm.
“Big fan of Magnus,” he tells me, weirdly serious.
I move away, pushing to stand, but he hits me with the base of his vape in the chest, and a sting like I’ve just been stabbed with a needle makes me flinch backward.
He follows my movement until my back hits the bench, and I grab his arm to remove it.
The dude is stronger than he looks, and he leans in with a chilling expression of fury. “I told you not to touch him.”
I swallow as my body slowly stops responding to my struggle against his attack. Stars dance in my vision, and then confusion sets in. Something’s wrong with me. I hope it’s not….
***
My ears are ringing, and that’s the strangest thing to ever wake me up. I’ve lived with Magnus for nearly two years, and the ringing in my ears is weirder than him shaking me awake in the middle of finals week to ask me about platypuses.
My arms hurt, and I try to move them into a more comfortable position, but…
Oh fuck.
I force my heavy eyes to open as my body comes awake, screaming in pain.
I lift my head, looking up at where my hands are tied above me.
My feet barely touch the floor, but I force them to take the weight of my body off my shoulders.
Everything screams in pain. I’m freezing—naked, I discover, and as I blink and my eyes start to regain focus, I notice another figure hanging opposite me.
For a second I think it’s Magnus, and panic dumps adrenalin into my system, waking me up faster. Then I realize that the guy hanging opposite me is bigger than my boyfriend by a bit, and the bandage on his side makes me think I’m looking at Luis.
What the fuck?
I glance around as Luis moans softly. We’re in what looks like a rundown barn.
There are holes in the walls and the roof that are letting in the light of the morning.
I assume it’s morning. No wonder I’m freezing.
Naked overnight in a barn in April. I’m surprised we’re not suffering hypothermia.
Well, Luis might be. I’m cold, but the longer I’m awake the clearer my head gets, so I’m not suffering the brain fog associated with that condition.
Luis moans again, jerking and then pushing up on his feet as his head comes up. His unfocused gaze doesn’t register anything he’s seeing until he looks up his arms, discovering his predicament.
I follow his eyes up to the hook he’s hanging on.
It’s attached to a wooden beam above; the same one I appear to be attached to.
We’re tied from our wrists and hang from a rope.
The knot is complex, but it’s probably designed to cause less damage than other ways we could have been tied up. Still not comfortable.
Eventually, Luis wakes up enough to see me. Confusion crosses his features when he does. “What the fuck?” he rasps, staring at me with as much bafflement as I have about this situation.
“Some guy in his late twenties, bald, white, round glasses, tall and strong, injected me with something from his vape pen.” At least my memory from before is intact.
Luis takes a minute to digest that, then blinks a couple of times. “Same. He told me—” he stops talking, closing his mouth suddenly.
That’s an interesting reaction. “What did he tell you?” I remember what he told me, and there’s no way that Magnus let Luis touch him the way I’ve been touching him.
Luis grimaces. “It was just a prank,” he starts, looking away from me.
“Ok, it wasn’t really a prank, but Magnus is a fucking asshole, and I’m tired of watching him get away with whatever he decides to do.
There are ethical standards for faculty, and being a porn creator should be a violation of those ethical standards.
The only reason he keeps getting away with shit is because he’s got rich people who like him. ”
That’s a long rant.
“What the fuck, Luis? Did you put that image up in his class?” That's the only explanation for what I’m hearing right now.
Luis jerks, angrily this time. “Yes, of course I did. He should be dismissed for making porn while he’s teaching. He has students subscribed to your account. Faculty even. He’s making a mockery of the university, and he should be ashamed of himself, not lauded as a leader in progressivism.”
My eye twitches as I suppress the anger rising up in me.
I’d already written him off as an asshole, but this is way out of line.
Obviously we’re in a predicament together, so I take a breath and keep my head level.
We need to get out of here, and our chances of survival increase if we’re working together.
“Listen to me, Luis. You're an asshole for what you’ve done, but being an asshole shouldn’t be a death sentence. We need to work together to get out of here, agreed?”
Luis blinks as if he’s just now realizing that we’re in mortal danger right now. “Yeah, agreed. Sorry.”
“I’m not taking apologies from assholes who’re trying to ruin my boyfriend’s career,” I inform him levelly. “The only goal here is to work together to not die because some guy is obsessed with Magnus, right?”
Luis gulps and nods. “Yeah, yeah. Of course.”
I shake my head at him, baffled that he would take Magnus’ life choices so personally. “Why the fuck did you follow us to Cancun?”
Luis looks up at the knot and hook above his head. “It doesn’t matter.”
The barn door creaks open, and we both swivel toward it. The guy who abducted us struts into the barn with a tool box in one hand and a lunchbox in the other.
Dread hollows out my chest as I eye him, trepidation making me want to back away.
He sets his things on a makeshift table made of two sawhorses and a plywood board, then he opens the lunch box and digs out a sandwich, shoving a corner of it into his mouth, chewing as he glares at us.
The fury is still there in his eyes. I don’t care what it takes, that guy is not touching me again.
“Please don’t,” Luis begs, and I want to tell him to shut up, but my brain refuses to let me bring attention to myself right now.
The guy’s glare lands on Luis. He sets his sandwich down and picks up a heavy looking hammer from his toolbox. “You shouldn’t have fucked with Magnus,” he growls, stalking over to Luis.
Luis kicks at him, but the guy catches his foot and swings him away. He raises the hammer and hits him in the ribs while his back is turned. The crack of bone punctuates the scream it rips out of him.
“Stop!” I yell, suddenly finding my voice. Shit. Fuck!
He turns toward me, rage burning in his face. “I’m going to pull your intestines out of you!” he screams, charging toward me.
I pull up, horse kicking him. He loses his balance and hits the floor with his ass, but he jumps up immediately and runs at me again.
I don’t think another horse kick is going to work, and I start to panic, certain I’m about to find out what my insides look like.
I raise a foot, but I saw him spin Luis away, so instead of kicking, I pull myself up as high as I can, catching him between my thighs.
His confusion gives me a second to use his body to get my legs higher and I get my thighs around his head.
I don’t know what I’m going to do with this, but I lock in, promising myself that no matter what he does with that hammer, letting him go means death, so I won’t.
He struggles against my hold and hits me with the hammer, but he doesn’t have a good aim, and he starts jerking erratically.
I hold on because my life depends on it and take hit after hit with that fucking hammer.
He gets me in the back, causing a lance of pain to shoot through me like he just stabbed me.
I jerk, screaming in an effort to focus that pain into holding his head even tighter.
He throws himself to the side with all his might, but I’m stronger than that, and my hold doesn’t waver.
He loses his footing and a pop vibrates through my legs accompanied by the sickening sound of a bone breaking.
A moment later, he goes limp, dragging me down to the full extension of my arms again.
My stomach revolts against what I think just happened, but fear keeps my legs locked with the man collapsed at an unnatural angle beneath me.
Panting, I swallow the bile that wants to come up.
If I throw up I’ll lose my grip on him, and what if this is just an act.
What if he’s just faking it? He’s got to be faking it. He’s got to be. He’s going to kill us.
He’s going to kill us.
He’s going to kill us.
He’s going to kill us!