Chapter 2
Indigo
The passage of time could get a little wonky when you had a concussion.
My double vision had passed, as evidenced by the solitary Bones sitting across from me.
Our twatwaffle captors had zip-tied my hands behind my back before dumping us inside the Dairy Queen storage room.
Or maybe it was a pantry? I wasn’t sure, but I had more important things to worry about.
Like… how long had Bones and I been locked in the trunk of their car?
How far away from Sagebrush was Satan’s DQ?
Was the soft serve machine operational, and if so, could I have some?
I pondered these questions every time I woke from a doze, mouth dry and head fuzzy.
Plus, I was super bored. I’d said it once, and unfortunately I’d probably say it many more times if my past luck was any indicator: the worst part about captivity was the insufferable boredom.
Bones’s big booted foot nudged my smaller one, drawing my eyes to his bruised and swollen face.
“Try to stay awake, chica loca.” Bones wasn’t looking much better than I was feeling.
Long jeans-clad legs sprawled before him, and arms secured with zip ties to the leg of the shelf behind him, Bones sat slumped to one side.
Unfortunately, the legs of the shelf were bolted to the floor, so he wasn’t going anywhere soon.
Bones shifted gingerly to find a more comfortable position for his arm, which had been injured during the fight for our lives back on the Crow’s compound.
Based on the pinched expression of pain in his dark eyes and the clammy sheen to his olive skin, I’d say he wasn’t having much luck getting comfy.
Now it was my turn to nudge my foot against his. “Don’t you dare puke in here, Bones. If you do it, I’ll do it too. Please don’t make me see your heave face.”
A weak chuckle escaped Bones’s lips. “Nah, I’m good.
” I mean…he didn’t look good, but I was too much of a gentlelady to say it out loud.
Bob knows I’ve looked way worse. Ignoring the pounding feeling in my head, I began to rock back and forth, wiggling my bound hands until I could slide them under my bottom.
Pulling my legs through my arms, I smiled.
My hands were still bound, but now they were in front of me.
That was called progress. In shitty situations, sometimes you had to take the small wins where you could.
If you didn’t celebrate the small victories in life, you might never get the chance to celebrate any kind of victory. Take the W.
I rose to stand slowly so as not to tempt the concussion gods.
Scanning the shelves lining the walls, I searched for anything even remotely resembling a weapon.
Preferably an edged one, so I can stab Pyro in the neck and cut through our binds, but I wasn’t picky.
I’d weaponize a spatula right now if I could.
My eyes darted around desperately. I had to get us out of here before we were moved again, or the guys holding us got bored and decided to entertain themselves with us.
My search was futile. I couldn’t find anything useful.
Voices from outside our closet approached, getting louder, and Bones shot me a panicked look.
I quickly hopped through my clasped arms like I was jumping rope and threw myself back down where they’d left me.
The action made my head swim, and I leaned to the side to barf right as the storeroom door opened.
I’d have to apologize for showing Bones my heave if we survived the night.
Pyro walked into the pantry holding a phone up like he was recording, with two of the three men who’d helped him kidnap us at his back.
“Fucking pathetic,” he sneered at me as I did my best to wipe vomit from my chin using my shoulder. I opened my mouth to snark a reply when a sinister voice, one I’d hoped I’d never hear again, spoke through the phone.
“Turn the camera around.” Sadistic pleasure slithered like a viper through Pyro’s poopy-colored eyes as he turned the entire phone around so I could see the face of the devil, and he could see me.
The little image of me in a box at the top right corner of the screen looked haunted, and I tried to stare into her horrified eyes instead of looking into the face of the man who’d terrorized me for as long as I could remember.
Uncle Roark. My efforts to avoid the Beast of Boston were wasted, however, the moment he spoke to me.
“I’ve missed you, girl. You’ve been very, very naughty,” Uncle Roark rasped.
I kept my eyes averted as I shook. “LOOK AT ME!” His guttural bellow made me jump, and my eyes instantly snapped to his.
I despised my weakness at that moment. The way my body had been conditioned to obey him felt like a betrayal.
If any other person on the planet tried to fuck with me, I’d be strong enough to handle it.
I was a big girl, and I could and would take care of myself.
But one word from the bastard radiating brutality through an iPhone screen stripped away every layer of myself that I’d built over the past few years.
I was back to being the terrified, terrorized, traumatized vessel Uncle Roark had molded me into.
I just sat there, afraid and ashamed of my inability to stand up to that man, even if it was only over the phone.
Hazel eyes with a ring of rusty brown around the iris met mine and were filled with perverse satisfaction at the sight of me.
Most people would see a plain, average white male when looking at Uncle Roark.
His looks were boring in their beigeness.
His body wasn’t anything exceptional to look at, with no oddities or malformations marking him outwardly as a monster.
With his average looks, he could easily blend in anywhere.
That was what made him so scary. On the surface, he was unassuming and unthreatening.
The kind of man you could meet and immediately forget about. Unremarkable. But I knew better.
A wolfish grin spread across the face that haunted my nightmares, and it took all the strength I possessed not to throw up whatever was left in my stomach.
His eyes burned with a zealous fervor, and with one look, he promised me unimaginable pain.
A whimper escaped me, and Uncle Roark closed his eyes and breathed deeply like he was savoring the sound.
Turning the screen back to himself, Pyro snickered.
“Finally, the mouthy bitch ain’t got nothing to say.
Miracles never cease. So you’ve seen her. When can I expect payout?”
“Half once I speak to your prez,” Uncle Roark bit out, probably irritated at Pyro’s lack of respect, “and the other half upon delivery.”
Pyro nodded, expression contemplative. “It’ll take a few days to get her to Boston by road.
Unless you’d like to send a plane for her?
” Of course, I scoffed internally, Pyro was a lazy-ass excuse for a kidnapper.
He wanted to collect his bounty without having to deal with the tedious aspects of transporting an unwilling victim.
And I would be. Very unwilling. I’d rather catapult myself into the sun than ever be subjected to Uncle Roark again.
Apparently, Uncle Roark wasn’t impressed with the wankstain, either. “The onus of transport is on you. Have her here in three days or our arrangement will expire, and I’ll be forced to make a grisly example of you.”
Pyro nodded, swallowing roughly. “I’ll get her there.”
“Oh,” Uncle Roark added in a tone that probably sounded nonchalant to Pyro, but the hairs on my arms stood on end because I could tell he was chalant as fuck. “The man she was with. I want him, too. Alive.”
Balls.
Pyro and his band of bastards let the storeroom door slam behind them as they left, discussing their plans for our upcoming road trip.
I allowed myself the time it took to hum “9 to 5” by Our Lady of Backwoods Glam Dolly Parton to calm my trembling.
Dolly was one resilient lady, and her boss babe song helped me calm and center myself.
Now that the shock had worn off, I was ready to kick names and take ass.
I shimmied my arms down around my bottom again and slowly pulled my legs through, wincing at the pull in my shoulders. Standing, I realized Bones was speaking to me. I shushed Dolly (respectfully) in my head. “Sorry, Bones, could you repeat everything you just said? Dolly was being loud.”
“I need you to focus, Indigo!” Bones snapped.
I used my teeth to cinch the zip tie as tight as I could and raised my hands behind my head until my elbows were level with my ears.
If I flapped my arms right now, I’d look like a flying head, a thought that almost made me smile.
Thankfully, I caught it and kept my serious face on so Bones wouldn't have a hissy fit.
Moving quickly, I brought my fists over my head and down toward my stomach, snapping the ties binding my wrists together. Easy peasy.
Bones didn’t need to tell me to focus. The shock of seeing Uncle Roark again had washed away, leaving me with a solitary drive: escape.
I had to get Bones and me out of here because Uncle Roark would kill Bones just like he did Shade if I didn’t protect him.
I walked to the door and pressed my ear to it, listening for our captors.
I couldn’t tell what they were saying, but I did hear the warped sound of the dying door chime.
“Okay, Bones, I’m going to go kill those guys real quick, and then I’ll come back and help you get free. Be right back.”
“Indi—” Bones hissed, pushing himself upright and pulling against his ties. I shushed him and gave him a thumbs-up.