Chapter 2
CHAPTER
TWO
Gretchen
Time has become… illusive. I manage to keep my mouth shut at first, but the day I see several of the people from the clinic being dragged in, I lose my shit, demanding to know what’s going on and why we’ve all been abducted.
Apparently, the minions who are in charge of the dirty work didn’t like that too much and before I know it, I have an IV in my arm pumping me full of drugs that have me not caring about my surroundings.
“Sixteen years,” I mumble, my sweat-soaked hair clinging to my face as tears continuously fall. “Down the fucking drain.”
“You’ll get it back,” Alfie whispers. “We all will, once someone realizes we’re missing and comes to find us, Gretchen.”
“I hope you’re right.”
I know I sound defeated, and I guess it’s because the guilt over being abducted is riding me hard, but so is whatever they’re shooting us up with.
I can tell when the bag is getting low and it’s almost time for another one to be placed because my body starts reacting as though I’m having a hypoglycemic episode—I get the sweats, nausea, and gnawing pain in my gut, as though I’m going into withdrawal or something.
Since my detox was done with medication, I had minimal side effects.
The ones I did have were monitored carefully, so what I’m experiencing now is unlike anything I’ve ever gone through before.
I don’t know how long I’ve been gone at this point, but my clothes hang on me and as disgusting as it sounds, I can smell myself thanks to the stress sweats.
What I wouldn’t give for a shower, a decent meal, and to get the hell out of here.
Sadly, outside of my coworkers and a few friends, I don’t really have anyone who will miss me.
Even if they did file a missing person report, with me being an adult, how much effort will go into finding me?
I know from my whispered talks with Alfie that most of the people in this place are without anyone who’ll care if they disappear.
“You know I am, Gretchen,” he insists. “The clinic is run by Dr. Brooks and he’s part of the Kings of Anarchy MC. Once he figures out that something’s going on, you know they’ll be looking, because nobody fucks with them.”
“Well, somebody has decided to,” I snark.
“Then they’ll pay with blood,” Alfie asserts.
“From your lips to God’s ears. Alfie, how long do you think I’ve been here now?” I ask.
“A few weeks at least, based on how you look,” he replies, his voice low.
“Guess I won’t win any pageants, huh?” I tease. I’m trying to distract myself because my skin is starting to itch and all I want to do is scratch my arms until they’re bleeding.
I know it’s the cocktail of drugs they’re giving me. I briefly wonder if I’ll ever be free of this monkey that was thrust on me. I’m trying to stay strong, but right now, I feel hopeless, as though every single thing I’ve worked for is gone.
“Sorry, Gretchen,” Alfie whispers. “Don’t think I can hold out much longer.”
“Alfie? What’s going on, what’s happening? Talk to me,” I demand.
“They gave me something different this time,” he mutters. “My heart is racing and I can’t catch my breath. I don’t think I’m gonna survive.”
Dammit! I’m restrained again since I attempted to escape the last time they left me unbound.
Otherwise, I could see if there was anything I could do to help him.
“Hang on, Alfie,” I plead. “And know this much, even if the worst-case scenario happens, until this shit, you were clean, okay? Promise me that you’ll remember that fact. You are a success story in my eyes.”
“No, I’m not, Gretchen. They got me hooked again. I’m what my family always said I was, worthless and no good.”
“That’s not true, Alfie,” I reply. “You went to meetings, you made your appointments for your medication and were about to go to an in-patient facility!”
“Yeah, it ain’t in the cards for me, apparently,” he mumbles, his words now sounding slurred. “Thanks for trying, Gretchen.”
“Alfie? Alfie! Answer me, please,” I demand.
Silence. As tears fall from my eyes and my heart shatters, I send up a silent prayer for him.
“We’re gonna have to move them soon,” a man’s voice states, pulling me from my drugged slumber. “Those fucking Kings have been nosing around, looking for some of them, especially her.”
I wonder if they’re talking about me, but instead of opening my eyes and asking, I continue to breathe evenly as though I’m still out of it. Maybe then I’ll find out what the hell is going on.
“Then maybe you should’ve found another source for getting these people,” a second voice says. “Grabbing them from meetings probably wasn’t your smartest idea.”
“Why the fuck not?” a third man asks. “Most of them are nobodies. They don’t have any family or friends left who’ll give the first fuck if they disappear. Besides, we can’t move them yet, the other location isn’t ready and we’re still waiting to hear back from the buyers.”
Buyers? Buyers of what? Us? My mind is whirling with so many questions, and I send up another prayer that if the Kings are looking for those of us who’ve gone missing, they’ll find us soon.
Because I know if someone’s buying us, it’s for nefarious purposes.
I may be an adult orphan now, but I do have some friends who’d miss me.
“Fuck, this one’s gone,” the third man growls out. Peering from underneath my lashes, I see him at the end of Alfie’s bed, and I barely resist flinching when he kicks the cot in anger.
“I just hung the shit you gave me,” the second guy says. “Maybe it was a bad mixture or something.”
“Check the others,” the third guy demands. “If we got a bad batch, we’ll lose more, and we can’t afford to start over again, especially with the Kings on our ass.”
Once again, time becomes irrelevant. Two others were found dead in their cots, so the three men made the decision to pull all of the bags from all of us.
Moaning, screaming, and crying now bounces off the walls as we each go through withdrawal.
I’m covered in sweat, salt, snot, and vomit, and feel so disgusting that if I could find something to slit my wrists, I’d do so.
Not because I’ve got suicidal tendencies, but because I can’t deal with myself in this condition any longer.
“Please, please find us,” I moan out as I try to curl into a fetal position.
As shivers wrack my body, my stomach churns again and I turn my head so I don’t choke on my own puke.
Not like there’s anything in my gut except for acidic bile, but my throat is already raw, and I don’t relish the thought of adding more pain to what I’m already dealing with at the present time.
A lot of noise and shouting has me wondering if my prayer was heard, especially when I hear Dr. Brooks yell, “Gretchen!” before I pass out.