Snatched (6 page)

"You want to live, you shut the fuck up. You don't say shit
, don't try shit. Don't even
look
at
anyone.
Just be a good girl.
"

He saw the
fear in her eyes.
And
a whole lot of
anger. The two
were warring with each other b
ut in
the end, she nodded her assent as he helped her off the bike.

A sense of relief was only temporary as Rez headed toward them, surrounded by the crew. Expectation was
rife in the air.
They were obviously glad to have s
ome new entertainment to lighten up what would have been an ordinary afternoon.

Rez
walked up to
Dele and smiled as he pulled his
Bowie
k
nife from his jeans pocket. The gang leader
stretched
out
a
hand to pass the weapon to Dele. Dele shook his head.

"
No."

"No
! W
haddya mean no
!
?
You do what I say
or I'll take you down right now!
"

Dele smiled. "I
've
got other plans
for her
."

Dele held his breath as Rez gave the woman the once over.
Thankfully the woman was
smart for this once
and
averted her eyes
from the gang
leader
. Her demure stance brought a smile to Rez's face. He liked it when women showed fear, showed they knew their place in this world.

"
Since it was me she dissed, I should
be the one
to decide what retribution
I get.
"
In a sudden motion, h
e grabbed her around the waist, pulled her to him. He was actually glad when she tried to shove him off; her visible resistance added to the
drama, made it likely that Rez would let Dele "keep" her
.

The seconds seemed
to trail forever
as the bikers
stood waiting
on Rez's answer.
No one was going inside until then. After a few more minutes,
Rez
nodded
.
But the smile turn
ed
into something hard
.

"
OK, yeah
. But
Dele,
y
ou
better
keep
this
bitch under control or
you're gonna be facing more trouble than a little bit
.
Don't forget
man, yo
u
already in a whole lot of shit. Wouldn't be healthy to
waddle in it
."

Rez walked up to Dele until their faces were inches apart
, although the gang leader was a few inches shorter than Dele
.
He
said softly, deadly,
"Find that
stash man and
you'll be
real good
with me
. And
it'll be
real healthy for you
, too
.
If not man
, when you're gone, she'll
be keeping you company
. Or…maybe
I'll let her live
long enough to
have some fun with her. That is, until
I
finally
slit her throat
."

With those words
, Rez walked up
the
rickety porch
leading
into the house. The other bikers
strolled past
Dele
, laughing
and murmuring among themselves
. Skeet paused in front of
the woman, leered and
winked at her.

After a minute
it was just the two of them
left
in the yard.

Dele
turned to face her.

"Make this look good," he ordered then grabbed her by the back of her head, forced a kiss. When he let her go, she reached a hand to slap him. He grabbed her wrist, held it. Actually, that had been the response he'd hoped for when making his move. Anyone looking out at them would buy into the scenario he'd set up.
It was all for show.

He looked at her angry face. It was a beautiful face, in fact.
Too bad
t
he
y
'd met under less than optimal circumstances.
In another lifetime, he might have bumped into her, fed her a line, offered to buy her a drink. Instead, they were here and
he had a job to do.

"
OK, listen to me.
You want to live, then we both have to a role to play
here
. I'm the bad gangsta, and you're going to be my bitch."

"Let go of me," she
answered
, a threat behind each
enunciated
word. He hesitated, then took the chance
and released
her wrist. She promptly wiped her mouth with the back of her hand.
Then
contemptuously
spat
just
to the side
of him
.

He ignored it. "This is what's going to happen right now. I'm going to take you inside the house and lead you through the pack of wolves to a little room just off the front. I'm going to shut the door.
And then you're going to do what I say.
"

"I'm not doing fuck!"
she spat at him.

"Yeah, we'll see," he said
. The fire in those eyes now had burnt away
any trace
of fear.
If she kept up like this
, s
he
probably wouldn't
survive the night.
Rez would see to that.

He grabbed her by her upper arm, began pushing her toward the stairs. She resisted at first, but then seemed to accept her fate as she allowed him to steer her into the house.
He moved her through the small dirty kitchen,
past a
dining area
full of chairs around a rickety table,
straight into the living room.
The guys had taken up their usual stations around the room. Several couches and chairs had bodies strewn around as their "ladies" had taken up their usual positions draping and coddling the dudes. The smell of weed was already toxic in the air
. So was the smell of beer and whiskey that intermingled with the musk of unwashed bodies.

Rez was
straddled
in an old overstuffed chair
that reared the
space
separating
the living room from
the open dining room
.
Clare
was
on his lap
, an arm wrapped around his neck
.
When Dele had passed through the
dining area
he had given a side glance to
Skeet
occupying
one of the
chairs and
pulling at a reluctant
Carolyn, trying to get her on his lap
.
Her face had temporarily
brightened as Dele passed her -
that is until she got a look at his "hostage."

Right now a
skin
s
game was playing on a high-definition television set into the wall. The
TV was the
only
hi
gh
-end piece of
furniture
in the
whole house
.
The game
was a square off between the Packers and the
Jacksonville
Jaguars
.

Clare straightened
up on
Rez's lap
as she finally noticed the woman.

"What's this
black bitch doing here?!"

Both
Clare and Carolyn
skewered the
woman
with
eye
daggers
meant to
destroy
,
mutilate and
slaughter
. But then both women
had
often made a play for
Dele's attention and resented anyone poaching on their territory.
The other chicks mimicked the hard, unwelcoming stares.

"Dele caught himself a little play toy…for now," Rez said, holding Dele in a stare before taking a swig from his can of beer.

"I'm going to be a little busy," Dele said wryly as he maneuvered the woman to the bedroom off the
main
area
. A chorus of hoots and "yeahs" went up as he pushed her into the room and shut the door behind them.

Inside was an unmade
king-sized
bed, a scratched up dresser with some used paraphernalia scattered on top (most likely Roach's), a
chair at a table with an old standard radio. Dele walked over, turning the radio at full blast. The noise was meant to muffle any screams.

At least that's what he wanted the crew to think. Sure enough, more laughter
erupted outside as the gang members probably joked about
what was
supposedly
happening behind the closed door.

He turned and looked at her stricken face. Then
walked to her and
asked a question
into her ear
.

"Am I a good actress?! Are you kidding me? You k
idnap me and I'm supposed to help you
…"

He squashed
Nailah
's
tirade
with a hand over her mouth.
She felt his calluses against her skin.

"Do you
want
to die?" he
raged
into her ear
, his breath a hot blast.

"
You're facing two possibilities," he continued, taking his hand from her mouth.
"Immediate d
eath or life being used like a rag
until they decide they're through with you.
And then you die.
That'
s
your future, that is,
unless you co
-operate
with me
.
Since
you're the one
who
got
her
ass in
this
situation
in the first place, you should be thanking my ass for even helping you."

Nailah looked u
p at him resentfully, a
lthough the resentment was
mostly
for herself because
in the end
he was right. Her own stupid action had gotten her into this mess, not him.

"So what do you want me to do?" she asked, resigned to her present predicament and willing to do what she needed to get out of it.

"I need you to scream," he said so matter-of-factly
that he might as well have
been announcing
that it was raining outside.

"Scream…?"

"Yes, scream. Now!"

She nodded then opened her mouth to scream. And nothing. The sound got squelched somewhere in her larynx. Obviously she didn't know how to deliberately produce the sound…

Then he grabbed
her, a fierce look on his face a
s though he was going to do something to her.

Her reflex wrenched the scream from her throat.

The quick morph of his face from anger to a relaxed expression clued her that he had only been acting. He'd deliberately frightened her to get the response he'd wanted.

Outside in the living room she heard another chorus of "yeahs" that chilled her blood.

"Get
her Dele!" a male voice yelled out
.

She was in hell surrounded by a
horde
of demons and cretins. The only
seeming
human was the man
standing
in front of her.

He pointed to the bed and she immediately wondered whether her assessment was wrong. But then he mouthed "sit down."

The music blared. The room smelled of human musk and sex. Her skin crawled at the dirtiness of the room
as she sat down on a bed with obviously soiled sheets
.
All of her senses hurt. And then there was the fear, the mind-numbing, mouth-drying terror as she pondered how she was going to get through the minutes or hours before she could escape.