Snatched (7 page)

Was that the plan? Was he going to help her get out of here? She was afraid to ask because her soul would die if he said no.

He walked over to the chair, dragged it around to its back and straddled it facing her. He stared at her but she got the feeling that
he wasn't so much staring at her but rather through her, his mind somewhere else.

The loud music made it near
ly
impossible
to have a conversation,
or just
to ask him
simple
questions. Not from this distance
anyway
.
As she rose from the bed
, he immediately gave her a look of
irritation
. After all, he was supposed to be abusing her. Anything she did could give them away
that things were not as they appeared
.
She
stopped
in front of him
forcing him to look
up at her.

"Are you going to get me out of here?" she mouthed silently. He didn't answer and she thought maybe he couldn't read her lips. She bent and brought her lips near his ears to repeat the question.

She stood again, expecting some kind of answer, any answer. Instead he gave her the same blank look. At that moment she wanted to slap him.

He pointed to the bed, indicating that she should take her seat. She refused.

He knocked the chair over as he
jerked
up
, grabbed her by the arm
to propel
her to the bed,
then
pushed her down in
to her previous seated
position.

He bent toward her, spoke into her ear. "Don't be stupid. We've got maybe an hour here. You're just going to have to bide the time. And do as I tell you, exactly as I tell you."

She stared up at him, nodded again.

The next hour was an exercise in patience and fear. At intervals, he would walk over to her instructing her to yell out, to plead
for mercy
.
At other moments, h
e kicked over the chair
and manually
bounced the
bed
springs
for effect
.

Her stomach turned at what she knew the men and women outside were thinking.
H
ow they would look at her after.
Not that she should care. They were all animals, even the women. Especially the women as they were traitors as far as she was concerned
,
allowing a supposed rape to happen without any protest.

But
still after all of this she
would be alive.
If she was lucky.

After
just over an
hour
had passed
, he
suddenly
grabbed her t-shirt, rent it
so that most of her bra was exposed
.
His
motion
was
done with liquid speed that
she didn't have time
to
protest
.

H
e un
buckled his jeans then
pulled her up
, pushed her toward the door.
He o
pened it.

Many
of the chairs were empty
now
, their occupants somewhere unknown. She made sure to look stricken, upset.

She heard the familiar voice before she looked over.

"Must be taking Viagra bro," the leader said as he took in the two. He was still seated in his overstuffed chair
but without his blond drapery
. There were two, three men on a couch she hadn't noticed before facing the HD TV.
The few women were gone.

Although she tried not to look directly at any of them, s
he could
feel
the men leering
at her,
could feel their eyes
looking
over
the "damage"
their friend had done
.
And t
hey obviously approved. One of them snickered.

"I'm headed out," her "captor" told the other man. "I'm taking her with me."

"Why?" the leader demanded. "You already had your turn."

Nailah's stomach
roil
ed at the thought that he might turn his back on her, leave her to the fate of the bikers.

Instead he said, "I'm not finished. After all, it was me she insulted. She hasn't paid her
debt…not by a long shot
."

Her fate lay with the leader's dictate. She knew instinctively if he said no, there would be nothing anyone could do to help her, especially the one trying to save her. She wanted to look directly at the leader, decided against it.

Her sigh of relief was nearly audible when she heard him say, "OK."

But the
capitulation
came with a
deadly
caveat.

"Don't try any Sir Galahad moves
dog.
In other words, s
he better be with you tomorrow
or else
.
She knows too damn much as it is.
"

Her capto
r grabbed her, pushed
her ahead of him to the back door where they had first entered. She didn't say anything as he indicated that she take her position on his bike.
He took time to buckle his jeans again.

Only when he was seated in front of her did she dare to ask, "What now?"

He ignored her again as he started the bike. She held tightly as the bike jerked forward then smoothed out before gathering a breathtaking speed.

She didn't know where he was taking her but somehow she had to get away from him. Then
she'd
find the
nearest
police
station and end this nightmare
.

Years ago while visiting her grandmother
during a summer
in New O
rleans,
Nailah had
snuck out of her Gram
's shotgun shack
one late afternoon
and headed over to the ba
you to catch some crawfish
.
She'd done t
his against her grandmother's expressed order to stay
indoors that day
. But Nailah had
defied her grandmother, thinking that once she brought home all
of
that succulent
crawfish her grandmother would forgive her
disobedience
.
At least this time
,
anyway.

But i
nstead
of
catching
crawfish, Nailah
nearly
caught the teeth of a gator
in her
ass
.
The predator had
hidden
near the base of a
cluster of
bald cypresses
and had broken through the low hanging branches, rushing at her
. She'd
temporarily
stood frozen
, the shock
holding her in place.
Then
the gator
snapped
its teeth as it continued its beeline in her direction
. The sound of the snapping teeth, the imagined feel of
those
teeth in her flesh, brought her out of her temporary stupor and she'd run like she'd never run before.
But the gator was quick and she could hear it purs
u
ing her, snapping at her all the way, at times making a hideous grunting sound.

Somehow she made it to the nearby road and as luck would have it,
Mrs. Moore, her grandmother's neighbor,
happened to be driving by and stopped her car to let Nailah in.
After the neighbor brought her home, her Gram had lit into her with a sharp tongue and an even sharper belt.

Even then she had a way of getting herself into trouble. And an equally resilient way of getting herself out.

She
prayed
for some of t
hat resilience right now as her kidnapper brought
the bike to a stop in some low-
budget motel parking lot.
D
oors fronted the lot, providing
guests direct
entrance
to rooms
without having to go through a common lobby. It was early evening and only a few cars were parked in the lot. Still, if she screamed now maybe
someone would look out a window, see her distress and call the police.

"If you're thinking of making a move, don't," he said,
evidently
guessing her thought as he
knelt to secure
the bike, his back to her. Then he
stood and
turned to face her.

"If you try to run, I'll simply catch you. If you try to call the police, I'll know it."

She looked at him resentfully but said nothing.

"
Look, I
need
you
to stay cool, at least for a day or two.
And then I'll
try to
get you out of this mess. If you try anything before that, we're both in
a lot of
shit.
"

A day or two? God, she couldn't bide this situation even one or two minutes
more
, let alone days.

"Why do you have to keep me that long?
Why can't you let me go now?
"

"Because I don't like the idea of a knife in my gut
which is what will happen if I let you go now
. You can give me looks all you want but lady I didn't get you in this mess.
That's all on you.
As a matter of fact, you should be thanking me
for getting you this far without a bullet in the head
."

"I'll thank you in spirit when I'm safe in my own home, far away from you and your buddies."

She hadn't expected the smile. It lessened the menace in his face, humanized him a bit.
Then he shook his head.

"L
et's get inside. That ripped shirt's gonna get too much attention.
"

He took her arm, guided her through the door.

Another dismal room, but this one a little neater and less funky than the other one back at that shit hovel.
At least the bed was made.

He indicated the only chair in the room and she walked over, sat down.

"I'm sorry the guest quarters aren't more to your liking, but hostage situations are usually less than optimal."

"'Optimal?' Big word
. 
M
ust've read a dictionary
once in your life
."

She didn't know why she was being so mean-spirited. He was trying to help her. But then again, she had a right to cop an attitude. She was effectively a kidnap victim and he might turn on her any minute.

A
sof
t
throaty
laugh this time. S
trangely, s
he liked the sound of it.
He took off his denim jacket, tossed it on the floor.

"Witty. You must be the life of
all
those snooty cheese and wine parties
you attend
," he said as he
settled on the edge of the bed, spread his jean clad legs.

"I don't go to wine and cheese parties."

"No? You look like you'd fit in well at one of those. Dressed up with makeup."

"Are we actually having a get-to-know-you conversation? You're holding me against my will."

"Only because you threw a piece of meat at me.
God! What
was
up
with the rib?"

"You and your pals almost ran me over! I had the light and you made me drop my lunch."

"Shit, all of this for a rib lunch
?
OK lady,
let me
personally
apologize for my friends' propensity not
to
follow the rules of the road. They tend to
be
resist
ant to
authoritarian
laws
."

"Oh, more big words.
You m
ust've done
a lot of
studying
with cue cards.
I'm surprised you could find time
between the rapes and murders you
probably pulled
."