I squeeze myself in a corner of the van, hoping for Keith and Merida to realize I’m missing before it’s too late.
The van soon stops outside an abandoned warehouse. I was so scared about the man sitting next to me, that I didn’t pay any attention to where they were taking me. Not so sensible, I realize now.
The older man opens the door and I’m pulled out, which thankfully puts some distance between me and the younger guy. But it doesn’t help much as I’m immediately dragged inside the building where there are some broken chairs randomly thrown around. A few rusted tables barely holding their weight. Empty liquor bottles littering the ground.
The older guy throws me in one of the chairs before making a beeline to the corner table, which looks like a poor man’s bar. He takes a long gulp before barking an order at his partner.
My whole body turns ice cold when I notice the younger man approaching me with a nylon rope in his hands. He throws me a sleazy smile, and minutes later I feel him behind me.
He pulls my hands back with force before tying them together. My entire body freezes when he brings my cuffed hands over his thighs and slides them up until they reach his dick. Hot tears of disgust run down my taped cheeks.
My heart hammers when he crouches down in front of me and pushes apart my ankles. He ties each of my feet to the legs of the chair, and when he grabs my thighs, his hands gliding up, dangerously close to my sex, I thrash my head side to side.
I look around, hoping to get the older guy’s attention. I don’t know why I think he’ll care about any of this.
By some miracle, the moving hands on my body halt.
“Don’t worry, I can’t touch you, not now.” My skin crawls at his hot breath on my neck. “I also like it hard.”
Tears trickle from my eyes, gushing down my cheeks.
I have no idea how much time has passed since I’m tied to this chair, but the way my hands hurt, I think it’s been a few hours.
I hope Mere and Keith have informed my mom that I’m missing. I hope incidences of the day at Vanshionista don’t stop her from sending someone for me.
So much to hope, but that’s all I can do.
The door to the warehouse opens and my kidnappers spring from their chairs as three men march in. The one in the center is a short guy wearing a bright white suit and white shoes. Is he the boss?
The stranger dressed in white looks at me and then barks at my kidnappers in rapid Russian.
They shake their heads in response, waving their hands toward me.
The new boss’s irritated glare fixes on me and he takes a few steps my way. I shrink backward in the chair when his hand comes closer to my face.
He pulls the tape mercilessly away from my mouth, making me scream in pain.
“Who the fuck are you? You’re not the daughter.” He points a gun at me and repeatedly taps my head, screaming something to his goons. “My fucking men didn’t even notice your hair.”
Crap! He knows they’ve picked the wrong girl.
“Do I need one of my men to get an answer out of you?”
I shake my head fast. “I-I’m the tenant.”
“Tenant?” He looks at me in confusion.
Mere should be home by now. Will this guy send someone back for her? Now I’m worried for her too.
God! Please let today be one of the days when Keith returns home early.
The older kidnapper says something fast to his boss, breaking my thoughts.
“So, what were you doing in the house? My men say you were sitting on the couch, playing with the cat, cooking. That’s no tenant.”
I don’t know how to reply. I do move around the kitchen and living room like it’s my own place. “I…I’m a friend.”
“Of the girl? Or…” He looks at me carefully. “You fucking that bastard Adams?” His eyebrows rise and there’s no mistaking the hate in his eyes when he spews Keith’s name.