Page 81 of Angel

No doubt Ivy would help if she heard about this. No one had seen her since the mountain funeral at the overlook.

“Veronica took my son too,” Steel reminded her. “I’ll be the one to pull the trigger, regardless of what genitals she has.”

Angel nodded once in appreciation.

They were in a motel room. Ollie and Bree were gagged with their hands tied in front of them. Aaron’s wrists were tied behind his back. He was unconscious on the bed closer to the bathroom while they were on the one closer to the front door.

The two men who had done the actual kidnapping were out getting the man Bree had cut looked at. He had been unable to walk properly to help carry Aaron or Bree into the motel room. The abandoned motel was secluded and gross enough that Bree doubted anyone trustworthy frequented a place like this. The window curtain by the door was open to allow in whatever sunlight was left for the day.

The pastor was across the room at the small table and chair sat reading his Bible. The spine was so worn that some of the pages were lopsided in the binding. He’d already sprinkled holy water on them and said multiple prayers over their heads.

Ollie had lost his hat in the struggle. He looked scared but not injured. Bree’s right leg was bleeding from being dragged along the sidewalk. The pro and con of her condition was that she wasn’t in pain—but she was still bleeding.

Aaron looked like he was sleeping. There was nothing wrong with him as far as Bree could tell, except for being drugged.

Bree had to be very careful not to move too quickly or risk the pastor noticing. The man was currently muttering to himself about homosexuals, demons, and the wrath of God. The issue wasn’t getting her hands free. Uncle Ranger had taught her how to twist her wrists as someone was binding her to create extra room in the cuff and give her the opportunity to slip the bindings. Ropes were trickier, but she was getting it. None of these men were master knotters and had not done anything intricate that would make her job harder.

The issue was her damn legs. Without her chair, what was the point of getting her hands free? Ollie was a panicky mess and had had no training on how to get out of his bindings. Aaron was still unconscious.

She had a rough idea of where they were. Uncle Ghost told her to always look for signs and landmarks. She knew to track how long they were on a certain road and which turns were taken.

A phone ringing startled Bree out of her concentration. Next to her, she felt Ollie jump. She reached her bound hands over onto his left leg next to her to help comfort him. Out of the corner of her eye, she thought she saw Aaron’s arm twitch.

“Yes?” The pastor’s soothing voice was in contrast to his cruel eyes.

Bree knew those eyes. This was not a Man of God; this was a man who used his god as a smokescreen to be sadistic. Unlike the zealot men who had formed the cult that Cassie had escaped from, Bree questioned if his man even believed in a god. Or was he simply homophobic and used the Bible as his weapon so he seemed righteous?

The pastor stood up and looked over at them. Bree pretended to cower. He turned his attention back to his phone call. He opened the door to the motel room and walked out.

Bree waited a heavy second before she started working on her bindings even harder. Aaron let out a moan on the other bed. As soon as her wrists were free, she got the gag out of her mouth.

“You awake, Big Brother?” she called out to him, but not too loudly.

Bree planted her hands and lifted her hips enough to turn on the bed to face Ollie. He looked at her in utter shock and surprise as she started working on the knot in his bindings.

“What the hell happened?” Aaron groaned, turning his face into the mattress.

“Your mom’s pastor kidnapped us,” Bree told him. She was keeping one eye on the door while trying to loosen Ollie’s hands. “Don’t worry though. You’ve been re-baptized or whatever in the hopes that your gayness has been cured. Are you still gay?”

Aaron’s snort was muffled by the mattress. “Pretty sure.”

“Oh joy,” Bree said sarcastically. “Having a straight big brother would have been so boring.” As soon as Ollie’s hands were free, she ordered, “Go get Aaron’s hands.”

Ollie scrambled to get the gag out of his mouth. “How the hell are you so calm?” His voice was high pitched with fear.

“Not my first kidnapping,” she reminded him. There was an edge to her voice that seemed to help calm him.

Ollie scooted off of the bed and hurried over to Aaron’s bed. Bree army-crawled her way across the bed to the phone. She picked up the receiver, but there was no dial-tone. She hit multiple buttons, but the phone showed no signs of life. “Fuck,” she muttered to herself. Louder, she said, “Phone doesn’t work. We need to get ourselves to the office or find someone with a phone.”

Aaron rolled to his side to give Ollie access to his hands. He looked at Ollie over his shoulder. “Not really how I wanted to spend time in bed with you.”

Ollie’s cheeks flushed. “Me either.” He let out a sound of frustration as he fought with Aaron’s knot. “Can’t you just Hulk your way out of these? What’s the point of all those muscles if you still need me to save you?”

Bree saw how glassy Aaron’s eyes looked as he threw Ollie a tentative smile over his shoulder and knew that her brother wasn’t a hundred percent yet. Not good.

Though Ollie was unable to get Aaron’s knot undone, Aaron was able to twist his body enough that he got his hands under his butt. Then he worked his legs through his bound arms and brought his hands in front of him.

“Ollie, look for a weapon,” Bree said as she grabbed for the lamp on the nightstand between them.

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