Page 11 of Fear the Reapers
“Do you have a death wish or something?” She griped, staring at my reflection in the bathroom mirror. “Seriously, you don’t even know where to go.”
I flashed her the thick card I swiped from Malcolm as I layered on some red lipstick. It was a business card for Alessandro’s, some fancy ass Italian place uptown, with the word “midnight” scribbled in Malcolm’s chicken scratch writing. No way in hell would Malcolm ever be able to afford to eat at a place like that, not-to-mention they wouldn’t be open at that hour. Whatever was happening at midnight was business.
“This has to be the drop-off location.” I said, sliding her the card and giving myself a once over in the mirror. “It isn’t up for debate, I have to do this.”
My tight black jeans left little to the imagination. Combined with my heeled leather booties and I looked like a total badass. The flimsy black corset top I wore once on Halloween may have been over-the-top, but I threw it on under my thin leather jacket, anyway. I needed to make sure I looked like someone they wouldn’t refuse.
“I’m not letting you go.” She insisted, shaking her head as tears welled in her eyes. “You can’t leave me, I can’t-” Her words choked on a sob as tears streamed down her quivering chin. “We stay together. That’s the rule.”
“I know,” I said, stoning my own features and being strong for her, “but it’ll only be temporary. I’ll check in with you when I can and it’ll be over before we know it. This could be our chance at freedom.”
“Yeah… but at what cost?” She whispered.
I didn’t want to think about what was going to happen to me. All I would focus on was keeping her as far away from this shit as possible. I couldn’t let her know how terrified I truly was, because the thought of what they’d do to her scared me more.
I gave her all the cash I had saved up over the last couple of years and made her promise to finish out school and avoid running into Malcolm at all costs. As far as he knew, we had run away for good. We would be okay as long as we stuck to the plan.
Hopefully.
Chapter 7
Stevie
“I’m here to repay Malcolm Warner’s debt.”
As they slipped past my lips, the foul words left a bitter taste on my tongue. It was one thing to repeat the words over and over again in my head and another thing entirely to say them out loud.
The cryptic message didn’t faze the stone-faced guard, who greeted me at the guard post. He offered nothing more than silence and an averted stare as he ushered me towards the main gate.
It shouldn’t have surprised me. The men at Alessandro’s treated me with the same indifference. Speaking once, before blindfolding me, throwing me into their car, and leaving me here. I wasn’t expecting a warm welcome, but the indifference of it all was unsettling.
Once we reached the main gate, Stone-faced handed me over before rushing back to the empty post at the bottom of the hill. The three guards he left me with were the ones tasked with allowing me entry into the property. They looked exactly like what you’d expect seedy security guards to look like. Muscled, filthy, and dangerous.
The short, stocky one was the first to step forward. He was all business as he motioned for me to hand over my duffle bag and rifled through my belongings. His movements were quick and efficient, and I could tell by his cool disregard and composure that he’d been doing this job for a while.
The lanky blonde one was the next to make a move. His face looked bored as he gestured for me to pass him my handbag. I placed the bag in his hands and tried not to watch as he rummaged through my most prized possessions. Within a few seconds, Lanky Blonde found the cell phone I tried to hide in the lining and snatched it away with no explanation. My heart sunk, but I maintained my composure. I knew it could happen, but that didn’t make it any easier to watch.
Then there was guard number three, the average-looking meathead. He differed from the other two. The moment he caught sight of me, he puffed out his chest, rested his hand on his gun holster, and gave me a smug smirk. I’d bet my life savings that he was the newest of the three and therefore, had the most to prove.
He glued his dull eyes to my form as he informed me of the full body search he would be conducting. The outfit I had on left little to the imagination. He and I both knew there was no way I could hide anything. Meathead just wanted to put on a show of dominance for his buddies and unfortunately for me, I was at his mercy.
Gritting my teeth, I followed Meathead’s orders and stood wide, raising my arms to help expedite the process. I could feel his hot breath cascading down my neck and without looking, I already knew he was standing too close to conduct a normal search.
His clammy hands roamed my body, pressing harder than necessary and forming a knot in my stomach and a lump in my throat. I closed my eyes and focused on my breathing.
I let myself relax a little once Meathead had made it down to my ankles.He's almost done, just keep breathing...But when his hands went for another round of grazing my ass, the unease in my chest skyrocketed.
I looked to the other guards for help, but they saw nothing, too caught up in their own tasks. My mouth wanted to call out for help, but I worried that bringing attention to it may only end up making it worse for me. I didn’t know any of these men; who’s to say they wouldn’t just join in on the action.
Meathead took full advantage of our ‘privacy’ and began painfully squeezing and rubbing my denim-clad flesh. A wave of nausea hit me and my mouth pooled, preparing for the vomit that was threatening to surface. I tried to stop it, but the sensation of his hands violating me had consumed me. I tried to squirm out of his reach but only exceeded in egging him on even further.
Meathead’s idiotic self took my wiggling as a sign of my body reacting positively to him and stepped in even closer. The second I felt his vile erection press against my ass cheeks, I fractured. My pulse thundered in my veins and a gleam of sticky sweat coated my skin. I tried to regain my composure, to focus on my breathing again, but all I could see was red. All I could feel was disgust.
Eyeing the foot he stupidly planted beside mine, I stomped down on his cheap black loafer with full force, relishing in the crunch of bones underneath my heel. The yelp that escaped his lips felt like a healing balm, washing away most of the nausea in my gut.
“You stupid bitch!” He reeled, gripping my bicep to swing me around like a rag doll.
I kept my face expressionless. Meathead seemed like the type of guy that enjoyed people’s fear, and I refused to feed into his ego by cowering beneath him. He was just a tiny blip on the mountain of shit I was in, and I had much bigger things to be afraid of.
