Page 2 of Intangible
Fighting as best as she could while still bound, she tried desperately to headbutt one of her captors. He grabbed her hair, jerking it tightly in his hands to keep her still. The pain that radiated through her scalp made her cry out.
“It’s about time you got here. I don’t like to be kept waiting.” The voice was from a different man than the one she had kicked. Neither voice had sounded familiar, but this one sent shivers down her spine. How was it possible that a person could sound so sinister?
“Sorry, boss. It was harder to get her out than we thought. Took us a little longer than anticipated,” the first man said. That made at least three of them. She knew she needed to gather any information she could about the situation.
“She had better not have been damaged,” the man in charge answered as if she were just some object. Bile rose in the back of her throat again at the realization that perhaps that was all she was to him. Something that could be used and then tossed out like the trash. “I need them to believe they’ll get her back in one piece.”
She must have let out a whimper because her head was pulled back with a jerk on her hair.
“A few bruises, but nothing serious. What do you want us to do now?”
“I have someone hired to watch her. They’ll be by later. Your money is being transferred. I’ll be in touch if I need you again.” The man stepped over to her and she was suddenly surrounded by the sickly smell of a sweet cologne. “Behave yourself and you might just make it out of this alive,” he said, growling into her ear. She flinched back as the men laughed.
The nauseating smell of cologne disappeared as quickly as it arrived. Hearing a car door open, then the growl of the engine moving away, she guessed the man had left.
Someone cut the ties that bound her feet together and she was suddenly marched forward. She listened to a rusty groan before stumbling down a set of stairs, the only thing keeping her from falling was the hands holding on to her.
The floor under her feet was cold and her body began to shake. No doubt it was trying to go into some form of shock from everything that had happened, but she refused to give in to it.
“I suggest you get comfortable, princess. You won’t be going anywhere soon,” one of the men said, his mouth next to her ear. He laughed when she tried to pull away from him.
Running his hand down her body, he cut the ties, holding her hands together. With a nasty shove, she found herself crashing against something before hitting what had to be a wall. Her fingers crept up to the trickle of blood oozing down from her forehead where she had fallen.
The man laughed harder as he left the room with his accomplices.
Hearing a door slam shut, she rolled on her back, reaching for the blindfold. Pulling it from her head, she was dismayed to find only a faint light coming from a weak bulb somewhere outside the room. At least she wasn’t in complete darkness.
Climbing onto a cot covered with a scratchy, dirty blanket, she began to work the gag from her mouth. She was now shaking so badly that she had to fight to get her fingers to work the tape off. Once she had wrestled it free, she spit out the disgusting cloth.
Wrapping the blanket around her, she sat on the cot, curling her feet under her, hoping to get some warmth back in them.
She was in a cage, like the ones from the old westerns she used to watch with her bodyguard when she was in middle school. Only this one looked like a newer version with a modern lock. There was enough room for the cot, a bucket, and not much else.
The cage sat inside some kind of cellar with cinder-block walls and a rough-hewn floor. There was a bare bulb hanging from the ceiling that was turned off, but nothing else as far as she could see. With a shiver, she wrapped the blanket tighter around herself.
Reaching out, she pushed on the door, finding it firmly locked. Tears began to form as she closed her eyes. Quickly, she took several deep breaths, pushing the tears away. She had been taught that crying would only cause her to dehydrate, and she didn’t know when she would get any water.
Straightening her shoulders, she vowed to stay strong. If her father and her tutor turned bodyguard, turned surrogate older brother had taught her anything, they had taught her to survive. She reminded herself that, without a doubt, the second they learned she was missing, they would leave no stone unturned until they found her. She just needed to do whatever she had to survive until then.
There were three things that she needed to remember. First, she was stronger than she knew.
Second, she needed to keep herself as healthy as possible. That included getting as much rest as they would allow, drinking any water they brought, and eating what she was given for nourishment.
Third, her mind was her greatest weapon. She needed to analyze every move to find her best attack. It’s why her father had insisted on her learning chess and readingThe Art of War.Her opponent always had a weakness, she just needed to find it.
She sank down onto the cot, feeling exhaustion slowly winning its fight against her. In just a few moments, she fell fast asleep.
She had no idea how long she’d slept when she heard the hinges of a door moan. Quickly sitting up, she pushed herself as far back from the door as possible. Two men came around the corner wearing balaclavas carrying a sack from McDonald’s with them.
“Flash me your tits and you can have it,” one of the men said, waving the bag in front of him.
“Just give her the sack,” the other man said, pushing two bottles of water inside the cage.
“I’m just having a little fun,” the first man said, smashing the sack inside the cage. They didn’t sound like the voices from before. These two sounded much younger, like high school or college age. “Are we supposed to stay to make sure she eats?”
“Nah. We just get paid to bring her food and empty her slop bucket every day. That’s your job.” He laughed, walking back toward the door as his partner started to whine.
“Why do I always get the shit jobs?”
