Page 58 of Wreckage of My Life
I hum in agreement, but I don’t have it in me to say any words. Becca swept me off my fucking feet from the second I laid eyes on her. It’s been a couple of months now and my dick is still so stuck on her that it won’t let me fuck anyone else.
All of a sudden, we hear sirens outside. They’re loud enough that they echo inside the lobby of the hotel, putting all the patrons milling around on high alert.
“What the fuck is going on?” Sully stands up, and I follow suit.
There are at least ten police cars out there and what seems to be a S.W.A.T. truck that’s parked sideways.
We both watch in odd fascination as the whole squad seems to be running inside the hotel, swarming the lobby, yelling for everyone to show their hands and nobody to move.
“You got your guns on you?” Sully mutters under his breath, hands up in the air, same as me.
“Fuckin’ aye,” I respond just as I roll my eyes toward the high ceiling.
All of a sudden, we got guns pointed at us from every which way.
“Get on the ground, get on the ground!” Faceless voices call from behind the ski masks they got on. “Hands behind your head!”
I drop to my knees, hands firmly behind my head when I see in the corner of my eye that Sully is being pushed out of the way.
“Make sure she’s okay,” I call out to him right before a fucker jumps on my back, making me face plant into the hard floor.
The next few minutes are chaotic at best. There’s lots of yelling all around me, and I still have someone sitting on my back, a gun firmly held to my head.
I wince when I feel a shooting pain my ribs. Fuck my life, they’d just started feeling a lot better, now I gotta start over.
“Stand up,” a deep voice growls at me, and two pairs of hands, one on each side, grab me by the arms and hoist me into a standing position.
“Get him in the van,” another voice calls out. I turn my head that way, but I’m not able to make out who’s talking. My eyes connect with Sully’s, so I try to call out to him again.
“Make sure she’s okay,” I repeat my request from earlier. He’ll know I’m talking about Becca. “And Ma…”
These fuckers don’t let me finish what I have to say. They start marching me out of the hotel building, the crowd parting to let us through. Onlookers are staring in shock. I see someone holding a phone up to film, but one of the police officers slaps it out of their hand, then steps on it, making sure to crush it into the floor.
They throw me into a dark van where two new assholes grab me and slam me onto a narrow bench, then the doors close behind us. It’s like someone turned the lights off. There’s a little bit of light coming from the front, but not a lot.
“Keep your fucking mouth shut,” the huge guy on my left mutters low into my ear.
I got nothing to lose at this point, so I keep my mouth shut, as instructed, and just stare ahead. We hear loud voices surrounding the van, then doors slamming closed over and over again until the very last one, after which the van gets started and we take off toward parts unknown. To me at least.
By my estimation, we drive for a minimum of forty-five minutes once we get on the road. I continue sitting here quietly despite my aching ribs and hips, and overall numbness that’s taken over my body.
Just when I feel like I can’t take it anymore, we seem to have stopped. The back doors of the van open, and I am temporarily blinded by the sudden burst of light invading our space.
“Move,” the fucker who’s been giving orders from the moment I got loaded into this fucking thing pushes me out of my seat, and I almost lose my balance and fall over. I feel all stiff and like I can barely walk.
I want to pay attention to what’s going on around me, but it’s hard. They seem to be taking me inside this monstrous warehouse like building that is all made out of brick. If I were to guess, I’d say it’s in a shady part of town.
They march me down a couple of hallways until we get to a closed door where they knock three times.
“Enter,” a deep voice echoes from inside, and the door opens like magic. An even bigger dude is on the other side, blocking the rest of the room from view.
“This him?” he jerks his chin at me while talking to my handlers. The light from the bright lightbulb in the room shines on his bald head, and I am momentarily distracted by that. Not to mention, the dude is built. He most likely needs to have his suits tailor made.
“I sure hope so,” my buddy from the van chuckles. “It’d really suck if we kidnapped the wrong guy.”
Kidnapped? The word bounces around in my head.
“I thought I was being arrested,” I finally say, and they both find it very amusing. The giant in front of me shows me two perfect rows of teeth that are so white, they almost glow against the darkness of his skin.
