Part 6
Hours pass in silence. They talk to each other for a while
before deciding they prefer the awkward silence. Eventually, the stockier of
the two men rises from his chair, gesturing for the other man to watch me
before disappearing. I hear a heavy door close somewhere behind me. Then
silence falls again.
My remaining captor glances up from cleaning his fingernails
with a knife. Folding the knife, he slides it into his pocket. He offers me a slight
grin before standing and walking toward me. I slouch further into the chair as
he reaches one hand toward me, but he just checks the knots around my wrists
and feet.
“Don’t go anywhere, sugar, I’ll be back soon.” He offers one
last grin before circling around me.
I hear the door open and close again. Then I am left alone
with the silence. I flex my hands, trying to release it from the loop of rope.
I give up after a few tries as the knot draws tighter and I feel rug burn
beginning to form along the back of my wrist. I push up with my legs, trying to
get enough leverage to lift the chair onto my back and hobble toward the door.
My ankles tingle as blood flows through them, but the chair legs remain flat on
the floor. Finally, I close my eyes and resume waiting.
A heavy door connecting with a metal wall resonates through
the room. I open my eyes, craning my neck to in a vain attempt to see them
coming. My hands clench and unclench in frustration as I wait. The soft murmur
of voices draws closer.
An unfamiliar voice rises in anger. “You left her alone?”
“It’s not like we care if she gets lonely.” I recognize the
slow drawl of the lesser of my two captors.
“I told him to stay with her, boss.” The other says.
“I don’t care what you told him. You should have waited for
me to arrive. Get a quick dinner or something. I’d like a private audience with
our guest.”
Not needing to be asked twice, their heavy footsteps retreat.
My breath catches as patent leather shoes with a slight heel enter my line of
vision. My eyes trail up to navy blue slacks, a matching, tailored blazer, a
white shirt, red necktie, and finally a face that makes me tilt my head. So
much about his face doesn’t seem quite right.
A strange orange glow rises from most of his skin, but a few
small patches of startling white appear at the hairline. The color would have
screamed fake tan without these neglected patches of his true color. Even his
hair disagrees with itself. Too thin to merit so much color, it gleams under
black dye and too much gel. One nervous giggle escapes before he leans in with
a snarl on his face.
“Do I amuse you?”
My breath catches in my throat. I shake my head.
“Good. You know why you are here.”
He doesn’t ask a question but I shake my head back and
forth.
“Where are they?” He leans in so close that spit sprays my
face.
I bite my tongue, refusing to answer.
“Just tell me where the documents are.”
I turn my head from him, trying to wipe away as much spittle
as possible on my shoulder. He laughs harshly, grabbing my hair close to the
roots and contorting my neck back so far that my eyes and mouth go wide.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I force the words
past the lump in my throat as he pulls harder.
He releases my hair and my head snaps forward. I manage to
bite back most of the groan that rises into my throat.
“I’ll let you sleep on it one more time, but I expect
answers when I return.” He punctuates his words with a harsh slap for each
cheek.
My ears ring. Tears fill my eyes. I watch his blurry figure
disappear out of the corner of my eye. I struggle to hold my head up defiantly
until enough time has passed for him to be gone. Then I let it slump forward
onto my chest as tears slowly flow down my cheeks.
More? More? More? I know. I know. I have more. I just need to translate the rough draft that I scrawled around the edges of a piece of paper and proofread it again before I present it for your attention. In the meantime, feel free to share your thoughts below:
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