Page 159 of Two Guys, a Girl, and a Tripod

“Because,” she sighs again, “I know that if I don’t make him take you two idiots, you’ll find a way to get there first and get yourselves hurt or worse.”

She’s not wrong. She has to know that I’ve been trying for hours to get back into Harp’s systems, but I built the security well. I never thought I’d have to break in, so I didn’t give myself a way to do so.

“Thank you.”

“Just don’t get yourselves hurt. Those two are dangerous men.”

“So his brother is here too?” asks Miles, stepping toward the phone.

“Unfortunately,” Mel mutters. “Booker should be there soon.”

She hangs up and Miles looks at me in confusion.

“Do you know anything about this Booker?”

“He’s news to me.”

The waiting is the hardest part. Knowing what Caleb and his brother are capable of, knowing Sophie has been with them for hours. I’m losing my mind. Miles returns to pacing even once we move to the living room to wait for Booker.

“It’s going to be ok.” I feel like I have to be the voice of reason here even though I’m dangerously close to falling off the edge into insanity. “Mel only works with the best.” That’s true, at least. “Booker will find her.”

“Brody, I didn’t-” A choked sob cuts off his words. The only time I’ve ever seen him like this is when his father died. “Never mind.”

The doorbell rings and Miles freezes, staring at the front door, leaving me to answer it.

The man on our doorstep may not be as tall as I am, but he’s wide, filling the doorway with his huge frame. His long-sleeve, black shirt is tight enough, making it look like his muscles have muscles. The sleeves are pushed up to reveal one arm covered in black ink. Or rather, the darkest gray with black tattooed over it in geometric designs. The other arm has more colorful artwork. More tattoos with jewel tones snake up from beneath the neck of his shirt and up his head, disappearing beneath jet-black hair which is shaved on the sides. I stare at the artwork for a moment, forgetting that I should probably speak.

“Booker,” I say, by way of greeting. My voice is hoarse.

“You must be Brody,” he grunts, then looks past me at Miles. “Fucking civilians. If I tell you to hide or shut up or run, you fucking do it. Understood?”

“Understood.” I nod and Miles echoes his agreement.

“Let’s go get your girl.”

43

Sophie

“You know, we planned something special for you.” It’s the first time Caleb has addressed me in a while, maybe hours.

The ball gag keeps me from doing anything other than moaning an ‘oh goody’.

“What was that?” Jesse teases. Without warning, my chair tilts back and my arms and legs jerk, but I have nothing to grab onto. My ankles and wrists are still bound. “I’m having trouble understanding you.”

Fuck you and the horse you rode in on, you cow-fucking, cum-guzzling butt-monkeys.Natalie’s knack for creative insults must be rubbing off on me.

They spin my chair and drag me for several feet before coming to a stop, spinning me again, and setting the front two legs back on the ground. I’ve lost all sense of direction, unsure if I’m by the closed door from earlier or the big, graffitied window–are they going to throw me off of it?

“Take the blindfold off,” Caleb orders. “I want her to watch as we put together herset.”

The fuck?

Jesse takes off the blindfold, but not the gag. My jaw aches and I’ve been drooling so bad that saliva has dripped from my chin down onto my tank top. The sight that greets me makes my stomach churn.

The white door that was on the other side of the table is open now and I’m much closer, sitting just a couple of feet in front of the doorway. A heavy-duty, metal saw horse is visiblein the center of the room. Set up on either side are large, halogen work lights. Last, on the far side of the room, angled at the saw horse, is a tripod with a camera attached to it.

They’re going to film their abuse, the sick fucks. This has to be Jesse’s idea. Caleb was never this twisted.

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