Page 18 of Beauty & Corruption

Torn heart.

The loud noise.

The people.

The rifle.

The bat.

The pain.

The blood.

The darkness.

It was overwhelming, and if I let myself keep spiraling like this, I was bound to die. I wasn’t a quitter, though. I had proclaimed I was Reggy 2.0, and giving up just wasn’t in her blood. I grunted, grabbed my shoelace again, and went to work.

Using my fingers, I inched the string up into my hands and carefully wrapped it around the tape between my crossed wrists. My fingers ached, but I pushed through the pain. I refused to end up on one of those true crime TV specials.

My eyes adjusted a little more as I focused on the string, and I was thankful for that. As I sawed the lace back and forth to create friction, I prayed it would do what I had seen done—weaken the tape and give me a chance to break free from the trunk…or hell. I really didn’t know or care where I was. I just wanted out.

My mind screamed to go into panic mode when I thought about the possibility of not being able to escape, but I refused to go there again. “I will get out of here!” I quietly promised myself. There had to be a reason they didn’t leave me for dead back at the house. Instead, they put me in a…well, I was here, wherever that was. I was leverage to whoever took me, so it had to be the Falbos or an associate of theirs. Fuck. If that was the reason Iwas alive, as long as I was their prisoner, Stone and Mordy were in danger.

My heart clenched within my chest, and I frantically moved the string as fast and as hard as I was able with what little strength I had in my sore body. My left hand slipped forward when the tape began to give, and I flexed my hands in opposite directions. The tape ripped, and I grabbed it between my teeth, gnawing at it until my hands were almost free. C’mon. Almost free. I stretched the tape between my thumb and pointer finger and forced the tape open the rest of the way. My right hand smacked against something hard, and I cried out from the impact.

“Shit!” My body stilled, and I listened for anyone who might come check on me. I had tried to make as little noise as possible to not draw unwanted attention to myself, but that was fucking painful.

It was difficult to make out much of anything. The gift of clear vision would be great right about now. My eyes scanned my surroundings, searching for anything in case I needed to fight someone. I doubted I would do much damage, given the state I was in, but I refused to give up. I wouldn’t.

“Thank you,” I whispered, noticing a crowbar beside me. I became a makeshift MacGyver, and it worked, thankfully, but I could have saved so much time if I had just felt around and found this earlier. Shoving the straight end through the gapped part of tape over my legs, I cautiously pushed it through, making a sizeable tear, and then undid the rest with my hands. I jabbed it around, trying to figure out what I was in, and when no one yelped in pain, I used my hands.

Fuzzy material.

Motor Oil.

Darkness.

It had to be a trunk.

My hands traced around the frame until they found a loop, praying it was a trunk release, and I pulled it.

Click.

Tears swelled in my eyes, and I told myself not to cry. Not yet. I wasn’t free, so no celebration was needed. I flattened my palm against what I assumed was a seat and carefully pushed it forward.

I listened for a moment, but I didn’t hear anything at first. I scooted closer to the opening and peeked out into the interior. This was so strange. Why did they go to all of the trouble of abducting me and then just leave me in the trunk, with a crowbar, nonetheless? It was perfect. Almost too perfect.

A loud bang went off, and I ducked back into the trunk for protection. Was that a gunshot?

“Where is she?” Another shot fired, but it didn’t frighten me this time. It was Stone! Shit! It was Stone! He wasn’t safe. I had to warn him. If I didn’t, they’d kill him.

Chapter 20

Stone

When the door opened, my eyes immediately zeroed in on a man balls deep in a woman. “Patrick Falbo! What the hell was he doing here?” I mumbled more to myself than to Mordy. We both knew the most logical reason. It was the same thing that brought us here as well. Bird.

“Stay hidden,” I whispered to Mordy when we both ducked behind a booth. As soon as it registered in my brain who he was, blind rage raced full speed through my veins.

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