Page 42 of Sinners' Appetite
“Occupying her mouth,” Paul chuckles.
“Christ, you couldn’t wait until we got there?”
“Look, I’m keeping her quiet. Just focus on the road, pretty boy.”
I’m barely able to hold myself together, knowing that there’s nothing I can do for Sammi. I have to figure something out, quickly.
“That’s right, doll, open those pretty eyes and look at me,” Paul moans, making my blood boil as the adrenaline builds up inside me.
I manage to roll onto my back and curl into a tight ball, placing one of my feet through the tight space above my bound wrists. When my leg slips through, I repeat the same process with the other, somehow flawlessly placing my arms in front of me instead.
I know I don’t have long before they open the trunk again, so I move as fast as I can, feeling all around me for something, anything to help me get the ropes off. When I don’t find anything, I bite down into the knot and pull as hard as I can.
Finally, the rope starts to loosen and I pull it the rest of the way, freeing my wrists. Now—I have to remove the rope around my ankles. Only, for some odd reason, the rope around my ankles are thinner and tied into multiple knots.
There’s no way for me to untie all of them in time.
“Should we stop for gas?” I hear Nolan ask Paul.
“How far are we from our destination?” he asks, still residing in the back seat with Sammi.
I tell myself that he’s done with her, trying to ease my mind enough to stay focused on our escape, but just then, I hear her whining, followed by a sickening gurgle.
“Don’t you dare spit that out,” Paul growls.
“Tilt her head back and rub hard along her throat. It’ll have her swallowing in no time,” Nolan suggests.
I don’t know what I ever saw in him. I wasn’t with him for very long, but clearly—there were a lot things I didn’t know about him.
Seconds later, Paul lets out a satisfied moan. “Worked like a fucking charm.” He half-laughs.
“Okay, I think she’ll stay quiet now. I need you up here,” Nolan demands.
“What if I’m not done with her yet?” Paul replies. “She has plenty of holes for me to fill.”
“Get. The. Fuck. Up. Here.”
“You’re just jealous,” Paul chants. “You’ll have your turn soon enough.”
“I don’t want that one,” Nolan insists. “Nikki has no idea what’s coming to her in—roughly an hour.”
“Can I watch?” Paul asks, making my stomach turn.
“I might even let you pick a hole to occupy at the same time.”
“Fuck yeah! It’s my lucky fucking day!” Paul cheerfully hollers out.
When I know Paul is sitting back up front, I rip the tape off my mouth and sit up, pressing my ear against the back of the back seat, listening for any indication of Sammi being close enough to hear me if I say her name.
“Sammi?” I say, unsure as to whether she can even hear me or not.
Just then, the car stops and I hear someone open the gas tank cover on the outside of the car.
“Sammi? Can you hear me? Elbow the seat twice if you can hear me…” I say, hoping that only Sammi can hear me.
Seconds later, Sammi elbows the seat, just enough for me to feel the vibration against the hand I have resting on the back of the seat.
I breathe a sigh of relief. She’s alive.
