Page 43 of Switchin' Lanes
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Tink
At some point,the guy who grabbed me put some kind of black hood over my head before I could see who he is. Then he zip-tied my hands together and practically threw me into a vehicle. More than likely a van of some sort. After what feels like hours later, the vehicle comes to a stop.
“Come on,chiquita,” the man says. He has a thick Spanish accent. He pulls me to my feet, dragging me so fast, I’m stumbling over my feet. I shuffle up a set of stairs. A door opens and he pulls me into a room. My foot catches on the threshold and I trip. The man catches me from hitting the floor, muttering something in Spanish. This time, he picks me up and carries me until he sets me on a bed. When he removes the hood, my heart skips a beat. He’s the same man who was creeping me out at the hospital.
He smirks as if he can read my mind. “Get comfy. You’re going to be here for a while.”
He walks out of the room, closing the door behind himself. I take the chance to check out the room. Other than the bed, there’s a side table and sofa chair. There’s one window and the only door is the one I was carried through. I fall back on the bed, staring at the ceiling. How the hell did I manage to get myself in this situation? I drift off to sleep, contemplating everything that could have led to this.
Sometime later, I’m being woken up to someone walking into the room. I manage to sit up.
“Who are you? And what do you want from me,” I ask the guy.
“All you need to know is I’m a friend of your brother’s. He owes me quite a bit of money and with him being in the hospital, I didn’t think he would be able to pay,” he tells me. “I’m sureEl Jefewill be pleased with you as payment.”
“Why me, though? Why not his girlfriend?”
“You mean that strung out toothpick?” He cackles, shaking his head. “El Jefelikes his women with some meat on their bones and clean of drugs. Plus you have some nice tits.”
“You’re disgusting,” I spit out.
“I never claimed to be anything else.” He moves closer to the bed with a sinister smirk sprawled out across his face. “Now, why don’t I test outEl Jefe’snew toy?”
Just as he reaches for me, his phone rings. He glances at the screen then to me.
“You’ll have to wait until tomorrow. Business calls.” He answers his phone as he walks out of the room. I let out a heavy breath I didn’t realize I was holding.
Hours later, when the cabin is silent, I decide to try something I learned years ago. Breaking out of the zip ties. I wiggle off the bed, standing to my feet. I lift my hands above my head, holding them as high as I can. Swiftly, I swing them toward the ground and amazingly enough, the zip ties break.
“Those self-defense classes really came in handy,” I mutter to myself. I move to the window and open it. I test the screen to see if it will come out quietly. Popping one corner out, I pause, listening for footsteps in the hallway. When I don’t hear any, I quickly pop the rest out and slide the screen into the room. I set it on the bed then move back to the window. I stick my head out and glance around, assessing my next move.
Luckily, this place doesn’t have two stories, so I’m not stuck on the second floor. The downside, we’re in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by trees. Once I climb out of this window, I won’t know where to go next. I don’t know what’s out there. Anything has to be better than being some disgusting, sorry excuse for a man’s plaything.
I swing a leg over the windowsill, then the next and slide down until my feet hit the ground. A twig snaps in the distance and I freeze. Once everything seems to still, I take off into the trees. Praying like hell they don’t realize I’m gone until morning.
After what feels like hours later, I come to a paved road. There are no cars in sight. I take a moment to decide which way I should go. I choose to go right, walking close to the trees. That way, if a car comes by, I can duck behind a tree. I don’t want to risk being seen by the guys who took me.
My feet begin to hurt, but I keep walking. I want to get as far away from that cabin and those creeps as I can.
Eventually, I come to a gas station. I don’t know what time it is, but the lights are all on and it looks like there’s at least one person inside. I pick up my pace and hurry inside. I walk up to the counter. Thank God it’s a woman working.
“Excuse me? Do you have a phone I can use?”
She looks me up and down. I’m sure I look like a hot mess. “Sure.”
She grabs the cordless phone and hands it to me. I dial the first number that comes to my mind— the Savage Menaces’ Clubhouse.
