Page 42 of Female Fantasy
I inhale for three, exhale for six. Somehow, the strategy works. I focus my attention once more.
“What’s the plan, then?” I ask casually. “If you’re not planning on robbing us, what good are we to you?”
Thomas scoffs. “As if we’re going to give you a villain monologue. Nice try, sweetie. This ain’t no action movie.”
Nico bristles, shifting back and forth in agitation.
I sigh, spittle splattering the inside of my brown paper bag.
It was worth a try.
Suddenly, the car stops and the radio shuts off. I hear the front doors open, then slam shut. The tapping of heels on the pavement, followed by the muffled sound of raised voices.
Our assailants must be arguing about what to do next. This is clearly their first kidnapping.
I shift to the right slightly and reach out with my tied hands, trying to find Nico’s fingers. Unfortunately, I scrape something else with my nails instead.
“Hey!” he whisper-shouts. “Watch your hands!”
“I’m sorry, do you have a hard-on?”
“It’s an involuntary reaction to adrenaline. Sue me!”
For the first time since we met Thomas and Clarisse, I stifle a laugh.
Then the door next to me flies open, and two strong arms loop under my armpits and haul me out of the car. I smell burned cinders, cheap liquor, and gas station perfume. I groan as my assailant throws me over their shoulder, my torso dangling down their back and my legs in front. Without thinking, I start to kick. Like Merriah learning to swim.
But Clarisse is prepared. She begins binding my legs with the same material she used to tie my wrists.
“Hey, careful with the pants,” I tell her. “They’re one of a kind!”
She chortles. “You’re a riot, girlie.”
She treks across what sounds like a gravel parking lot. When we finally pause, I hear her press some kind of button, resulting in a repetitive beeping sound. After a few moments, gears rotate and metal clangs. I shut my eyes and try to place the noise.
A garage door. She’s brought me to a garage.
The draft hits my bare stomach, and goose bumps spread across my midriff. Clarisse struts forward, dumping my body onto what feels like a wooden chair before adjusting my restraints. Seconds later, I hear the beeping sound again, and heavier footsteps join Clarisse’s.
Based on the wiggling and grunting, it sounds like Nico is still fighting back. Hard.
I roll my eyes beneath my bag.
Men—all struggle, no strategy.
Once Nico is safely secured to a chair that I assume is right next to mine, Thomas huffs, clearly out of breath. “What?” he asks, his tone defensive. “That boy is heavier than he looks.”
“Sure,” Clarisse snorts. “You get the watch?”
He whistles a high-pitched tune. “You know it. This little baby should make for some sweet pocket change at the pawn. Just need to file off the serial. You ready to make the exchange?”
“Got all the dominoes in a line. There’s nothing left to do but blow. Harry wasn’t happy, but he was heading in this direction anyway. I’m sure the crew will find a way to make it worth our while.”
Harry.
Who the hell are these two dummies working for? I figured them for two idiots running petty schemes like pickpocketing and shoplifting. I mean, it’s clear that kidnapping is not exactly their forte. But they know what they’re doing to a degree. It just never occurred to me that they could be small cogs in a much larger machine.
Well, until they singled out Nico. And brought up some mysterious “bets” I seem to be the only one to know nothing about.
