Page 26 of Special Agent Murphy

Chapter Eighteen

Misti woke up in a dark room, her body feeling heavy, and her head reeling from a hangover of all hangovers. The harsh, disgusting taste in her mouth reminded her of the anesthetic sourness after her appendix operation a few years ago.

She moaned and found it difficult to swallow. Wetting her chapped lips, she felt the bleeding cracks, and her mind screamed for water.

Moving took forethought; it didn’t come easy. She soon realized it was because she’d been tied down to a bed of sorts. It felt small, like a cot, and the room she sensed around her seemed confined too. Once her eyes adjusted to the little bit of light that came through the window near the ceiling, what felt like a cell looked to be about the size of a bathroom.

She turned her head slightly and realized it was a bathroom. One where they’d added her bed. A sink and toilet totaled the rest of the furnishings.

The heavy beating of her heart increased during her inspection to where the screams in her head became nightmarish. Everything inside her wanted to release her fear by voicing it as loudly as humanly possible. But her brain told her to shut up. Don’t bring those monsters back.

As long as she was alone, she was safe. It was only when the others were with her that she had something to panic over.

She pulled her numb arms out from under her and saw the ties on her wrists were actual chains that were attached to a ring in the wall. She had one blanket covering her. It smelled faintly of vomit and musty odors that made her worry she’d soon be making it worse. Throwing it to the floor, she shuddered.

Daddy help me!

Her first clear thought went to her father, the man who’d always been there for her during the worst moments of her life. When she’d come to in the hospital, he’d been holding her hand, whispering about how strong she was, how beautiful his little girl was and how much he loved her.

The intensity of her craving started a sob building way back in her throat, reminding her of how she’d fallen asleep the night before. After they’d dragged her into the room, slapped her to stop her arguing and warned her she’d be toast if she said one more word, she’d finally collapsed in a pitiful state.

It took both men to pick up her off the floor where she’d slumped and lift her onto the bed. The needle she saw coming towards her sent her screams to a new intensity. The resulting slap stopped that nonsense.

Praying, pleading with them, she tried to explain she never did drugs, hated them. Imploring them not to inject it went unheard. Last thing she remembered was being released from all her worries while floating away on a cloud of pure joy.

Now apprehension returned and with it came sheer terror. What happened? Why did they want to hurt her? Cowering into a fetal position, she let the tears flow. As she agonized over her prospects, she prayed to be left alone, but knowing she couldn’t survive unless someone saved her.

Time passed and the call of nature woke her from her fitful naps. Sitting up, ignoring her body’s trembling, she lowered her feet to the floor. Don’t make any noise. Carefully moving the chains around her ankles, she crept the couple of feet to the toilet and closed the top rather than flushing. Then she made her way two feet over to the sink for water, thankful that it worked.

Taking a few minutes, she saw the only items left for her use – a facecloth that she wetted and washed her face with, a bar of soap like the kind hotels doled out and a small towel that looked frayed. It was the pitiful sum of the articles for her use. Not even a glass to drink from. Instead, she cupped her hands and eventually gave it up to get her water directly from the tap. She wetted an edge of the towel and scrubbed at her teeth and then surveyed the space.

Dim, no light other than what seeped through the blinds at the meager window above, her disgust with her surroundings increased. With no way to get close to it, she couldn’t even look out and try to see around the outside.

Inside, the glossy green paint on the walls had peeled off in spots and the gray tile flooring had certainly seen better days. Remembering her own delightful white and lime green bathroom with it’s wide mirrors under the crystal lights, heated floors and walk-in shower with a rain forest faucet that gave one the feeling of being under a waterfall, another sob broke loose.

She’d never appreciated her luxurious existence before; her loving family and the lifestyle she’d taken for granted. Suddenly repenting her selfishness, a yearning grew, and a promise took shape. She’d never again accept her blessings with such an immature, entitled belief that they were her due.

Dear Mother Mary, please help me. I promise I’ll never be a spoiled brat again. I’ll use my brains to help others. Like my dad, I’ll care about people, do my best to make the world a better place. The prayer became her mantra and helped her settle when she curled into a fetal position on the bed, hoping no one would enter, unless it was to save her.

***

Again, she woke to voices. Gina! She remembered her. Had she come to help? No! Coming back to the reality of her fate, she knew Gina was an enemy. Her and Draper both. They wanted to harm her. It was the other man, the one who’d held her in the back seat of the car, and whispered for her to be still, not to be scared.

That devil had put the first needle into her arm.

What had they said the night before? She wracked her brain trying to remember the words screamed behind the closed door.

Yes, she remembered. Gina had been frantic because an FBI agent had chased them to the car and then had followed them for a while before they’d lost him.

The girl in the restroom at the bar. Filtered memories started to take shape. A female had come out of the stall, and when she’d washed her hands, she’d twisted to throw the towel into the bin. They’d caught eyes in the mirror, and Misti remembered seeing a badge peeking from the waist of her pants just under the jacket.

She’d been drawn to the woman and had the strangest premonition she’d wanted to stay with her. When Gina’d tried talking her into going out back, she’d hesitated, even began fighting to stay with Ryan. That’s about the time she’d seen the same female agent battling to help her.

She shook off her memories and listened carefully to Gina’s shrill voice as she let off steam.

“You promised this would be an easy crime, non-violent, a quick way to make ten thousand. After a few days, we’d take the girl back, walk away, free and clear.”

“Yeah, missy. We all wanted that result, but shit happens. Things don’t always turn out the way it’s planned.”

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