Page 62 of Along for the Ride

“Good girl, Lee. You’re always more pliable when you’re high.”

George lets out a laugh and slaps a hand on Mickey’s shoulder, then they all exit the room. As my head begins to swim a few minutes later, I can only think of Gentry and Karson. When I was with them, I no longer craved pills or escapes. I was happy. I found freedom. Now I’m caged again.

I sink to the floor. “Please hurry,” I whisper before I close my eyes and slip beneath the waves.

Gentry. Karson. I want them. I trust them. I need them to save me again, to set me free.

* * *

My eyes crackopen as an immense weight presses down on my body. So heavy. I turn my head and glance out the window. It’s still dark outside, but the moon has hardly moved across the sky. I haven’t been out for very long, but enough time has passed to leave me feeling incredibly disoriented and confused. What did Mickey give me? Something stronger than I’m used to, that’s for sure.

Metal digs into my wrists as my arms strain backward. I try to jiggle them against the pole, but everything happens in slow motion—a disconnect between my movements and my brain.

A rough grasp pulls my chin downward. The weight above me is George, and my thighs are spread around him. As if trying to scream underwater, my mouth opens and produces a silent cry. His fingers dig into my thighs as I try to kick at him.

“Morning,” he says as he leans over and squeezes my cheeks, forcing me to close my mouth.

I can’t even feel him between my legs. I’m either too high or he’s too small. I only feel the thump of his hips slamming into me. The familiarity is too much. My stepfather is dead, but George is a reincarnation of the worst kind. Just like Martin, he has stolen my voice. He has silenced me.

I’m so fucking tired. Every breath takes too much out of me. I gather enough strength to pull my face away from his grasp, but my head only lolls to the side. A lamp across the room catches my eye, and the light blurs as I try to focus on its tasseled shade. I move my gaze to the mahogany desk beneath it, but it all blurs until it’s just an array of colors and shapes in the distance.

Am I going to die? Am I about to overdose with this bag of old bones inside me?

When I think my situation can’t get any worse, words come from somewhere far away from me. “Your turn,” George says as he climbs off me.

One of the guards kneels and brings his face close to mine. I shrink away from his warm breath, but my disgust doesn’t deter him. He lifts my thighs and hooks them over his knees.

And it starts again.

ChapterTwenty-Six

Karson

I’m not showing it like Gentry, but Iamupset about this. It’s fucked up. We tried to keep her in the car to protect her from us. Protect her from our job. If we’d taken her with us, she’d be safe right now.

“G?”

“Don’t, Karson. Don’t speak unless you’re giving directions to George’s place.”

I open my mouth and close it again. I’d normally push him a little further, annoy him a little more, but he’s beyond the point of no return. If I even opened that bag of chips between us, he’d slice my jugular with his knife.

I don’t know what else to say. I can’t fix it. Even though it’s not my fault, I can’t make him believe me. I can only help get her back and let Gentry learn the truth so he can stop being so pissed off. He has no choice but to work with me in ways we haven’t worked together in years. We used to know the exact move the other would make, like a fucked-up dance. Serial synchronization. For once in a very long time, he needs my help, and as much as it sucks, it’s a chance to prove I’m notas muchof a fuck up as he thinks.

My stomach grumbles and sends a hunger pang through my insides. “Do you think we should stop to eat?” I ask.

He glances at me.

I’m not being annoying, I’m starving.

“No. I won’t stop for a single fucking thing until we get there. Every extra minute she’s with George—” His hands tighten around the wheel in a death grip. The thing fucking squeals, and I worry he’s about to snap it in half.

“Alright.” I take the risk and pluck the bag of chips from the center console. The cellophane screams like a jet engine in this silent space, so I snatch the bag open and bring a single chip to my mouth.

But Gentry reaches over and smacks it out of my hand.

“Dude, chill!” I say. “I want to find her too. She’s grown on me, believe it or not, but I’m still a human being and I need to eat. And piss.”

“We can’t.”

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