Total pages in book: 59
Estimated words: 54706 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 274(@200wpm)___ 219(@250wpm)___ 182(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 54706 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 274(@200wpm)___ 219(@250wpm)___ 182(@300wpm)
Devin shook the pill box again. “Those little delusions of yours will go away as soon as we get where we are going, and you take these.”
“I’m not taking anything. I love Gavril, and I love my baby. I won’t let you hurt any of us.”
He turned his head to the side and ran his tongue along his bottom lip. I could tell he was frustrated, though he was still smiling. Then, without warning, he snapped his head forward and spat on me. It was warm and slimy as it trailed down my cheek, and I tried desperately to wipe it off on my shoulder.
Devin leaned forward, so he was on my level, looking directly into my eyes. I stared back at him, trying to see my brother somewhere inside, trying to see the man I had been willing to sell myself for, trying to find any remnant of the boy I had grown up with, but there was nothing. The man I knew had been eaten up by jealousy and anger and hate. He was gone.
“I have some people coming to take you to the plane. Mom and I will follow closely behind.” He smiled to himself. “I told Mom you had an accident on your vacation and are suffering from memory loss. She thinks we are flying out there to help you get your memories and your personality back. I’ve told her all about your wacky delusions – how you think you’re pregnant and I’ve kidnapped you. She is very concerned.”
“You son of a bitch,” I said, tears threatening to spill over.
Devin shrugged. “But don’t you worry, Sam. We are going to help you. We’re going to make you all better.”
He shoved the pillbox in his back pocket and disappeared through the office door. Alone again, I finally let myself cry.
The door opened ten minutes later, and a man I didn’t recognize walked in. He had deeply tanned skin and a tattoo of a snake around his neck. I tried to talk to him, convince him to free me or at least tell me where I was being taken, but he refused to talk to me. He replaced my blindfold, released me from the chair but retied my hands behind my back, and led me back down the hallway and outside.
He pushed me in the back of a truck – I could tell because it was so high off the ground – and then we took off.
“Where am I going? Who are you?”
No response.
“Devin is lying to you. He is crazy, you know that, right?”
Still no response.
This time, I lost it. I’d been holding it together too long, and it had done nothing for me. I was pregnant and hormonal, and sick and tired of being carted around like worthless cargo. So, I flopped back in my seat and began kicking the back of the driver’s seat as hard as I could.
“Hey, what the fuck?” The man wrapped his arm around the seat and began swinging, connecting with my leg a few times, but I didn’t stop.
“Tell me where you are taking me.”
“Lady, knock it off.”
“I know Gavril Stepanov, and if you don’t let me go, he’ll kill you.”
“You’re going to make me crash.”
If we crashed, the police would show up. I’d be able to explain to them that I had been kidnapped, and then I’d be freed. I kicked even harder. I felt the entire cabin of the truck shaking. My entire body was vibrating with rage and frustration, and it felt good to let it out. I threw my head back and screamed at the top of my lungs, so loud I could barely hear the driver groaning for me to stop.
I continued kicking as the truck pulled to the side of the road and the rumble of the engine stopped. And I continued kicking as the back door opened and the man began clawing at my limbs, trying to get me under control.
“Calm down. Stop it.” He grunted, his meaty hands wrapping around my ankles.
The initial burst of energy was beginning to fade, and I found it more and more difficult to fight back against the man. He grabbed my feet and held them together while he wrapped a length of rope around my ankles.
“You don’t even know what you’re doing,” I said, my anger fading into exhaustion.
“Yes, I do,” the man said, tying my feet together, so I was completely bound like a pig for the slaughter. “I’m getting paid.”
The rest of the drive was uneventful. I laid across the seat and wondered how much my freedom was worth to this man, how much Devin was paying him to transport me around the city.
Ten minutes later, the truck stopped again, and this time the man didn’t bother with the perp walk; he just scooped me into his arms and carried me inside. It was embarrassing and demeaning, but I couldn’t find the energy to care.