I thought I was going to be shot dead, so I just laid there and waited for him to pull the trigger as he pressed his gun harder into the middle of my forehead.  I thought about a lot of things in those few seconds, because I wanted to remember as much as I could about the good things and good people in my life before I died.  My mom came first. I thought about her smile, the way she laughed, and the way she hugged me.  It was the first and only thing that made my attention drift from who I knew was Charlie looming above me.  My Dad came next, with our weekend fishing trips, and the way he had always made me feel like his son, even though we weren’t related by blood.  Then there was Trace, with his wisecracks and all the crazy shit we’d done together.  Then Rachael, with her witty sarcasm, and the way she could sit with me and rub my shoulders, letting me know that she understood the reason why I was moody most of the time.

Of course Shelly came next.

I remembered the love we made, how much I loved to kiss her, and just...hold her.  I remembered the way I felt the first time I ever saw her, how she could brighten my day by simply sitting with me and humming a stupid song that nobody even cared about.  I knew I still loved her.  I knew I wanted to see her again...hold her again.

Maybe that’s why I built up enough courage to snap out of it.

“You kill me and you can kiss your money goodbye,” I managed to say, despite the fact that Charlie’s foot was still pressed against my throat, threatening to crush my windpipe.  “You know that as well as I do.”

He kicked me savagely in the stomach and I groaned loudly in pain, coughing harshly until I tasted blood in my mouth. I looked down at the gravel, and could see little flecks of it gleaming under the bright spotlight.  It couldn’t be good, but I knew it was possible.  He’d kicked me a good six or seven times in the gut, groin, and face since he’d caught us by the gate, and I knew there was plenty more coming at me.  I wanted to fight back, to kick his ass like I’d been dying to since the day he put me in handcuffs, but I was too afraid of his gun to make any sudden movements.  Despite the fact that he wanted money, I knew he was crazy.  Crazy people can take a turn for the worse in the blink of an eye, and I knew it would only take one slip of his finger to shoot me in the head.

So I let him have his way.

The pain has left parts of me completely numb .  I can’t feel my right arm, parts of my left leg, and my entire abdomen is throbbing in pain.  I feel like my entire face has swelled up like some kind of strange tomato.  I’m unable to open one of my eyes, and one is on its way there.  I’d hate to see my reflection right now.  My groin is another story that I won’t get into at the moment, but all I can say is that I’ll be lucky if I can have sex normally after this.

I don’t know where I am now.  Charlie yanked a bag over my head when he was done kicking the crap out of me, and taken back to what I assumed was the house.  I was carried over his shoulder, and eventually shoved down onto a hard surface, which I eventually realized was a chair after some feeling around with the tips of my fingers.  I tried to get up and run despite being blindfolded but I guess Charlie was too swift for me.  The next thing I felt was his gun to my head and he didn’t need to say anything more for me to get the hint that I needed to surrender to him.  He strapped me down to the chair with something, and put me in handcuffs again.  It was only then that the bag was ripped off of my head, and I gasped a little, almost forgetting about his ski mask.  

He’s pretty muscular, almost like I thought he would be, but he’s not very tall.  I think the only thing that makes him intimidating is the gun in his hand and the fact that he’s rendered me helpless.  Otherwise, I’m sure I could take him out.  Hell, when I was younger, I used to get into fist fights with guys twice Charlie’s size.  Only...they didn’t want to kill me.

“What’d you say to her?” Was the first thing he asked me.

“Nothing,” I murmured, knowing it was a lie but not caring either.  What happened between Sam and I was none of his business, and I wasn’t about to give him a reason to do more horrible things to her.  

I was slapped across the face.

“Don’t lie to me,” he said menacingly, as he came closer and put his masked face right in front of my bruised one.  “I know you must have told her something.  Sam isn’t stupid.  She wouldn’t have just tried to help you escape like that, and I want to know what you fucking said to her.”

I’d been trying to put off thinking about her until I could think straight again.  I knew when that guy had hauled her away, that anything could have happened.  I mean...I knew she could have been killed for what she tried to do for me, and it was all my fault for persuading her to help me.  “Where is she?”

“Don’t worry about where she is,” he said.  “Just tell me what I want to know.”

“Did you ever think that maybe she wanted to get away from you?” I asked him darkly.  “You slap her around and treat her like a piece of garbage.  She deserves to be happy.  All I did was point it out to her, and I think I made her realize what she’s been missing out on.”

Naturally, I was dealt more blows because of this.  Charlie knew he was losing.  Even if he did get the money he wanted for me, he knew that Sam wouldn’t love him the way he wanted her to.  It was dangerous.  I knew he could go and kill her if he hadn’t done so already, but I wanted to get my point across.  “You’re going to lose,” I said, coughing harshly once he stopped hitting me again.  “Either way, money or no money, she’ll never really love you.”

He became enraged, holding his gun harshly to my head again, calling me and my mother every name under the sun.  He told me he was going to go to my house and sodomize her or some shit, that he was going to chop me up into little pieces and hand deliver my remains to her.  I remained calm, refused to let him conquer me like that.  I knew I was close to death.  I’d basically accepted the fact that I blew my last chance at escape...that once they got the rest of the money they were after, Charlie would kill me as a bonus.  It was reality, and there was nothing I could do to stop it, so I was going to make my point known while I still could.

After awhile, he gave up trying to talk to me.  I’m sure he was fed up, and knew I wouldn’t do anything else besides piss him off more, so he left me alone.  It took me a really long time to come out of my daze.  I drifted in and out of consciousness due to the beating he gave me.  He hadn’t blindfolded me again, which at first I thought was a blessing, but quickly realized how sick it was actually making me.  The room wouldn’t stop spinning, and the light from above was blinding me, making me feel queasy at the same time.  Eventually, I ended up vomiting all over myself.  It was terrible...worse than being hungover and puking into the toilet.  I was strapped down to the chair, and couldn’t wipe my face or anything.  I prayed for somebody to come, to give me water.  I prayed for Sam...

But nobody has come, and I have no idea if Sam is okay.

This place is like a fucking compound or something.  When we were outside, I couldn’t help but marvel at how big the house and grounds are.  It’s even bigger than my own place, and I know whoever this Adrian guy is, he sure has a lot of money.  I’m assuming he’s a drug lord on top of being a loan shark, and I have a very bad feeling that I’ve been plunged into some very dirty, dangerous waters.  I feel stupid that I screamed for help.  We’re in the middle of a desolate property, and that’s why Charlie brought us here in the first place.  I was just so desperate to escape that I didn’t think things through.  Sam...she just said that she would help me and I jumped at the chance.  What I should have done was sat with her and formulated a plan, but I was blinded by the thought of being in my moms arms again. We were so fucking close to getting out too.  I could see the main road when I stuck my head in between the bars of the gate, and I felt like crying.  It just wasn’t fair.  It was like fate was playing some cruel joke on me.  I mean, a fucking code?  Why couldn’t I have thought of that? Why didn’t Sam think of that?

It’s too late now to point fingers and think about what we both should have done though.  I have to concentrate on what the next step is, find out what’s going on with the ransom.  I heard Charlie and that Adrian guy talking about the money earlier and it didn’t sound good.  Adrian wants more, and he’s willing to take the ten million as a down payment for keeping me alive.  I want to ask him what kind of sick bastard would do that to somebody's family, but I’m sure I’d just receive another swift kick to the gut, and I can’t afford it at this moment in time.

I cough again, closing my eyes and groaning softly when I see the blood land on my filthy shirt.  This is bad, really bad.  Somehow, I have to make myself get better so I can continue to fight, but how the fuck do I do that?  I need water...food, a shower, and a bed.  Hell, probably a doctor too, but I think that might be asking for too much at this point.

I think Sam might have a good idea.

But...Sam isn’t here.

I’m becoming more desperate by the minute, knowing she’s gone, and that’s fucking crazy.  I barely know her.  She’s a drug addicted criminal who happened to catch me at the wrong place at the right time, and it’s her fault that all this has happened.  Why then, is it so damn hard for me to hold her responsible? Why then...did it feel so damn good to kiss her?  Maybe I’m just sick.  Maybe all this captivity I’ve been faced with has made me start to go crazy, and I’m not thinking straight.  Yeah, that’s gotta be it.  I’m sure the moment I’m able to get out of here, and go back home, she’ll be nothing but a distant, horrible memory.

I close my eyes again, and try to rid myself of her memory.  Try to forget about the fact that I’ve come to care about her so much over the matter of a few days.  “Forget her,” I say to myself.  “Fucking forget her.  Do you see where you are? Tied to a chair? Coughing up blood?  Focus on that.  Fucking focus!”

God damn, I’m going insane.

I feel the hot tears on my face and I hate it.  Damn it, I’m so worried about her that it’s making me cry.  Crying is for faggots.  I wish somebody would just come down here and tell me if she’s alive or not.  That way, I can start to live with it, and try to move on if it turns out that she really is dead.  But Charlie wouldn’t allow that.  No...he wants me to suffer like this, not knowing.  He wants me to sweat, get sick, and cry, because hates me.

And he knows that I hate what’s happened to me...to my life.

Nobody has ever controlled me before.  Not even my mother, not completely.  I’ve always respected her of course, but when it’s come to my life, and my decisions, the only person I’ve ever relied on is myself.  Most people get really pissed off at that, even Trace and Rachael, despite the fact that they’re used to it. But now, for the first time in my life, I’m being forced to live by someone else’s rules and commands.  I think out of everything, that’s what’s pissing me off the most.  I feel so damn weak, like a child, and I have to do something.  I know trying to escape is dangerous as hell, but I can’t just sit here and let my life be decided for me.

I still have to fight, despite what’s happened.

I start to struggle for the first time since I was dragged back into the house.  I twist and turn my body against the straps binding me down to the chair, knowing it’s still going to be hard trying to run with my hands cuffed behind me if I get out of this, but not caring at the same time.  Hell, I’m surprised I even have the energy to do this, and I start to wonder what’s keeping me going anymore.  My mouth is dry, and my stomach growls a little bit every now and then.  I have nothing in my system at the moment, and what food I’ve been given has been shit that’s made me feel sick.  Sam meant well of course...

Damn it, I’m not going to think about her.

I start to rock the chair from side to side, having the brilliant idea that if I rock it hard enough, and make myself fall over, that the chair will somehow break and I’ll be able to wriggle free from these restraints.  They’re like buckles that pull tight around my body so I can’t move around...almost like seatbelt buckles.  Those kinds of things that they’d used on somebody in the nut house to strap them to the bed, and all I can think is that Charlie is a sick fucking asshole.  I become angrier as my rocking gets more intense, feeling my face grow hot, the tears threatening to spill out of my swollen eyes.

And then it happens.

My head collides with the hard floor automatically, and I feel intense pain shooting up and down the left side of my head as everything starts to spin again.  

“Great fucking idea.  Now, on top of everything else, you’ve gone and given yourself a concussion.”

I squint my eyes as I peer ahead, knowing that it’s impossible, but not being able to deny what I see despite that.  “Trace?” I whimper.r32;
“What are you doing, Justin?” He snaps, as he starts to pace the room.  “You’re not going to do anything but get yourself killed at the rate you’ve been going, and then what? Everyone is already enough of a mess, and I’m not even going to talk about your mom, because you don’t need anymore stress right now.”

“What the fuck am I supposed to do!” I yell back at him, deliriously.  “Why don’t you stop giving me the third degree and help me out!”

He just glares at me.  “You could get yourself out of this, if you’d stop letting your dick get in the way.”  He crosses his arms and shakes his head at me, something I’m accustomed to seeing whenever I make a stupid ass decision.  “I mean, yeah she’s a pretty girl...nice rack, and I’m sure she’s great in bed, but honestly...you’re fucking kidnapped and she’s a crack head.  Snap out of it!”

Then he’s gone.

“Asshole!”  I yell out, feeling stupid automatically.  Shit...shit...now I’m hallucinating.  I blink a few times, and my vision starts to clear slightly, but not by much.  God, I wish that had been reality.  I wish Trace were here.  The crazy thing is, he probably would have said all of that to me right now, only he would have been getting me out of this chair at the same time.  I probably shouldn’t be wishing he was here though.  That would mean he’d be a part of this whole thing too, and I’d never want to wish this kind of a thing on anyone.

Well, except for Charlie, but that’s completely different.

The pounding in my head gets more intense, as I painstakingly try to maneuver myself towards the door.  This isn’t the same room as before, I’ve known that from the time I was locked in here.  I think it used to be a bedroom.  It has nice hardwood flooring that I’m scratching up with the chair, but no windows.  There’s no furniture either, only emptiness that makes me feel even more alone, but for some reason it’s giving me more of a boost to get out of here.  Getting out that door will bring me closer to finding out what happened to Sam.  I can help her.  I can get to her, she can take my handcuffs off, and we can try to find another way out of this place together.  This time we’ll be more prepared...we won’t let Charlie and his gun intimidate us.

Yeah.

It seems like hours go by before I end up literally inches from the door.  I breathe in and out heavily, surprised by the fact that I haven’t passed out from sheer exhaustion.  Once I get some more stamina, I start to knock part of the chair against the wall with my body.  It barely does anything besides make a lot of unwanted noise and I start to lose hope, really fast.  Then...footsteps.  Someone is coming closer and closer, and I’m sure it’s probably Charlie.  If I’m right, and he walks in on me like this, I can only imagine how angry he’ll be.  I’ll be kicked, punched, and cussed out all over again.

Only this time, I doubt I’ll be able to handle it.  

I lie completely still as I hear keys being inserted into the locks on the outside of the door.  Not that it matters if I’m still or not, but I guess the fear is simply paralyzing me.  Fuck, I hate that I’m this scared of Charlie.  He’s such a fucking punk, and no match for me in the real world but yet he’s in complete control of me.  I gotta snap out of it.

But how?

The door opens, and I watch the masked gunman enter the room with wide eyes.  I think I stop breathing for a moment or two.  It’s not Charlie.  No, it can’t be.  This person is much shorter, but still really muscular.  My heart starts to race.  He’s a stranger, and a stranger could have only been sent in here for one purpose... to shoot me dead.  “Please,” I say pathetically.  “I can get him more money.  I swear I can.”

He crouches down beside me and sighs heavily.  “Just relax.  I’m not going to hurt you.”  He reaches up and removes his ski mask, and I’m completely shocked.  “Just stay quiet for now.  I’ll help you up.”

He’s really young, probably just around my age, or a couple of years behind.  A muscular African American kid, medium height, with a shaved head and a gun that looks more intimidating in his hand than Charlie’s does when he points it at me.  With a grunt and a groan he pulls the chair back to its upright position, and I can’t say anything to him.  I feel completely defeated now.  It took hours to get that close to the door and now I’ve been shot down all over again.  “Who are you?” I whisper as he backs away from me. “Where’s Sam?”

“She’s around,” he tells me, ignoring my first question as he pulls a small bottle of water out of his pocket and unscrews the cap.  “Drink now, questions later.”

I do as he says, eagerly guzzling down the small amount of water in a matter of seconds.  Strangely enough, I’m not afraid of this guy at all, despite the fact that he’s working for Adrian and he’s friends with Charlie.  Something about him is calming me down, telling me that I don’t have to worry as long as he’s around, and I know that’s a positive thing.  “Thanks,” I manage to say.

He nods.  “You’re beat to shit.  How’s your breathing?”

I don’t have a clue as to why he would care.  Maybe Sam sent him to check on me or something, and I start to get hope back that she’s doing just fine.  “I’m okay I guess, just in a lot of pain.”

“Yeah well, you were stupid to do what you did.”

I ignore his statement and simply focus on the current situation.  “Why...why are you helping me?”r32;

“Look,”  he takes a moment to glance over his shoulder before reaching into the back pocket of his pants and pulling out a little black wallet, unfolding it to reveal a shiny metal police badge.  “I’m a cop.  My name is Alex Williams to you, Trevor to everyone under this roof.”

My eyes widen and my heart starts to race.  Fuck, I’m saved.  “Shit, get me out of here.  Get me out of here, please,” I whimper, giving him a desperate look.  “Untie me.”

“It’s not that simple,” He whispers.  “As of right now, nobody knows about this but you, and you gotta keep your mouth shut, especially to Sam.  I can’t just take you out of here.  They’ll know right away, and we’ll both be dead.”

I start to cry like a fool, because the situation is so fucked up.  Here he is, a cop, and yet...I still can’t go home.  “This is fucking stupid.  You might as well kill me now.”r32;
“Stop it,” he grunts.  “Man up, Justin.  I know this is a shitty situation, but I’m here to help you.  I went and saw your family early this morning, and they know what’s going on. My task force back at the base and I are working out a plan, and we’re going to get you home safe, but you have to play your part too.”

I stop crying.  I know it’s not helping anything, and this guy is right...I have to be strong and play along with this whole thing if I expect to get out of here.  I can have hope now, I know that.  I know he’s smart and he’s going to do what he has to do so I can go home.  “How did you find me?”

He laughs.  “Funny thing is, you found me.  I’ve been working undercover here for five years, trying to bust this fuckin’ drug ring.  You can imagine how ecstatic my Sergeant is about this whole thing.  If I play my cards  right, I might crack two cases in one, and get to have some kind of a life again.”

That’s great for him, and maybe if I wasn’t in so much pain and under so much pressure I’d be able to be happy for him, but as of right now I don’t give a shit about his life or his career.  The only thing I can think about are the facts. He’s a cop, I’m tied to a chair, and yet he still can’t get me out of here yet.  That means I still have a chance of being killed, and I don’t understand how my luck could be running this badly.  “So what...you’re just going to take a gamble, and hope I don’t get shot in the head?” I grumble.

“There’s supposed to be a money exchange tomorrow,” he tells me, seriously.  “We have a plan in the works, and I just need you to sit tight until then.  Don’t give them anymore problems, all right?”

I take in a long breath so I don’t start yelling at him.  I know it wouldn’t be the best idea, especially because I know Charlie might be able to hear me.  “Fine,” I nod.  “I...I’ll figure out how to make the best of this I guess.”

He pats me on the shoulder.  “I’m sorry that I can’t do more for you right now,” he says solemnly, as he pulls the ski mask back over his face.  “You sure that you’re breathing okay?”

I nod a little.  “I’ll make it,” I tell him.  “But what about Sam?”

“Forget about her,” he says, in a disgusted tone.  “She’s as bad as the rest of these assholes, and I’ll make sure she stays away from you, so she can’t fuck with your head anymore.”

I shake my head roughly, knowing that Alex is going to think I’ve gone off the deep end but not caring at the same time.  “I have to see her again.”

“You’re confused,” he says, sadly.  “And I’m sorry Justin, but you’ll thank me later. I promise.”

He starts to walk away from me, but I can’t just settle for that answer.  I have to know that she’s going to be okay.  That nobody is going to hurt her, or worse.  “Wait! I need to know if she’s going to be okay!”

He pauses at the door, and lets out a long sigh as he turns his gaze back to me.  “She’ll be okay,” he nods.  “You can trust me.”

“All right.”  

He nods once more before walking out the door and locking it again.  A sense of relief washes over me, but not because of the fact that a cop is under the same roof as I am.  It’s because I know she’s going to be okay.  Alex is going to watch over her, and I’ve never been more thankful for anything in my life.  I smile just a little, but it hurts my face too much so I let it fade.  My eyes begin to close a few minutes later, and I know I’m exhausted from falling over before.  I try to keep them open, and continue to struggle pathetically against the straps, but it’s pointless.  I allow myself to drift off after that, but I keep waking up every few minutes because my head will droop too far, or I’ll start to have some crazy dream.  It’s horrible, I can’t even sleep this way, and part of me is hoping that Charlie will come in and drug me again so I can have some peace.

But that doesn’t happen.

I hear lots of footsteps and voices outside the room, what seems like hours later.  I recognize Charlie’s voice, along with Adrian’s, but their voices are too muffled to pick out a clear conversation.  Then I hear the door being unlocked again, and my heart starts to pound furiously in my chest.  God, I’m terrified.  I don’t want to be kicked around, or have a gun shoved in my face anymore.

I start to cry and I can’t even control it anymore.

I recognize Charlie despite his ski mask as he bursts the door open and rushes into the room.  My body goes tense, pressing itself into the chair as if I could be protected this way.  “What...”

He slaps me and I groan a little.  “Just shut up.”  He unscrews the cap to a bottle of water and presses it to my lips.  “Drink and don’t get smart.”

I nod, sending him a hateful glare despite the fact that I could get a swift blow to the gut for it, as I allow the cool liquid to enter my mouth.  I hate that he’s smiling as he watches me.  He feels great knowing that he has control...that he knows so much about my personal life...about my family and friends.  It’s none of his fucking business, and he’s a sick enough bastard that he probably takes pride in having complete control of my personal life.  

He allows me to drink my fill, which is really unlike him, but I don’t question his motives.  He walks around the back of my chair once he screws the bottle cap back on and makes sure to tighten the straps that are holding me down to the chair.  “When is this going to end,” I mutter.

“Don’t ask questions.  You’re lucky that you’re still alive, after the shit you pulled.  If it was up to me you’d be dead and buried already,” Charlie grunts.  “Now just sit there, and shut up.”  

He walks away, and flicks off the light before leaving the room.  It’s pitch fucking black, and I feel even worse than I did before.  The best thing to do is sleep, and I know that, but I just can’t do it.  I’m terrified, hungry, and in a lot of fucking pain.  I squeeze my eyes shut and try to think of a better place, a better time, anything at all...

“Fifty bucks says you ain’t got shit.”

I let out a cocky laugh, and throw more chips into the middle of the table.  “Try me, Ayala.”

He smirks, shifting the green visor on his head as he leans back in his chair.  “So debonair, Justin.”

“Did you just say, debonair?” Rachael throws her head back and cackles.  “You’re such a fag, Trace.”

“Fag ain’t the word,” I say, my laughter nearly overpowering my words.  “Debonair, shit.”

“Read ‘em and weep,” Trace says, shrugging off our laughter as he lays his hand down on the table.  “And Justin, you know what’s going to happen when you lose.”

“What?” Rachael asks.  

I roll my eyes.  “I never agreed to that.”

Trace just snickers devilishly.  “A deal is a deal.”

“What? Tell me!” Rachael exclaims.  “I want to be in on the gossip.”

“Jason and I are setting Justin up on a blind date,” Trace informs her with a smile.  “Cool idea right?”

“Are you kidding?” Rachael scoffs.  “That poor girl...”r32;

I throw a pretzel at her head.  “Fuck you, Rach.”  I lay my cards out on the table, only now taking notice of  Trace’s hand.  I go numb inside.  That motherfucker has four aces.  How the hell did he get four aces?  “You must have cheated,” I grumble.  “You just want me to make an ass out of myself on this stupid date.”

“Actually, I didn’t cheat,” Trace smiles stupidly at us both, and sweeps all the chips over to his side of the table.  “Just luck, I guess.  But now, I get all the spoils.”r32;

“This girl could be crazy,” I tell him.

“Oh come on,” Rachael says, nudging me in the arm.  “Give it a chance.  You need to get out and date more, you know.  It’s not like you’re working right now.  Your mom thinks you and Trace are turning into a couple of hermits.”

“I’m not a hermit,” I groan, scratching the thick beard on my face.  “Trace and I are experimenting.”

“I’m shaving it next week,” Trace tells her.  “I look like a fucking forest man or something.  Elisha is starting to hate it, and I can’t have that happening.”

“You didn’t tell me you were shaving it, Trace,” I say.

“Well now you know,” he laughs.  “Come on dude, it’s getting old.”

“He’s right, Justin,” Rachael agrees.  “You look like a fucking hillbilly.  I wont’ let you go on a date looking like you do.”r32;

“I’m not going on a date.”r32;

“Yes you are,” she smiles.

“No.”r32;

“You’re going,” Trace says.  “You lost the game and that was the agreement.”

I really hate them both.

“Her name’s Shelly, I’ve met her before, don’t worry,” Trace reassures me as he begins to shuffle the deck of cards.  “I wouldn’t set you up with some weirdo.”

“You would,” I glare.  “Just to get a laugh.”

“Wake up, reject,” Rachael drones.

I look at her, not really understanding why she’s changed her attitude so suddenly.  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I said wake up!” She reaches across the table and shakes me hard.  

“Wake the fuck up.”

My eyes snap open, and I find that I’m face to face with a masked gunman once again, there’s only one major difference.  I’m not strapped to that chair anymore.  Instead, I’ve been situated on the floor in the middle of Adrian’s gigantic living room, one ankle chained to the coffee table in the center of it, hands cuffed in front of me.  I start to tremble.  I don’t like this at all, and I have no idea what’s in store for me now.

“Is he awake?”

I’m kicked in the gut and I know it’s Charlie that’s been standing above me.  I cough and wheeze as I feel my body collide with the floor once more.

“Yeah,” Charlie laughs.  “Now he is.”

Footsteps make their way towards me, and when he crouches down next to me, I get the first glimpse at the son of a bitch who’s taken control of this entire situation.   Adrian is older, a few years past middle aged and has the gray in his hair to show it.  He’s clean cut, closely shaven with his hair slicked back.  He’s rich, all about business, and doesn’t take any shit.  He pulls out a gun and snickers a little as he pops out the barrel and spins it a couple of times in front of my face.  “So, I heard you decided to be a little bold yesterday.”

Yesterday? Fuck, how long did I pass out for?  I stare up at him but I don’t answer, because I’m too fucking scared.

“That wasn’t smart, Justin,” he says to me quietly.  “I hope you know that, and taking our pretty little Sam with you...well, I just don’t know what to say.  I think some pay back is in order here, don’t you?”

“What do you want?” I grit my teeth as I say the words to him, trying my best not to flip out, because that gun in his hand is scaring the shit out of me.  “Just tell me how much, and I’ll give it to you. Please...just let me go.”

He laughs at me and it rattles me to the core.  It’s filled with pure evil, as if he has no intentions of letting me go at all.  “I have an idea.  I’ll call and you make up a number and tell your sweet mommy how much more you need her to get.  How’s that sound?  If I don’t like it, I’ll just have my friend here kick you in the junk.”

“Can’t you just tell me how much?” I groan as I watch him dial.

“Make sure it’s up there,” he chuckles as he presses the phone and his gun to my head at the same time.  “You’re a smart kid.  You nearly figured your way out of here, right?”

I just nod, and wait for the inevitable to happen.

“Hello.”

It’s my mom.  I guess that Trace has decided to step aside for now, but I’m not sure who’s decision that was.  I wonder if it was Alex’s? I wonder if he’s there right now in my house with my dogs and my friends and my family.  I wonder if he’s told them that I’m doing okay, just to give them some hope.  I pray to God that I’m right.  “Mom.” I whisper.  

“Justin...”

“Mom they...they want more.”

“What?”

“Fifty more,” I say, looking up at Adrian and praying that it’s enough.  “Fifty million.  I...I love you...”

“Justin we’re getting you out of there, do you hear me? Tomorrow, tomorrow...”

I receive a pat on the back as the phone is pulled away from my ear, and I’m silenced by Adrian’s hand over my mouth as he begins to speak into the mouthpiece again.  “I warn you, Mrs. Harless, I’m not one to fuck around.  Tell those goons of yours that I want my money the way we determined it the other day, or else you’re going to get Justin here sent back to you in bits and pieces.”

He hangs up and snickers as he takes his hand away from my mouth.  I feel the rage begin to boil inside of me, hearing him talk to my mom that way literally making me want to kill him.  “You mother fucker,” I sneer.  “Why are you doing this?”

“Because it’s a sick world and I’m entitled to what I want if it I can get it,” he informs me.  “Now go be a good kid, and maybe we won’t have to hurt you as much, huh?”  He looks at Charlie and nods to him.  “Get him out of here.”

Charlie begins to unlock my foot from the chain attaching it to the table, and I look back at Adrian as he walks away, knowing that it’s stupid but figuring that maybe..maybe since I did a good job on the phone that he’ll cut me a little slack.  “Let me see Sam,” I call out to him.  “Please.”

I’m punched in the gut by Charlie and it literally knocks the wind out of me.  I cough and roll over on my side again, trying to catch my breath.

“Stupid asshole,” he grunts at me.  “What a stupid thing to say.”

“Relax.” I hear Adrian say, and when I open my eyes again, he’s standing over me, his hand placed on Charlie’s shoulder so he won’t kick me again.  “If that’s what he wants, then just put him in there with her.  They’re not going anywhere.”

“But, boss...”

“Do it,” he sneers.  “Kids going to be dead in a day or two, so why do you care?  Let him have his cheap thrill for the time being.”

I shudder and close my eyes, the reality of my future hitting me dead on, telling me that I really...I really don’t have a chance now.  

I’m yanked to my feet moments later, and pushed down another hallway.  Charlie is spitting shit in my ear the entire time about how much of a fucking asshole I am, and he’ll be glad when I’m dead.  That he’s planning it all, and it’s not going to be quick or painless.  I try to ignore it.  I try to just think of Sam, think about if she’s going to be happy to see me.  

He opens a door and throws me inside the room.  Sam is passed out on the floor, her hands cuffed behind her back, and all I can think about is how it’s my fault.  My fault for convincing her it was safe to run.  My fault for not thinking of a better plan.  

I have a feeling that I’m not going to be the only one that’s shot dead in the end of this.

Charlie makes sure to cuff my hands behind me before he leaves, not hesitating to remind me not to give Sam anymore ideas, or else.  I send him a mental fuck you as he slams the door and locks us in.  Then...my attention immediately goes to Sam.  Her face has fresh bruises, and she looks like she’s been through a lot in the time that she’s been “away”.  “Sam.” I say, inching myself closer to her so I can try and nudge her awake.  “Sam...it’s me.”

She doesn’t wake, doesn’t stir, and I start to wonder if she’s been drugged.  “Sam,” I say louder this time.  “Sam!”

Her eyes begin to flutter after a moment, and I know she’s coming around.  Then, she opens them completely, staring back at me with sad, dead eyes.  “Justin,” she says weakly.  “Justin?”

“Yeah,” I say, my voice trembling.  “Sam...I...I’m so sorry.”

She does the best she can to lean against the wall and shift herself upright, her eyes squinting in the brightness of the room.  “How long has it been?” She questions me.

“I...I don’t know.  A day or two,” I nod.  “What...what happened to you?”

She shakes her head.  “Charlie just...he lost it and Adrian said I couldn’t be trusted so they decided this would be best...”  She trails off and gazes into my eyes.  “Did they give you any coke?  Do you have anything?”

I suck in a breath, because I hate what she’s going through.  I can see a spot on the floor where she obviously got sick, and I’m sure she’s going through some kind of withdrawal.  “I don’t,” I whisper.  “Here...slide closer and lean into me.”

“No...” she shakes her head roughly and curls up against the wall.  “I just...I need my drugs.  Please tell them.”

She’s delirious.  This isn’t the Sam I’ve come to know at all, and now more than ever I can tell why Alex thinks the way he does about her.  She’s hopelessly addicted to drugs, and when they get taken away she turns into a nightmare.  It means that the girl I think I know isn’t real at all. It’s just a drugged up version of who she probably used to be and I need to get my head straightened out really quick.  “Sam, look...I know...you’re better than the drugs,” I say, trying to sound reassuring.  “I know what kind of a person you are, and...you’re not a bad one.”

“My brother...you know, he always told me I had my head in the clouds,” she says, smiling up at the ceiling as she says the words to me.  “I never listened to him, and then...then when he went missing, I just got lost in Charlie.  He was right, Justin, you know?  I never paid attention, and now...now I go and fuck up our escape plan.  We’re both gonna die.”

“Samantha.”

Her head snaps to attention, and I know it’s the first time I’ve said her full name.  I mean, she never told me that it was, but I’m assuming it is.

“How do you know that?”

“I figured it out,” I say, with a small chuckle.  “Now, would you please listen to me?”

She starts to sob uncontrollably and I can’t do anything to comfort her because of these fucking handcuffs.  “Sam look, all isn’t lost,” I say, trying to break through to her.  I know I shouldn’t tell her because...because Alex is trusting me to keep my mouth shut, but I just can’t help it.  Sam isn’t how Alex thinks she is at all.  She deserves better, she deserves to live, and I...I need to give her this little bit of hope.  “You know Trevor?”

She suddenly stops crying and looks up at me.  “How do you know about Trevor?”

“I just...he came and talked to me after they caught us and put me back in the house,” I tell her quickly.  “I’m not supposed to tell you this but...but I want to.”

“What?”

“He’s a cop, Sam.”

She gasps.  “What do you mean?”

“A cop.  He’s been doing undercover work and...”

“I need to tell Charlie!” She exclaims.  “Oh my god.  And...and he’ll give me the drugs because he’ll be so happy that I told him.  CHARLIE!!” She screams.  

I barrel into her to keep her from screaming and she struggles underneath my weight.  It’s hard to keep her this way.  I can’t move my hands so I have to use all my body strength and I don’t have much of it left.  “Sam stop it,” I bark at her.  “You want to get us killed? This is the way to do it.”

“But...but he’s a cop,” she cries.  “He’ll take us to jail.”

“No, he’ll take Charlie to jail.   You’re a victim too now Sam.  You’re innocent.”

“I’m not,” she sobs.  “I took you here, I made you suffer. I’m not, I’m not, I’m not.”

I roll over onto my back and gasp for air.  She’s not screaming anymore, just sobbing again and I guess that’s okay for now.  Shit, maybe I shouldn’t have told her...but...but I think she’ll keep quiet.  I think she’s terrified right now, and she wants Charlie to forgive her so she thought that telling him about “Trevor” would be a good idea, but I think I’ve talked her down.  That’s a great thing too.  I don’t want to be moved again.  If that happens, they’ll have a harder time finding me, and...I could very well be dead before they could locate us.  “Promise me you’ll keep it a secret, Sam.”

She doesn’t look at me.  “I can’t.”

“You can,” I tell her, determined to get her to listen to me. “Charlie doesn’t care about you.  Look at you.  He hit you, he put you in handcuffs.  You fucking look like me now.  How could he possibly love you?”

“He’s all I have.”  She presses her face into the corner of the wall and sobs into it.  “You know that.”

“You have me,” I tell her, trying to overcome all the bullshit that’s floating through my head so I can be stronger for her right now.  It’s uncanny, ridiculous.  If my mom knew she’d probably find a way to come here and shoot Sam herself.  It’s like...it’s like I’m fucking in love or something.  That’s how I feel.  I don’t even care what happens to me anymore.  Seeing her like this is is telling me how much I have to get her out of here, that she deserves a second chance.  “Sam, you hear that? You have me, okay?  Charlie is a fucking piece of shit, and I’m going to get us out of here.”

“How?” She whimpers.  “Justin...you saw what it’s like outside okay, and they caught us.  They caught us and we aren’t going anywhere.”

“They made me call my mom and ask for more money,” I inform her.  “There’s still time.  We can figure this out.”

“There’s nothing to figure out,” she says, weaker than ever this time.  She curls up into a ball on the floor in the corner of the room and closes her eyes again.  “I’m sorry, Justin.  I’m sorry I couldn’t fix this.”

“Sam...”

“You’re the greatest friend I’ve ever had,” she tells me softly.  “Just remember that.”

My eyes begin to sting with tears and I have to look away from her in case she decides to open her eyes again.  How the fuck did it come to this? One moment it was just Charlie and Sam, in the middle of nowhere, inside a smelly fucking trailer, and now Sam and I are under the control of some evil fucking drug lord.  It’s like some kind of really fucked up dream that I can’t wake myself up from.

And as much as I try to maintain my hope right now, as much as I’m happy that I can at least talk to Sam again, I have the strangest feeling that things are going to be worse in just a few hours.  That my time is running out very rapidly, and Sam’s is too.  Unless a miracle happens...unless Alex fixes things and formulates a plan like he promised that he would, I just don’t know what’s going to happen.

Maybe it will be just like Adrian said.

Maybe I will be dead in a couple of days anyway.

Maybe I should get my cheap thrills in now...fuck Sam, because hell...I love her and we’re not going anywhere.

Yeah.

I love her.

I’ll get these cuffs off and have sex with her right here.

We should get married, go to the islands and get real tan.

Trace could come.

Rachael too.

I smile.

“Sam.”

“Justin.”

“You know, I wanted to kiss you.”

“I wanted to kiss you too.”

“When we get out of here lets get married and go to the islands.”

“I hear its nice there.”

“We used to go off the coast of the Caimans every summer,” I say, with a crazy little chuckle.  “It’ll be fun to go with you.
r32;“I’ll wear my wedding dress on the beach.”

“Okay.”

“Justin.”

“Yeah, girl?”

“They...oh my god...Justin shut up and look in my pockets.”

“Why?  I thought we were having a good time.”

“Just do it.”

I painstakingly lift myself off the floor and walk over to her, sliding myself down the wall so I can be right next to her.  She wriggles her body closer to my hands when I turn around, and I reach into one of her back pockets with my fingers. Something small and metallic slides against them, and my heart skips a beat.  The key.  The fucking key.  They never took it off her.  “Holy fuck.”r32;

“Shh...just take it out of my pocket.”

Somehow she managed to get her mind off the drugs and remember the key, and I could fucking kiss her again.  I wriggle my fingers around and pry the key out of her pants, and it jingles as it hits the floor.  I quickly retrieve it, and Sam and I work together, back to back, getting each others handcuffs off.

It works.

It fucking works.

I wrap my arms around her and we hold each other for a long time.  “I thought you were gone,” I whisper to her gently.  “I didn’t know what happened to you.”

“I thought they killed you.  Charlie said that they killed you so I just...I broke down and and then I started to feel so sick because I couldn’t have my coke.  Charlie came in to check on me and I just went off on him.  I tried hitting him...I tried to get away again, so he handcuffed me and said that he wasn’t on my side anymore.  Justin what are we going to do?”

“Shh.”  She’s sobbing heavily into me now, and I stroke her hair gently.  How fucked up of him to say that shit to her.  I’ll kill him.

I will.

“I’ll dig a tunnel with the end of my handcuffs and we’ll escape.” I say, knowing it’s a great plan.  “You can help Sam. It won’t take long.”

 She pulls away from me suddenly and looks at me curiously.  “Justin are you okay?”r32;
“Yeah, of course.” I say, picking up the cuffs that lie on the floor and starting to scratch at the hardwood with them.  “Come on, I’m getting us out of here.”

I dig and dig but the floor just won’t come apart.  I feel the tears floating down my face but I don’t know why, because I’m not crying.  I’m not.

“Justin.”

Her hand falls onto my chafed wrist, but I push it away.  “Come on,” I say, half sobbing.  “We’re getting close.”

“Justin look at me.”

I stop finally, my heart racing as I look over at her again.  She’s clearly concerned, although I don’t know why.  I’m fine.  I mean...I’m just trying to help us out of here.  “What?”

She wipes the tears off of my face and presses her forehead to mine.  “You’re scaring me.”

“I’m fine,” I reassure her with a silly smile.  “Come on and help me dig.”

“Justin, please,” she whimpers.  “There’s no way...it’s...we can’t dig through the floor.”

“Why not?”  My bottom lip quivers like a small child's would.  “Why can’t we?”

“You’ve been through so much,” she says quietly as she pulls my face closer to hers.  “I’m so sorry, Justin.”  She shakes her head and sniffles a little bit.  “I’d do anything to take it all back.”

“I want to go home,” I whimper against her, and she pulls me down so I can lay my head against her chest.  “Sam, please let me go home.”

“I’ll think of something,” she tells me, as she rubs my back soothingly.  “Just try to relax, okay? You’re...you’re getting sick I think.”

“Sick, ha.” I giggle at first but it slowly turns into a horrific sounding moan.  Then I’m sobbing into her like a fucking pussy and I can’t make myself stop.  I’ve started to cross that thin line between sanity and emotional mess, and I don’t know if I’m ever coming back from it.  I’m terrified, starting to become a shell of the strong, confident, cocky guy that I’ve always been.

And there’s nothing I can do about it.