"It wasn't my fault."
"Yeah? Well, you left me hanging out there for twenty minutes. Anybody could have seen me. What the hell were you doing Sam?"
I sigh. I hate that Charlie can be so damn ungrateful, but I tolerate it. He's all I have, and he's trying as hard as he can to get us out of this horrible predicament we're in. "I was getting him ready," I mutter. "I couldn't very well just take him outside and expect him to come willingly, could I? I took his beer and did what you said. He was dying to dance, so I let him dance with me until the drug started to kick in. It wouldn't have worked otherwise."
"You're just lucky nobody saw you," he tells me, sternly.
"Well I'm sorry that I'm not a professional fucking criminal, Charlie." I cross my arms and look out the window. "We still got him. That's all that matters, right?"
"Yeah, as long as he doesn't remember us. I mean, that drug is supposed to do that, right?"
I shrug. "Yeah, that's what it said on the internet."
"You act like you're not so sure."
I sigh. I hate that he's so paranoid. After all, this was all his idea anyway, I'm just going along with it...helping him because I have no choice. "You saw him," I say harshly. "He was delirious."
He doesn't say anything to me, just grips the wheel tighter and accelerates.
Once I lived a different life. I had family, I had friends, and then...the drugs came into the picture. I met Charlie at a mutual friends birthday party, and I guess I was attracted to him from the start because he seemed so mysterious to me. A rebel, sitting there in torn up jeans and a leather jacket with that mess of curly black hair. Every other guy I'd dated had been so...normal, so grounded, and Charlie stood out. He was new and exciting, so I went over and sat with him. We talked about why I was there, and why he was there. He said his friend invited him out of obligation, while I told him that we had shared the same History class together. We made out the entire night, and my best friend at the time had laughed at me and called me a skank. But I didn't care. It was like...after that, he was all I could think about. He started coming around a lot, and eventually Charlie and I were hanging out every single day.
Six months later he brought me to a casino.
That was when I realized how many problems Charlie really had.
My friends hated him, my parents didn't want me dating him, but I didn't care. I had fun with him, with taking risks. I liked the fact that he could lose a thousand dollars on a blackjack game and walk away unharmed. I figured that he had the money to lose, it wasn't really a big deal to me. I found myself getting in on it too...losing hundreds, if not thousands of dollars that year on slots, video poker, and the occasional blackjack game. I told him I wanted to stop after that, but Charlie never liked to hear that sort of thing. He was a rebel, and he wanted his girlfriend to be the same way. I was so weak, I couldn't say no to him, but I was terrified because I'd spent all the money my parents had put away for college that semester. That meant I wouldn't be able to buy books, pay dorm fees, or anything else.
But he told me he had an answer, that he loved me and that it was time I learned how to make extra money just like he did.
Adrian is Charlie's loan shark, who also allows him to deal his cocaine on the side for a piss poor commission. I did it for a while, but I really sucked at it so Adrian said I had to go. I was okay with that. Dealing drugs wasn't really my forte. Charlie is good at it though. The money he brings in on that pays our weekly motel bill, and puts whatever food we can afford on the table. I don't speak to my parents anymore, or my friends. When I left home, they disowned me. It's been years. I started doing coke about a year after I left, and now...
Now I can't stop. But Adrian is nice about it. Gives me all the drugs I want for free, because Charlie makes so much money for him. Up until a few weeks ago things were going okay. Charlie hadn't been as abusive as he could be towards me. Adrian had given him a small raise and we were finally able to start saving up for a place of our own, so we could get out of the dingy ass motel we'd been thriving in for so long. I was even starting to lay off the coke a little bit, lightening my intake slightly each day. I knew if I wanted to stop what I really had to do was get help, and I talked to Charlie about it. But he told me it was too risky, that Adrian could get tied to the drugs and we'd all be dead. So I opted out. Charlie said he'd try to help me quit.
But he got caught up in other things.
I tried as hard as I could to keep him away from the casino, but I guess just like me, he has an addiction too. About a month ago he went, having taken out a huge loan from Adrian that he could never repay unless he won. He was so hopeful, said he was going to play high stakes poker and win us a fortune...get me away from Adrian and his coke forever. I tried to believe in him.
But I guess I didn't believe in him hard enough.
Charlie lost almost nine hundred thousand dollars that week. I wasn't there, but he must have been really drunk, or dealt a lot of terrible hands. He came home smiling, telling me that the casino had comped him a suite and everything due to the loss, but I hadn't been able to smile for him. I had shaken him, crying that he had no idea what he had done. That we only had a thousand dollars to our names, that Adrian would never accept that, and he would kill us. Charlie said he would talk to him.
Adrian told Charlie he had two weeks to get him his money.
I don't know what he's going to do if Charlie doesn't come through.
I'd been up for days, scanning every money making scheme I could find on the internet at the library, trying to come up with a way to get at least half of the money for Adrian. I figured, if we got half of it, Adrian would be a little more forgiving because it showed we had initiative. But I was lost. There was nothing legitimate in any article that I read. I realized I was following a fools path. Money like that didn't just fall into people's laps. I knew the only way we could get it, was by robbing a bank or Charlie's favorite casino and I definitely wasn't up for that sort of thing. I refused to bring up the subject with him either, because I knew he'd get it into his head that we could pull it off.
I figured we were done for. I'd contemplated calling my parents, to tell them goodbye. Not that they would have cared.
Then...just like that, Charlie formulated a plan of his own.
"Look." He tossed me a flyer one day after I returned home from the library.
I took it and sat down on the couch, scanning it for more information. It was some advertisement for a night club, and I looked at him like he was crazy. "A night club?," I'd scoffed. "Charlie, are you crazy? We have to get this money, we can't go party!"
"No. I looked into it, baby," he reassured me calmly. "That club, it's one of those elite places. Celebrities go there. What if we got the money that way?"
I stared at him, not quite sure what he was getting at. "What way?"
"We could take somebody. You know...keep ‘em someplace for a few days, get their family to give us some money."
"What?"
"It would work," he'd said, with enthusiasm. "Those people have so much money, giving a little of it to us in exchange for their precious family member's life won't be an issue. Come on, think about it. It's easy, and nobody has to get hurt. We'll just...you know, blindfold whoever it is so they don't know what we look like."
"You're talking about kidnapping somebody," I'd told him, seriously. "Charlie, that's crazy, okay? I know we need this money but we can't just...do that. What if we get caught? We'll spend the rest of our lives in prison. Is that what you want, baby?"
"Why can't you just fucking trust me, Samantha?"
He'd gotten up and stormed across the room to where I was sitting. I couldn't even get a word out before he slapped me across the face. I'd cried a little bit, but wizened up quickly, knowing that me crying only made him more explosive. "I do trust you," I whimpered, clutching the throbbing portion of my face. "But I'm scared."
"I was stupid and lost that money," he grunted. "I'm not stupid enough to not get it back." He crossed his arms and glared at me. "You need to be with me on this, Sam. Stop pissing me off and tell me you'll just do it. It's the only way." He sat down next to me, and moved my hand so he could kiss the part of my face that he'd struck. "Come on, girl. I'm sorry."
I took his hand gently. I hated myself for forgiving him. He hit me all the time, and I knew it was wrong. But this was the life I'd chosen for myself, and there was nothing I could do to change it, because we had a huge debt looming over us. "I'll do it," I whispered.
He smiled. "That's my girl."
The club was like a blur. I don't even know what Charlie said to the bouncer to get us in, and seated at that table, because I'd been looking the other way, trying to tune out the entire situation. It was better that way though. The less attention I drew to myself, the better, since I was to be the bait. That had been decided days before, when our plot to kidnap a rich celebrity had been in it's infancy. Charlie figured he could dress me up, make me look really hot, rather than the drug addict I usually looked like. He took our last thousand dollars and bought me some really expensive outfit from the mall, had me get my hair colored. He colored his too. He said it was a good disguise. I went from a dark brunette to a bright strawberry blond, and Charlie opted for a bleach blond look. It was nice being pampered for a day, but it made me feel sick to know why I was getting to do it.
I'd been sitting in the swank club, the music blaring, and the alcohol being poured for us. I didn't recognize anyone at first, but after several minutes, Charlie nudged me, and when I looked over at him, I knew he'd found his prey.
"Him."
He nodded straight ahead and I looked. The young man seated at the table directly across from us looked slightly familiar but I had no idea what his name was. "Are you sure?"
"That's Justin Timberlake," he'd whispered in my ear, groping my upper thigh to make it look like we were flirting rather than plotting. "Guy has money pouring out of his tight little asshole. He's the one, and he's been staring at you. It'll be easy as hell. Now go, get lost on the dance floor, and I'll text you when he gets up."
I couldn't deny that I was scared shitless, but I knew that there was no turning back at that point. I'd already agreed to be in on the kidnapping with Charlie, and now the time had come to initiate our plan. "Okay...," I sighed.
"I love you." He gave me a little kiss. "I'll see you in a while."
I nodded, and hadn't said another word as I looked back at Justin again. He'd been staring, his eyes filled with intrigue as they studied my slender figure. He was surrounded by friends, laughter filling their table. But he wasn't paying attention. He was far more interested in me, and I wondered how many moments such as that he took for granted on a weekly basis...how many conversations he missed out on with his friends because he was too busy looking at a girl. What an asshole, I thought. Maybe I was being too harsh, though.
Maybe I was just looking for a reason to think what I was doing was okay.
The van slows and it snaps me back into the present. I know we're here, at the place. It's ten minutes away from the motel, but you'd never know it. A makeshift shack in the middle of an abandoned lot, is the place Charlie picked out and fixed up for this. I've been in it once, right before we left for the club. It's lonely...cold, scary. I wouldn't wish it on anyone. But Justin...he's about to be subjected to it for entirely too long, and I feel really bad about it.
He's not such a bad guy. True, his pick up lines are corny, but his smile takes care of that.
The way he puts his hands on a woman, takes care of that.
And now I'm about to do the unthinkable to him.
"Go open the door, Sam." Charlie grunts and tosses me the keys to the shack. I get out of the van quickly, and put the key in the lock with a shaky hand. Charlie takes it upon himself to get Justin out of the van, and groans a little as he slides him out of the back and tosses him down on the concrete. I don't hear a sound from Justin, probably because he's still passed out, but I flinch for him, knowing that when he wakes up he'll definitely feel the repercussions of what Charlie just did.
"Here, get his feet," Charlie orders.
I do, and we carry Justin inside the shack, Charlie kicking the door closed behind us. We put him down on the floor and I stand back, as Charlie pulls the sack off of Justin's head. I'm immediately brought back to the club when I see him passed out like that. The way he leaned on me, asked me to help him, and the fear in his weak voice when he realized I wasn't there to help him...but to hurt him.
I suck in a shaky breath.
This is wrong. I want to stop.
But we can't stop now.
Charlie kneels down on the floor, and pulls some chains with handcuffs attached at the ends from different spots on the floor. They're bolted down to the ground and into the wall. I gasp a little. "Cuffs?"
He pulls one of Justin's legs out straight, and clamps one of the cuffs around his ankle. "Yeah. What did you think?"
"Isn't that kind of extreme? I mean, the door locks, Charlie."
"Do you want him to get out?" He says, performing the same action to Justin's left ankle. "Because he will if we're not careful, Sam. We can't take chances. Come on, help me do this."
I stand back against the wall, surveying the entire room as a whole. I didn't even realize the work Charlie had done to keep Justin from being discovered accidentally. He's boarded up windows, put up soundproofing foam, and somehow, obtained shackles for hands and feet, bolting them to the floor and wall to prevent more movement than necessary. I shake my head. Charlie may be fucked up, he may hit me sometimes and he may be a little crazy, but I never thought he'd stoop to this level. This is serial killer shit. When Justin wakes up, he's going to freak the hell out. "Charlie...I think we should..."
"Damn it Samantha." He pushes Justin back down to the floor and stands up. He storms over to me and I swallow hard as I press myself into the wall. He grabs me by my shoulders and shakes me a little bit. "You agreed to do this. We both agreed it was the only way, and now you feel bad because you didn't think about what goes on when you do shit like this. Just don't think about him. He doesn't matter...he's a rich little asshole who probably doesn't give a shit about how good he has it. He lives in a big house, while we rot in that fucking motel and hope that Adrian doesn't shoot us dead. So, come on...help me finish doing this so we can lock up and go back to the motel."
I whimper a little, pressing my lips tightly together as I look down at the floor. I never intended to hurt or torture anyone . I just...I thought things were going to be a little less intense. That we would just watch him, and everything would be okay. I didn't intend on all of this. I feel sick, knowing that if it were me laying there, I would be fucking terrified.
"Sam." He pushes up on my chin so I'm forced to look at him. "Look, I'm sorry," he whispers, giving me a light kiss. "It's only a couple of days. Nobody is going to get hurt."
"Are we going to feed him?," I mutter. "Because I'm not just going to leave a human being here to suffer, Charlie. I'm better than that, and so are you."
He sighs, but smiles slightly for me. "If it'll make you feel better."
"Then...fine." I wipe the stray tears off of my face, and follow him back over to where Justin is passed out on the floor. Charlie props Justin up, while I cut through the tape binding his wrists together. I pick up the cuffs that are attached to the wall, and replace the tape with them. I cuff his hands in front of him, figuring he'll be a little more comfortable this way. I look at Charlie, but he doesn't protest. I guess he thinks it's safe enough this way. Justin groans slightly through the tape over his mouth when I click the cuffs closed around his wrists, and even though he's still passed out, I have the strangest feeling that he can sense what's happening to him.
"Good." Charlie surveys our victim, picking up the chain that links Justin's handcuffs to the metal loop bolted into the wall, and gives it a few sharp, strong tugs, nodding in approval when it doesn't budge. "You ready?"
I look down at Justin, hating how pathetic he looks...how defenseless. "What if we just take the tape off his mouth, Charlie. You did a good job here, nobody will hear him if he makes noise. Maybe we can go to the gas station too. Get some bottles of water for him or something?"
Charlie sighs and places his hands on his hips. "So we can get caught making a second trip here tonight? Come on Sam. Give me a break. I wish you cared about me this much."
"I do care about you." I look at the floor. "I just...if it were me laying there, I'd be greatful for those things, you know?"
"Damn it." He storms over to Justin, looking angry enough to kick him in the balls. But he doesn't. He just crouches down, and yanks the tape down around Justin's neck. He coughs lightly, but doesn't wake up. "Are you happy now, Sam? Hmm? Any other requests? Should we go to the motel and bring him our bedding too?"r32;
"Actually..."
"Shut the fuck up, Sam." He grabs my hand and yanks me out of the shack, slamming the door and locking it behind him. "And we'll bring him the water in the morning. Not now. It's too risky."
"Okay, fine." I hang my head low, hoping that he won't hit me for pissing him off.
"Get in the van."
I do, and sit silently as he gets into the drivers seat and starts it up.
Story Tags: love celebrityj breakupj justin
