Binds (5 page)

I lean back in the chair and open the bottle of water. God, it feels so good going down my throat. I didn’t realize how thirsty I was until this moment. I’m tempted to chug the whole thing, but who knows when I’m going to be given another drink. I need to ration it out. I close the bottle and open the wrapper on the granola, take a quick bite and wrap it back up. Then, I focus on the baggie. There is a large white pill and another green post-it note inside of it. The note says,
Motrin, it’s for your head. OVER.
I turn the note on its back,
Stop being a drama queen. If you’re thirsty, you’ll get more water. DRINK IT—R.

How could he have known I would think that? I’ve only known the guy, and not very well, mind you, for two weeks. For him to guess my thoughts, it’s kind of scary. Whatever. I’m not about to sit and ponder my kidnapper at this moment, as I am too relieved to possibly have a reprieve from the pain in my head. I question the validity of the Motrin for a second before I pop the pill and take another huge swig of water to wash it down. As I already figured, if he had wanted to harm me or poison me, he could have easily done it while I was asleep.

I down the bottle and toss it and its cap forcefully at the locked door. Exhaustion settles into my body, but it’s not just my bones that feel it, it’s my entire being. When am I going to stop being at the mercy of a man? It’s freaking irritating for me. I go from one psycho man to another overnight. My mother would be appalled by my life.

I know, I know. I didn’t ask this freak to take me, and I damn well didn’t choose for Donovan to keep me the way that he has. But damn, for the last few years of my life, I have been held captive by pricks and I’m tired of it. I throw the granola bar at the door and bang the rocking chair hard up against the wall. Once again, not the best choice for my head, but it makes me feel better, trying to destroy something. I stand up and bang the back of the chair against the wall again and again. After a second, I notice that I am starting to make a hole in the wall with the chair. Awesome. I hit it again, harder this time, and the locked door swings open with a bang.

A short, thin man with slick black hair, a dark complexion, and black-framed nerd-style glasses comes through the door with murder in his eyes. “Puta,” he says through clenched teeth. “I’m only going to tell you this once, and after that, I am going to Bind your ass so tight, you won’t remember your own name. I don’t care how strong they say you are, stop fucking with the chair! You get me?”

Stunned by his appearance, the guy has a flippin’ tear drop tattooed by his eye for cripe’s sake. I say nothing and just nod my head in agreement.

“Good, because if I come back in here again, we’re going to have problems, mijita,” he spits out the last word and starts moving back out of the door.

“Wait!” I leap towards him and the open doorway. “Please, you’ve got to listen to me! I have to get out of here; you are in trouble holding me here. You and everyone in this building are going to die if my husband finds me here.”

“Your threats don’t scare us, pendeja,” he taunts. “Your husband doesn’t scare me either. He won’t be able to find this place. But if for some reason he does, he’ll be the one in trouble.”

“Where am I? Why are you keeping me here and where is Reece?” My voice has turned into a girly whine and I don’t care. If this guy isn’t going to listen to me, I need to find someone who will. Reece has got to be here somewhere. He didn’t just drop me off with this random gang-banger guy and take off…did he?

The thug starts back toward me menacingly. “It’s not you who gets to ask the questions, lady. If I were you, I’d keep that pretty mouth shut and just do as I say or when boss man gets back, he’s going to handle you and you’re not going to like it. Comprende?”

“Oh please, stop with the Spanish, Jinx,” a pretty blonde woman says as she comes through the door. “You don’t even speak Spanish, you’re only half Mexican, and you don’t have a drop of badass in you.”

“Shut up, Cass!” The former thug cries in a very waspish way. “You’re blowing my freakin’ cover!”

“What is that by your eye?” Cass asks, weaving her head around, trying to get a better look at this Jinx guy’s face. “Bwahahaha! Please tell me you didn’t draw a teardrop next to your eye? Oh, this is comic gold! Hold still, I have to get a picture of this for the guys!” She has pulled her phone out and is trying to get a clear picture of Jinx’s face. All the while, he is bobbing and weaving like a skilled fighter, trying to dodge her attempts.

“Cut it out!” He gives a meaningful look towards me that says, not in front of the prisoner!

Cass rolls her eyes and turns her attention back to me. “Hi, I’m Cass.” She holds her hand out for me to shake, as if I’m not trapped in this strange episode of the Twilight Zone, not to mention locked in a kid’s room in an apartment by two, what now appear to be teenagers. This is crazy. I take her hand limply, give it half a shake, and let go. I’m growing tired of this and need some answers.

“Wow, you are powerful,” she exclaims. Is that jealousy I see in her sage green eyes? Eh, not caring at the moment. I have no idea what she is talking about anyway. Between her calling me powerful, and this Jinx guy saying I was strong, I still have no clue of what’s going on. If I am so powerful or strong, why am I the one locked up in a yellow bedroom while these two jokers are holding me for reasons still unknown?

“Forgive Jinx for the act. We’re all a bit scared of you, but Reece told me you were okay. If there’s anyone here you can believe, it’s him. It’s Spencer you have to watch out for.”

“Cass!” Jinx hisses. “You’re giving secrets to the enemy, you traitor! Spencer is going to kill you if he finds out, and I hope he does. That was bullshit, you putting me on blast like that. Now what kind of protection am I going to have against this bitch?”

“Umm…Jinx, is it? I have no idea why you thought you needed protection from me before, but if you call me bitch ever again, you’ll be needing protection from me in the future because I will be shoving my foot up your skinny little ass. Comprende?”

Seriously, I am about done with these kids. Where are the adults? At that moment, Cass’s phone beeps. She checks it and groans. “Oh darn, I was enjoying watching you shake, Jinx. I bet you were about two seconds from pissing your pants, but that was Spencer. He wants us to bring her to the ops room.”

“Shut up, Cass. The only one of us who will be pissing their drawers is you when Spence hears about all of this. Reece isn’t going to be able to get you out of this one.”

Cass rolls her eyes again. It seems to be her trademark move, and I have to fight the urge to flick her forehead like my mom used to do to break me of that habit. “Whatever,” she says, not bothered at all by Jinx’s threat. “Come on, everyone is waiting.”

She and Jinx lead the way, and I follow behind, somewhat eager for this meeting with the mysterious Spencer.

The apartment is larger than I had thought. It takes up the entire floor of the building. Judging by the family portraits hanging in the hallway, the large industrial-looking kitchen, and the dining area we pass on our way to what Cass called the ops room, it would seem that it used to be a single family home. It’s now converted into some sort of outpost for whatever activities these kidnappers are participating in.

After passing two men and a woman who appear to be standing guard over various areas of the place, I am starting to wonder if this isn’t some large organized crime operation that has abducted me. Cass and Jinx offer them head nods and what’s ups as we pass by. The guards give me a wary eye, as if they are expecting me to take on all of them at any moment. It’s unnerving how all of these people stare at me.

We walk down a long hallway with double doors at the end and I can hear raised voices. Two men. Reece’s voice is one of them and they are heatedly arguing. The closer we get, I can tell that it’s me they are discussing.

“I don’t give a shit how long you’ve been running things here,” Reece seethes. “You brought Cass and me into the fold. We didn’t ask to join you; you sought us out. We found Phee. I kept watch over her until I was able to get her out of there, and I was the one who snuck her out right under that pompous ass’s nose. Without Cass and me, you wouldn’t have dick right now, so the way I see it, we’re equal here. You’re not making all of the decisions when it comes to Ophelia.”

Oh, my foot definitely has reservations with Reece’s balls later. I am livid. How dare he argue about me as if I am a child? Abducted or not, I’m not letting anyone make “decisions” regarding me at all. I’m almost getting giddy about what Donovan will do to this arrogant arse, almost, when my thoughts are interrupted by a soft chuckle that holds more authority than any of Reece’s previously vented words.

“Ah, Reece, you delude yourself,” his mellifluous voice states airily. “I can see how tempting it might be to go back to your previous state, you know, before I found you. Yes, you and Cass living out of a car, and oh, yes, Ophelia Brand right along with you. You wouldn’t last five minutes out there and you know it. Between Mrs. Brand’s trace and her desire to get back to her husband, they would find you, and they would kill you. Cass is young enough that she would be shipped off to the nearest reformatory, and there is absolutely nothing you would be able to do to save her. But, don’t let me stop you. By all means, go ahead. Of course, you might want to ask Ophelia Brand what she would rather do, right, Mrs. Brand? You can come in now. Cass, Jinx, you too.”

I hadn’t realized that we had all stopped walking at the same time and had been silently listening. The three of us exchange guilty glances, although I really don’t know what there is to be remorseful for, the bastards were talking about me. Something in this guy’s voice makes me feel we are all petulant children in need of a scolding. I don’t like it.

We enter the room. It looks like it was once a media room, and I can imagine a family lounging around on the large overstuffed couches while watching a favorite movie on the big screen. There is a projector hung from the middle of the ceiling, and on one wall, a long desk covered in surveillance monitors and computer equipment. Jinx rushes over to the computers like they are long lost friends, takes a seat, and starts clicking away on a keyboard. Cass takes a seat near Reece, who is standing in front of the mystery guy. Reece looks to be breathing fire at him through his nose. Several other people are seated around the room, but none of them appear to be alarmed by the confrontation at the front. I’m guessing this is a common occurrence.

I stomp up to Reece and slap him hard across the face. It’s effective in breaking his concentration from the other guy, but damn, his stubble scratched at my hand when I did it. He is now looking at me and giving me his trademark smirk. Damn the stubble, I might just slap him again.

“Ahem.” Mystery Guy clears his throat, and I go to tell him to wait his turn, he’s in line for the next one. But wow, I am momentarily stunned. The guy is serious eye candy with his honey russet hair that just brushes his ears with a slight curl to it. His eyes have an unfathomable deepness to them that lends a slight sadness to his face. He is standing—I would guess around 6 foot 5 with a swimmer’s build of robust arms, shoulders, and chest that leads down to a tapered waist and strong thighs. He is striking…but these people freaking abducted me—who cares what they look like? But now that I think of it, what is up with that? Everyone in the vicinity is really good looking; I mean not one ugly face among them, even the guards we passed on the way were lookers.

“Why is everyone so hot?” I don’t even know how those words have slipped out of my mouth, but I’ve said them, and directly to the hottest hottie of them all, Mystery Guy. (I’m assuming he must be Spencer). Now he is smiling at me with the most perfect set of blindingly white teeth I have ever seen. He’s also looking at me in a way that tells me he would love nothing more than to run a blunt skewer through my heart. His eyes, the color of deep polished sapphire, are filled with that much hate.

“Mrs. Brand,” he says the name like a judge would to the guilty party in his courtroom right before handing down a sentence of execution. “I’m Spencer Donnelly. I would say it’s nice to finally meet you, but seeing as you are directly responsible for destroying millions of lives, I can’t say that it is. And don’t play dumb, Reece here tells me that you are ignorant of our kind, and therefore, are innocent of your crimes. I don’t buy it for a second. You know why we look the way we do, same as you, we are all Mages here.”

“Okay, I’m done playing games,” I tell him, trying to fake courage that I don’t possess. “Mages? Oh… I get it now; you all must be into some kind of larping thing here. Jinx is Legolas, Cass is Sam Gamgee, Reece is Aragorn, and you must be Gandalf. But, here’s the thing, I’m not Galadriel and Donovan is much, much worse than Sauron. So it would be in your best interest, as well as everyone else’s here, if you just deposit me somewhere so he can collect me…because if the Ring Wraiths get called out, I can’t guarantee anyone here getting out alive.” I give as much seriousness to my warning as possible while still trying to hide the shaking of my legs.