I woke up with a massive, raging headache, my hands tied behind my back, my legs shackled together, and a gag covering my mouth. Charli was across from me, similarly trussed, her eyes wide with fear.
“Well, well, look who’s awake,” Art said. He sounded almost amused, but there was meanness to his tone that sent chills rippling over my spine. “About time you woke up. Thought I’d kilt you for a minute there.”
I tried to talk, but it came out in a mumble. I looked around wildly, wondering how much time had passed and why they were holding us captive. Frankly, I was shocked we were still alive.
Charli kept her eyes focused on me, trying to communicate something. I took a deep breath and focused on trying to calm down. Fear was not going to get us out of this nightmare.
Sam wasn’t with us. Art sprawled across a fragile Victorian style chair upholstered in a pretty tapestry, his ratty appearance totally out of place on it. He plucked a cigarette out of his pack and lit it, sucking hard on it until the tip glowed red. A gun rested on a round walnut table next to his chair.
When his cigarette was lit, he picked up the gun and played with it, twirling it around in his hands and idly pointing it at objects and sighting them in. Then he’d say ‘bang’ and pretend like the gun kicked up. Charli cringed and lurched every time, which seemed to make the game even more enjoyable to Art. I made up my mind to ignore him and tried to signal to my sister to do the same, but she didn’t get the message.
Sam returned after what I estimate was about twenty minutes. My stomach was growling and the bag of hamburgers he brought in made it even worse. He tossed a couple to Art, who immediately dropped the gun on the table and unwrapped the burgers. He wolfed the first one down in three bites and then lit into the second one. My mouth watered.
“You hide the car?” Art asked Sam.
“Yeah, put it in the garage out back. I don’t think anybody saw it.” Sam’s accent was gone again. Guess there was no need to keep up the pretense since Charli and I most likely weren’t going to live to tell anyone. My canvas bag hung over the back of the chair, the files I’d swiped lay on the table, and my phone and Charli’s were both smashed to pieces on the floor next to Art’s chair. Obviously, they’d figured out what we were up to.
Charli wriggled and mumbled. Sam watched her, and then went to her, removing her gag. “What?”
“I need to use the bathroom,” Charli said. “Please.”
Sam turned to Art. “Should I let her?”
Art cackled. “Hell no. Let her suffer. They done caused us enough trouble.”
Sam slid the gag back over Charli’s mouth. “What are we going to do with them?” he asked Art.
“Don’t know yet,” Art said. He unwrapped another burger and stuffed it down his throat. “They sure done screwed things up for today. I was supposed to make the drop an hour ago. If I leave now, you think you can handle them without messing stuff up worse?”
Sam’s eyes were like burning coal. “Of course I can. What do you take me for, an idiot?”
Art turned to him and gave him a wicked grin. “Idiot ain’t the word I got in mind for you. You keep your head while I’m gone. Don’t screw up. We done got us enough trouble.”
Sam wiggled his fingers out in front of him, tinkling the imaginary ivories. “I don’t plan to do anything.”
Art lumbered out of the chair and tossed the gun to Sam. “Here, don’t shoot yourself in the foot.”
Sam held the gun gingerly, as if it were going to bite him or blow up in his hand. Sweat poured down his forehead.
“Like I said, don’t go and do anything stupid,” Art told him. “I’ll be back in a couple of hours. Lock up while I’m gone and don’t answer the phone.”
With that, he left us, exiting through the back door. Sam seemed relieved that his partner was no longer around. He gently placed the gun on the table and went to lock the rear exit and rearm the alarm. He flittered around as if unsure what to do next. Eventually, he went up front for a while. Charli kept trying to tell me something, using body language and a series of grunts, but I couldn’t figure out what her message was.
Sam came back in and lit down on the little Victorian chair. He unwrapped a burger and offered it to Charli. She shook her head.
When he offered it to me I shrugged, then nodded a yes. He knelt next to me and slipped the gag off of my mouth.
“I’ll have to feed it to you,” he said. “Art wouldn’t like it if I untied your hands.” He lifted the burger to my lips. I wanted it so bad, but didn’t bite it. Instead I chomped down on his hand and twisted my head back and forth as hard and as fast as I could. Sam yelped with pain and tried jerking his hand out of my mouth. I clamped my jaws shut as tightly as I could. He narrowed his eyes, called me a nasty name, and then slapped me as hard as he could with the other hand. It stung so bad I opened my mouth and let go of his hand before I could stop myself.
“You bitch!” he shouted. “I oughta knock you to kingdom come for that.”
“Oh yeah? Go ahead, big man. Make you feel good to hit a woman? I dare you, go ahead and do it again.”
Not a smart move on my part. He hauled off and socked me, not hard enough to break my jaw, but man, did it hurt.
“Shut up!” He ran to the table, grabbed up the gun and pointed it at me. “Next time you try a stunt like that, I’ll shoot you, got it?”
I didn’t believe he’d shoot, but I shut up, not wanting to take any chances. He went to the bathroom to wash the blood off his hand, leaving my mouth uncovered.
“What?” I whispered to Charli. “What are you trying to tell me?”
She glanced back over her shoulder at where her hands were tied behind her and ducked her head twice to the right. “Are your hands tied?” I whispered. She nodded. “But not very tightly?”
She bobbed her head again. “Okay, see if you can get them loose,” I told her. If we don’t get out of here before Art gets back, they’ll probably kill us.”
Charli’s eyes filled with tears.
“Be strong,” I told her. “We can do this.”
Sam returned from the bathroom, his hand swathed in several band-aids. He sat back down in the tapestry-covered chair and shot me dirty looks. I kept my mouth shut, hoping he wouldn’t notice that it was uncovered. Charli and I were going to need to be able to communicate and it would be a whole lot easier if at least one of us could talk.
Sam wasn’t much of a companion or a guard. He’d sit for a few minutes, then suddenly jump up and run out of the room. I heard him in the front of the shop flittering around, and once in the kitchen, clanging something metal against something else. He did this many times, leaving us alone for increasingly long periods of time. Every time he left, Charli worked feverishly on getting her hands untied. I whispered encouragement to her and talked to her about what we would do when we got out of there.
She was almost loose when bad luck struck again. Sam stood next to Charli, staring at her for a long time. “You sure are pretty,” he said. “I’ve been thinking about you ever since the first time I met you.”
He rubbed the gun against her cheek and slid it down to the top of her blouse. Charli tensed up, absolute horror written on her face.
Sam stuck the gun down inside her shirt and rubbed it against her. “You like that? I’ll bet you do. You’re probably a real wild cat in bed, aren’t you? So pretty and peachy.”
I bucked and screamed, tossing myself around as hard as I could, trying to get close enough to kick him. “Leave her alone!”
He jerked the gun out of Charli’s blouse and pointed it at me. “What? You want some of it? You jealous?”
“Hot stuff, aren’t you, Sam. Or should I call you Joe? Gotta tie a woman up to touch her.”
He stuck the gun between my eyes. The metal felt cold and hot at the same time. I felt as if I were sinking, but at the same time it was like I was standing outside myself, watching it all happen.
Sam pressed the gun hard into my forehead. “One more word, and I swear to God I’ll shoot you. I’ll do it, Marty, don’t think I won’t.”
This time I believed him. The look in his eyes was pure evil. I closed my eyes and prayed, thinking of Robby Pluck and Frank Billingham. Hoping that death wasn’t painful. Wishing I could see my folks one last time, wishing I could tell Tim that I was sorry and that I loved him, and praying that Sam didn’t kill Charli too.