Bobby
I stop halfway down the street and pull the cut out from under the seat. I clench my hands into the leather, my teeth gritting with anger. If I leave, Jessica won’t call me for weeks, possibly ever. She will do everything in her power to ignore me and purposely distance herself from me. I fucked this up. I should have never said anything. I should have never allowed myself to get to this point. But I did, and what I said to her was true. I throw the cut onto the seat next to me and turn the wheel. I stomp on the pedal and drift into a complete circle, heading back to Jessica’s. I can’t let her get away, and I can’t give up that easy.
Driving into the parking lot, a red minivan flies out, running over the sidewalk, and nearly clipping the bed of my truck.
“What the fuck, man?” I yell out the window of my door. The guy in the van slowly turns his head, his eyes menacing and lip curled as he stares at me behind the driver’s side window. He looks familiar, but I can’t place where I know him from. Then again, I come across a lot of fuckers who look menacing, being a part of the Devil’s Dust and all. I park my truck and run up the stairs to Jessica’s apartment. As I get closer to her door, I notice it’s open, and there is blood spotting the floor. I slowly push it open and see the apartment’s trashed, resembling the club's break in.
“Jessica!” I yell, running into the apartment. I race into Jessica’s room, bathroom, and Addie’s room, but I don’t find her. I close my eyes trying to think, trying to calm my racing thoughts. That guy in the van popping in my mind, the way he was driving that minivan like he stole the fucking thing. The way he looked familiar. He had to have had something to do with this.
I look across the hall, and run toward the apartment door placed adjacent to Jessica’s apartment. Jessica told me her babysitter lives right across from her. Maybe she is over there. Maybe the sitter heard something.
I pound on the door rapidly, not faltering until it is swung open.
A black-haired college-aged woman opens the door, her hair in pigtails and thick glasses on her face. “What the hell?” she snaps, eyeing me pissed off.
“Is Jessica in there with you?” I question, looking over her shoulder.
“No, she went on a date,” the girl replies, looking at me suspiciously.
“Bobby!” Addie hollers excitedly from the couch.
“Hey Hun. You both stay in here. Lock the door. Don’t come out of here, do you understand me?” I yell, pointing at the babysitter. Her eyes widen, fear written on her face. “Do you understand?” I roar, slapping my hand against the doorframe trying to get her attention.
“Yes,” she peeps, her eyes filling with tears. I turn and run down the stairs.
I jump in my truck and race in the direction the van went, hoping I can catch up to it.
Jessica
My face burns and stings where my forehead was slammed into the counter. I try to open my eyes, the muscles in my lids resisting. I notice the worn out seat beneath my arms, and the hum of a motor around me. I’m in a vehicle. Sitting up slowly, my head swims with a fog. My eyes land on the blond in the front and it all becomes clear. Grant. The van swerves, throwing me into the side of the window with a loud thump. Grant looks in the rearview mirror, his eyes locking with mine.
“I will shoot you in the head if you try anything,” Grant threatens, tapping the steering wheel with the barrel of a gun. I nod in understanding, and sit back in the seat. I can barely breathe with the fear rushing through my chest. The thought of dying today is too much to bear. I don’t have what he wants. I never went and met with the lawyer to finish the last of the details.
“I don’t have the money, Grant. I haven’t signed the papers yet,” I tell him, trying to make him understand I don’t have anything to give him. My hands tremble with terror, causing me to fidget with them.
“Bullshit,” he scoffs, running his hand under his sniffling nose. He looks in the mirror and furrows his brows in anger. His eyes make me wince in my seat. He’s fucking crazy. No matter what I say, he won’t care. He has Travis’s blood in him making him a part of the sadistic gene pool.
“You better get it by tonight then, or I will kill you. I’m not playing games,” he yells, clearly agitated.
“Where are you taking me?” I ask, looking out the windows, trying to get an idea if there’s a way to escape or scream for someone to hear me.