"Give me a couple minutes," Richie whispered before Bridgett left. He went
into his room, stalked past the open door to Duncan's and fell face first
onto his bed.
"Everything okay, tough guy?" Duncan asked.
"Emupghf," Richie said into his pillow.
"What was that?"
"Emupghf!"
"I can't understand you," Duncan insisted trying not to laugh. It was hard not to laugh when Richie got mad. He acted like a child. Richie propped himself up on his elbows and glared at Duncan. Sighing, Duncan went over and sat on Richie's bed. "So you're mad?"
"No."
"Yes, you are."
"Are you surprised?"
"Not really."
"Why couldn't she just hang out for a while?"
"Because you're in trouble."
"It's not fair."
"What isn't fair? You did something wrong and you're being punished for it. That's how it works. Has for generations."
"You would know."
"Yes, I do. Sorry, Rich. Just a little bit longer."
"I can't talk you out of this?"
"Nope. You're grounded and that means no girls."
Richie threw his face into his pillow again. "Muhlibicrpyuknthama!"
"Say again?"
"Yureuhnnatysnoabit!"
"So. you're just going to lay in here and be mad?"
"Raotflmfaopmpacgu!"
"Okay. see you in the morning, then." Duncan got up and left the room closing the door behind him. Richie would want his privacy.
Richie kept still for a few seconds then looked up. "And the Oscar goes to." he congratulated himself as he got up. He changed his clothes and washed his face. Then went to the balcony. He peeked to the right and saw that Duncan's curtains were closed. "Score," he mumbled, closing the sliding glass door.
The hotel was built into a hill. While technically their rooms were on the second floor, Richie only had a few feet to drop from his balcony. Bridgett was waiting for him around the corner.
"You ready?" he asked putting an arm around her.
"You made it. I thought you said you could never sneak past him."
"I did pretty well in theater in high school. Guess all those rehearsals paid off.
. . . . . .
"I miss you, too," Duncan said into the phone.
"How is Richie?" Tessa asked on the other end.
"Pouting."
"What did you do?"
"Nothing. He's mad because I'm not letting him go out with some girl he met. Last I checked, he was in his room putting on a big show of being mad."
"I want to talk to him."
"I'll get him." Duncan got up and knocked on the door between their rooms. "Rich?" he called. "Tessa's on the phone. She wants to talk to you." There was no answer. "Richie?" He opened the door to the empty room. "I don't believe him!" He went back to the phone. "Looks like someone just lost his chance for parole."
"What did he do?" Tessa sighed.
"He's not here."
"He snuck out?"
"Yes. He is going to have a lot of explaining to do when he sneaks back in, too."
"Don't be too hard on him," Tessa said.
"Why not? He deliberately disobeyed me."
"Why is he grounded?" she asked patiently.
"You know why, Tess. For what he did in New York."
"And why was he in New York?"
"Because of me," Duncan sighed. "I'm at least going to give him a good scare."
. . . . . .
Richie and Bridgett walked hand in hand down the dark Charles Valley streets.
"I haven't done that in a while," Bridgett laughed, hanging on Richie's arm.
"And you almost got my ass kicked for it," Richie reminded her. "How am I supposed to explain a black eye if Mac thinks I've been sulking in my room all night?"
"You don't have a black eye."
"What if I got one? Mac would freak."
"But you don't."
"What if I did?"
"But you don't!"
"But I could!"
"Then you'd be in trouble."
"And you be home laughing your butt off at me."
"Yes," she smiled up at him.
"Fat lota help you are." They walked quietly for a few blocks. "Man, this city shuts down fast. Where's a taxi when you need one?" Through the course of the evening they had wondered clear across the city from the hotel.
"Maybe they can give us a ride," Bridgett said flagging down a conveniently passing car. The first car they had seen since they left the club.
"What the hell are you doing?" Richie snapped grabbing her arm. "You can't just wave down some stranger to pick you up in the middle of the night!" The call pulled to a stop beside them. "She was just joking," he said as the window rolled down. "Sorry to bother you."
"Bridgett? Bridgett MacDaniels?"
"Ian?" Bridgett asked bending over to get a better view of the driver.
"What are you doing out so late, lass?" Ian asked.
"We went to a club. Can you give us a ride?"
"I don't think this is such a good idea," Richie said. Something about Ian made him uneasy.
"Don't be daft," Bridgett laughed. "Ian used to work for my father."
"And I'd be happy to give you both a ride," Ian said with a smile. "Get in."
Bridgett looked at Richie. "Fine," he sighed. "But we're taking you home first." He didn't want to leave Bridgett alone with this guy, even if she did trust him. There was something about him that made Richie go on alert.
They both got into the backseat. Ian turned the car around and headed for Bridgett's house. Richie judged the situation by her reactions. Apparently everything was okay because she was chatting happily with Ian.
'You've been around Mac too long, Ryan,' Richie told himself. 'You're paranoid. Everyone's not out to get you.' He allowed himself to relax and join the conversation.
Meanwhile Duncan looked at the clock in Richie's room. He had been sitting in the dark for hours waiting for Richie to come back. It was 2:30.
. . . . . .
"Ian, that was the turn," Bridgett said suddenly.
"Was it, now?" Ian asked. There was a click and the doors were locked. "My mistake." Richie reached for the door and pulled on the handle and lock. "Child safety locks. Wouldn't want you wee ones to fall out and hurt yourselves now, would we?"
"I thought you said he worked for your father?" Richie asked Bridgett.
"He did. He was fired a few weeks ago."
"And you never wondered why?"
"No. why were you fired, Ian?"
"None of your business. Just relax and enjoy the ride."
"I told you this was a bad idea!" Richie snapped at Bridgett. "It wasn't much farther back to the hotel. I would have called you a cab or something."
"Don't blame me, you got in, too you know!"
"It was your idea! I was perfectly happy walking!"
"Shut up! Both of you!" Ian waved a gun at them. "I want quiet, do you understand."
They rode in silence the rest of the way. They drove past some mansion like houses, past some farms and onto a dirt road. Richie tried to memorize the way, but everything began to blur together. Then a cabin, much like Duncan's, came into view. Ian honked his horn as he pulled to a stop. Two men came out the front door and stopped by the car. Ian rolled down the window.
"Who's he?" one asked jerking his chin toward Richie.
"He was with her," Ian answered.
"You didn't say anything about a boy," the second said, sounding worried.
"We can handle them," Ian assured him. "Okay, both of you, out. Through that door." He pointed to the one by Bridgett. He unlocked the doors. Bridgett got out and Richie followed her. "Don't make a sound," he warned, pointing his gun at them. "Just get inside."
He pressed the gun into Richie's back as they filed through the open door. They were led past five curious dogs into a back room that had five large, wire dog kennels up along the wall.
Ian opened the door to the first one. "Get in," he told Bridgett, who quietly complied. He closed the cage. "You next," he told Richie opening a second cage.
"No," Richie said boldly.
"Get in," Ian said, pointing his gun directly at Richie's chest.
Richie took a gamble. "No."
"Mickey, Dill, take care of him." Ian groaned.
Ian put the cage up on its back so the door was on top. Mickey grabbed Richie from behind and lifted him up. Dill grabbed his flailing feet and guided them through the small door. The rest of Richie soon followed. Once he was in, the door was closed and padlocked.
"Hey!" Richie protested.
"You two keep quiet. If you don't, I have plenty of things to do it for you," Ian warned. Richie wasn't quite sure what he meant but wasn't in the mood to find out. "Sleep tight." The three men left.
"You okay?" Richie whispered when he saw the light go off under the door.
"What does he want with us?" Bridgett sniffed.
"I don't know."
"Why did you do that?"
"Do what?"
"I thought he was going to kill you; why didn't you just get in?"
"Because now we know he won't kill us. All we have to do is play it cool until I find a way to get us out of here."
"I'm scared."
"Me, too."
. . . . . .
Duncan woke up the next morning having fallen asleep on Richie's bed. He stretched and groaned until he realized where he was and what had happened. or what had not happened. Richie hadn't come back.
"What have you gotten yourself into now?" Duncan groaned getting up. He changed then went to go look for the boy who was asleep twenty miles away in a dog kennel.
"Everything okay, tough guy?" Duncan asked.
"Emupghf," Richie said into his pillow.
"What was that?"
"Emupghf!"
"I can't understand you," Duncan insisted trying not to laugh. It was hard not to laugh when Richie got mad. He acted like a child. Richie propped himself up on his elbows and glared at Duncan. Sighing, Duncan went over and sat on Richie's bed. "So you're mad?"
"No."
"Yes, you are."
"Are you surprised?"
"Not really."
"Why couldn't she just hang out for a while?"
"Because you're in trouble."
"It's not fair."
"What isn't fair? You did something wrong and you're being punished for it. That's how it works. Has for generations."
"You would know."
"Yes, I do. Sorry, Rich. Just a little bit longer."
"I can't talk you out of this?"
"Nope. You're grounded and that means no girls."
Richie threw his face into his pillow again. "Muhlibicrpyuknthama!"
"Say again?"
"Yureuhnnatysnoabit!"
"So. you're just going to lay in here and be mad?"
"Raotflmfaopmpacgu!"
"Okay. see you in the morning, then." Duncan got up and left the room closing the door behind him. Richie would want his privacy.
Richie kept still for a few seconds then looked up. "And the Oscar goes to." he congratulated himself as he got up. He changed his clothes and washed his face. Then went to the balcony. He peeked to the right and saw that Duncan's curtains were closed. "Score," he mumbled, closing the sliding glass door.
The hotel was built into a hill. While technically their rooms were on the second floor, Richie only had a few feet to drop from his balcony. Bridgett was waiting for him around the corner.
"You ready?" he asked putting an arm around her.
"You made it. I thought you said you could never sneak past him."
"I did pretty well in theater in high school. Guess all those rehearsals paid off.
. . . . . .
"I miss you, too," Duncan said into the phone.
"How is Richie?" Tessa asked on the other end.
"Pouting."
"What did you do?"
"Nothing. He's mad because I'm not letting him go out with some girl he met. Last I checked, he was in his room putting on a big show of being mad."
"I want to talk to him."
"I'll get him." Duncan got up and knocked on the door between their rooms. "Rich?" he called. "Tessa's on the phone. She wants to talk to you." There was no answer. "Richie?" He opened the door to the empty room. "I don't believe him!" He went back to the phone. "Looks like someone just lost his chance for parole."
"What did he do?" Tessa sighed.
"He's not here."
"He snuck out?"
"Yes. He is going to have a lot of explaining to do when he sneaks back in, too."
"Don't be too hard on him," Tessa said.
"Why not? He deliberately disobeyed me."
"Why is he grounded?" she asked patiently.
"You know why, Tess. For what he did in New York."
"And why was he in New York?"
"Because of me," Duncan sighed. "I'm at least going to give him a good scare."
. . . . . .
Richie and Bridgett walked hand in hand down the dark Charles Valley streets.
"I haven't done that in a while," Bridgett laughed, hanging on Richie's arm.
"And you almost got my ass kicked for it," Richie reminded her. "How am I supposed to explain a black eye if Mac thinks I've been sulking in my room all night?"
"You don't have a black eye."
"What if I got one? Mac would freak."
"But you don't."
"What if I did?"
"But you don't!"
"But I could!"
"Then you'd be in trouble."
"And you be home laughing your butt off at me."
"Yes," she smiled up at him.
"Fat lota help you are." They walked quietly for a few blocks. "Man, this city shuts down fast. Where's a taxi when you need one?" Through the course of the evening they had wondered clear across the city from the hotel.
"Maybe they can give us a ride," Bridgett said flagging down a conveniently passing car. The first car they had seen since they left the club.
"What the hell are you doing?" Richie snapped grabbing her arm. "You can't just wave down some stranger to pick you up in the middle of the night!" The call pulled to a stop beside them. "She was just joking," he said as the window rolled down. "Sorry to bother you."
"Bridgett? Bridgett MacDaniels?"
"Ian?" Bridgett asked bending over to get a better view of the driver.
"What are you doing out so late, lass?" Ian asked.
"We went to a club. Can you give us a ride?"
"I don't think this is such a good idea," Richie said. Something about Ian made him uneasy.
"Don't be daft," Bridgett laughed. "Ian used to work for my father."
"And I'd be happy to give you both a ride," Ian said with a smile. "Get in."
Bridgett looked at Richie. "Fine," he sighed. "But we're taking you home first." He didn't want to leave Bridgett alone with this guy, even if she did trust him. There was something about him that made Richie go on alert.
They both got into the backseat. Ian turned the car around and headed for Bridgett's house. Richie judged the situation by her reactions. Apparently everything was okay because she was chatting happily with Ian.
'You've been around Mac too long, Ryan,' Richie told himself. 'You're paranoid. Everyone's not out to get you.' He allowed himself to relax and join the conversation.
Meanwhile Duncan looked at the clock in Richie's room. He had been sitting in the dark for hours waiting for Richie to come back. It was 2:30.
. . . . . .
"Ian, that was the turn," Bridgett said suddenly.
"Was it, now?" Ian asked. There was a click and the doors were locked. "My mistake." Richie reached for the door and pulled on the handle and lock. "Child safety locks. Wouldn't want you wee ones to fall out and hurt yourselves now, would we?"
"I thought you said he worked for your father?" Richie asked Bridgett.
"He did. He was fired a few weeks ago."
"And you never wondered why?"
"No. why were you fired, Ian?"
"None of your business. Just relax and enjoy the ride."
"I told you this was a bad idea!" Richie snapped at Bridgett. "It wasn't much farther back to the hotel. I would have called you a cab or something."
"Don't blame me, you got in, too you know!"
"It was your idea! I was perfectly happy walking!"
"Shut up! Both of you!" Ian waved a gun at them. "I want quiet, do you understand."
They rode in silence the rest of the way. They drove past some mansion like houses, past some farms and onto a dirt road. Richie tried to memorize the way, but everything began to blur together. Then a cabin, much like Duncan's, came into view. Ian honked his horn as he pulled to a stop. Two men came out the front door and stopped by the car. Ian rolled down the window.
"Who's he?" one asked jerking his chin toward Richie.
"He was with her," Ian answered.
"You didn't say anything about a boy," the second said, sounding worried.
"We can handle them," Ian assured him. "Okay, both of you, out. Through that door." He pointed to the one by Bridgett. He unlocked the doors. Bridgett got out and Richie followed her. "Don't make a sound," he warned, pointing his gun at them. "Just get inside."
He pressed the gun into Richie's back as they filed through the open door. They were led past five curious dogs into a back room that had five large, wire dog kennels up along the wall.
Ian opened the door to the first one. "Get in," he told Bridgett, who quietly complied. He closed the cage. "You next," he told Richie opening a second cage.
"No," Richie said boldly.
"Get in," Ian said, pointing his gun directly at Richie's chest.
Richie took a gamble. "No."
"Mickey, Dill, take care of him." Ian groaned.
Ian put the cage up on its back so the door was on top. Mickey grabbed Richie from behind and lifted him up. Dill grabbed his flailing feet and guided them through the small door. The rest of Richie soon followed. Once he was in, the door was closed and padlocked.
"Hey!" Richie protested.
"You two keep quiet. If you don't, I have plenty of things to do it for you," Ian warned. Richie wasn't quite sure what he meant but wasn't in the mood to find out. "Sleep tight." The three men left.
"You okay?" Richie whispered when he saw the light go off under the door.
"What does he want with us?" Bridgett sniffed.
"I don't know."
"Why did you do that?"
"Do what?"
"I thought he was going to kill you; why didn't you just get in?"
"Because now we know he won't kill us. All we have to do is play it cool until I find a way to get us out of here."
"I'm scared."
"Me, too."
. . . . . .
Duncan woke up the next morning having fallen asleep on Richie's bed. He stretched and groaned until he realized where he was and what had happened. or what had not happened. Richie hadn't come back.
"What have you gotten yourself into now?" Duncan groaned getting up. He changed then went to go look for the boy who was asleep twenty miles away in a dog kennel.