Thirty Six: Alex
Aw God, my head… As I go to rub the throbbing temple I realize my arms are stuck; no… tied. Oh my God. I silently panic as my senses kick in and I know I'm in the back seat of that car that took me from Elliot's. How long was I out? Where is this guy taking me?
I hear the radio on low, "you're listening to Radio 103.1 F.M., Goshen's number one rock classics of today and yesterday." The D.J. yells at us in excitement. Goshen? I really i was /i out for a while. I open my heavy lids and see the green digital numbers on the dashboard. 3:32 a.m.
"Turn this shit off," I hear a familiar voice… Dominic. Fuck.
"What do you want to listen to then?" A nasty, but timid voice replies. They also sound familiar but I just can't place it.
"Shut up, Shit," Dominic says, switching to contemporary classical.
"I'm not listening to this garbage all the way there," the passenger complains.
"I said, shut the fuck up. I don't remember asking you what you wanted, you selfish fuck. You're doin' what I say from here on out. I almost went to jail for you." Dominic sneers. My heart is beating so loud I'm afraid they might hear it. The passenger must be the man who attacked me.
"It's not my fault the cops caught up with you."
"I might have slipped through the cracks had i Ms. Cabot /i not shown up and made everything complicated." I close my eyes at the mention of my name. I want to appear as knocked out as possible. I hear the passenger turn around to look at me. He pushes my shoulder. I don't flinch. I won't crack under this pressure. Even if I wanted to, I was frozen with the fear that was coursing through my veins. I hear him turn back to the front.
"How far are we going?" he asks.
"Remember Dad's hunting lodge?" Dominic asks. Wait, the passenger is his brother? Holy shit!
"We're going to Connecticut!" He yells in disbelief.
"Shut up," Dominic says punching his brother in the arm, "you'll wake her up."
"She's out cold man, Jesus," he complains.
The ride goes on and the men speak very little. I open my eyes slightly when it gets bright. I need to remember stores or signs. If I can find a way to escape I need to find my way back. Either way, I know Olivia will find me. I know she will find a way. I have to hold on to that… or I'll completely loose my mind. I'm scared to death but I know these assholes don't want me dead… yet. Dom would have killed me right in Elliot's front yard.
I try to displace myself; taking in the classical sounds that have been on for almost an hour. I picture Olivia's face from the party this evening. It's the freshest memory I have of her.
"Let's really start this thing," I say smiling; pulling her forward. Tentatively our lips meet and I feel Olivia's hand slide from my waist to the small of my back, drawing me closer. She kisses me softly and pulls back to look into my eyes and smile.
"Merry Christmas to me," she laughs lightly. I smile and hug her. Tears come to my eyes but I will them away. I couldn't have a happier Christmas. Her arms loosen their grip to let me go but I squeeze her tighter.
"Just… stay for a minute," I say, unsure of where that came from.
"Okay," her arms recoil snuggly around my body and I'm so content.
I hold the moment in my mind. I mentally freeze the bodies, trying my hardest to remember her scent, the music, the feeling… anything warm. However, my mind can't hold this memory as I feel the car turn and venture down a gravel driveway. We slow to a stop and the passenger turns around in his seat, catching my open eyes.
"Honey, we're home," he smiles evilly and I just look at him. I recognize the face, of my attacker. I don't know how I know… I just do.
I've been sitting in the basement for maybe an hour. I'm trying to keep track of time. It might be five or six a.m. now. The sun is starting to come up. Olivia should be closer to finding me. I wander if she's figured out that Dominic took me. She must've. Maybe she got the plate number of the car. Maybe she's on her way, right now.
It's freezing down here. I'm sitting against the wall in the corner of the room and hugging my knees, trying to hold in what warmth I can. There's nothing in the basement but some wooden planks, half the length of the house. Nothing here is good weapon or survival material. I've gotten used to the smell of rotting flesh but the deer carcass hanging upside down by the dryer is hard to ignore. I'm not stupid though, I've just got to keep myself together. I can't let them break me. They'll want that.
Suddenly, the basement door opens. The passenger comes down the stairs, careful not to spill the bowl of soup in his hands. I find it odd but I'm hungry… and freezing. He hands the bowl to me; almost shy. Okay, Alex, you see these guys all the time; you know how they work. Break him before he breaks you.
"Thank you," I say quietly. I eat fast as he starts to speak.
"I wasn't supposed to… but Dominic is sleeping. I felt bad for you," the man confesses. He's defiantly the follower. I need to gain this guys trust.
"What's your name?" I ask.
"Robert," he answers, "but everyone calls me R.T." He half smiles, then his face turns to a frown, "except Dom. He calls me 'Shit'."
"Why?" I ask distantly. His eyes are out of focus; as if he's returning to the exact place and time the name was dubbed upon him.
"I was a little shit growing up I guess." Floor board's creek and Robert's eyes snap to reality. He takes the half eaten bowl from my hands and walks up the stairs. Dominic meets him halfway.
"What do you think you are doing?" He barks at his brother. Robert starts eating the soup.
"I was bothering her. I got bored," he answers nonchalantly.
Dominic heads down the stairs and over to me. He doesn't miss a beat. He squats down in front of me and shoves his thumb in my mouth. I start to gag.
"It feels like you fed Ms. Cabot hot soup." I cough as he pulls his hand from my face. He goes to stand but turns back to me. "I didn't say you could eat," he says angrily and this me hard across the cheekbone.
"Hey come on!" Robert protests in a moment of bravery.
"You got a problem?" Dominic asks, getting to his feet.
"It's just, you're goin' to mess up her pretty face," he says timidly.
"You're goin' to mess up her pretty face," Dominic mocks. "You're a pansy, you know that? A fuckin' disgrace," he says smacking Robert's cheek, equally as hard. "Now you can match. Bitch. You want to bother Ms. Cabot? I'll show you how." Robert and I watch Dom's every move, unsure of who he's calling and for what.
He dials a number and smiles as the receiver picks up. He turns to me with a sick grin and an eight year olds mischief in his eyes. "You're quite the long distance runner Detective."
No. Not her.