Updating! That is all.
I own nothing. The Almighty Larson owns it all, except the title and Matt. Those two things belong to i'llbeyourcoat and Gema227.
"How long have we been going this way?" Maureen asked Roger.
"Maureen, don't start," Roger warned.
"But it seems like we should be really close by now."
"She's right, Roger," Angel said. "Besides, that guy seemed a little strange to me."
"Well, he sounded like he knew where to go," Roger replied. "That's good enough for me."
"Can I see your map, Roger?" Joanne asked. Roger quickly gave Joanne the map while he drove. "Thanks." She looked at the map. "Where'd we just leave?"
"Um . . . Oneonta," Angel told her. Joanne nodded and traced a path to the left on the map with her index finger. Her eyes then widened.
"Uh . . . guys?" she said, not taking her eyes off the map.
"What's wrong, Pookie?" Maureen asked.
"We're on our way to . . . Buffalo." Roger slammed on the brakes, causing everyone to hit their heads on whatever was in from of them.
"What the hell, Roger!?" Mark complained, clutching his head after he'd hit it off the back of the seat in front of him.
"Sorry, guys," Roger apologized. "Now, what'd you say about Buffalo, Joanne?"
"That guy gave you the wrong directions," Joanne said, also clutching her head.
"I knew that fucker was lying!" Angel shouted, not even caring that she'd hit her head on the dashboard. "If I see him again, I swear-"
"Ang, calm down," Maureen said.
"Calm down!? Are you serious!? Linda's little girl and my boyfriend could be dead right now and you don't seem to care!" Angel opened the door and started running down the highway. Mimi got out and ran after her.
"Angel, wait!" she called. Angel stopped running and dropped to her knees. Mimi caught up with her, got down on her knees, and wrapped her arms around her friend.
"Mimi, I don't know what those people are doing to him," Angel sobbed into Mimi's shoulder. "They could be hurting him right now or . . . maybe they already . . . killed . . ." She couldn't bring herself to finish her sentence.
"Shh, it'll be okay," Mimi soothed. "Collins and Susie are gonna be alright, chica. They'll make it through this. I know it." Angel sniffed.
"I hope you're right," she said. Though her eyes were filled with tears and her thoughts were mostly on Collins, she was able to see Chuck's face clearly and knew in that moment she wanted revenge.
Collins opened his eyes slowly. The first thing he noticed was that there was a small pain in his wrists and his feet weren't touching the ground. He looked up and saw that one end of a rope had been tied to a pipe that went along the ceiling and the other end bound his wrists together. He looked and, before seeing Susie's tear-stained face, noticed he was once again shirtless. Matt then came down the stairs, followed by Lisa, carrying a small bag.
"Sleeping, beauty's finally awake," he said.
"Matt, get him down from there, now," Lisa demanded as Alexander came down the stairs.
"I don't think so."
"What's . . . goin' on?" Collins asked. His wrists were starting to hurt even more.
"I've put Matthew in charge of punishing you," Alexander said, glaring at Collins.
"But . . . why am I . . . hangin' from the ceiling?"
"You'll find out soon," Matt told him, smiling.
"Matthew," Alexander looked from Matt to Collins," though I've been against your racism ever since I hired you, I want you to . . . have fun." Matt smiled and opened the bag he was holding as Alexander went back up the stairs.
Having fun with racism? Collins thought. What the hell is this guy gonna do to me?
"Matt whatever you have in that bag better stay there," Lisa said. Matt ignored her and took a whip out of the bag. Lisa gasped, Susie stared at the whip in confusion, and Collins' eyes widened in horror.
Oh God, he thought. He can't be serious.
"I'm gonna enjoy this," Matt said, coming closer to Collins.
"Please . . . not that," Collins begged. "Anything but that."
"You brought this on yourself. Maybe somebody should've warned you what could happen if you tried escaping."
"You . . . you don't have to do this, Matt," Lisa said, her eyes still on the whip.
"I know . . . I want to." Matt was behind Collins now, eyeing his back to choose where he'd make the first strike.
"Please . . . don't . . ." That was all Collins had time to say before he felt the harsh sting of the whip on his bare skin. He cried out in pain and began desperately trying to free his wrists. "Please . . . please stop . . ." The whip hit him again and, as he screamed, Susie cried.
"Matt, stop!" Lisa shouted as Matt struck Collins again with the whip, prompting another scream to erupt from his throat. As tears fell from Collins' eyes and screams of pain came out of his mouth, Lisa was frozen with fear. She wanted to stop the attack, but she couldn't get her legs to move.
With each strike of the whip, Collins was losing consciousness again.
"Stop it!" Susie cried. "You're hurting him!"
"That's kind of the point," Matt told her calmly. He hit Collins a few more times before putting the now blood covered whip back into its bag. "Twenty lashes with a whip oughtta teach you." He then got a stool from the corner of the room, stood on it, untied Collins' wrists, and let him fall to the floor. He had passed out from the pain. "Now, that was fun." Matt went back upstairs as Susie ran to Collins.
"Collins?" she said, tears still pouring out of her eyes. "Collins?" He didn't move. "What do we do now, Lisa?"
"I could . . . try to clean his back up . . . while he's out," Lisa said, struggling to speak, but finally able to move. "I'll be . . . right back." She slowly walked up the stairs and immediately saw Matt talking and laughing with one of the men she hadn't really met before. This infuriated her.
Matt had said and done some pretty racist things in the past, but nothing would ever top what she'd just witnessed him do. She now only wanted on thing.
Revenge.
This is the part where you all tell me how much you hate Matt. Go for it. And don't kill me or throw things at me or hate for this. It was very hard to write.
Review please.