Hotel Key

Chapter 35

After her phone was jerked from her grasp, RickyJo took a hard hit to the back of her head. She screamed inside the strangling pillowcase that was fastened over her face. Her hands were taped together in front of her. But her legs were free. And she used them, thrashing her body and kicking as hard as she could. She felt her feet make contact with the body of one of her captors. Now that she knew where he was, she bent her knees and aimed, kicking the man as hard as she could. She was rewarded with a thump and a strangled grunting noise. It felt good. She wasn't free but at least she had done some damage to one of these assholes. But RickyJo's victory was short-lived. She quickly found herself pinned to the floor, with a man's body on top of her.

"That shits gonna stop right now," the man hissed. "We can't kill you. You're worth too much money. But there's plenty we can do to make you wish you were dead." To prove his point, the man ground his hips into her, making sure she felt his erection pressing against her thigh as he grabbed her tender breast and squeezed down hard enough to make her wince. Even through the bag on her head, she could smell his sweat. And the panic started to rise up inside her, causing her breathing and heart rate to increase. The fabric over her head sucked into her mouth and she had to use her tongue to help spit it out. RickyJo forced herself to slow her breathing down. If she didn't she was going to hyperventilate and pass out. And she didn't want to find out what this pervert had in store for her if she was unconscious.

"Keep it down back there," another man said. "I've got to call her idiot husband. Before he gets any ideas about calling the cops."

RickyJo focused on her breathing as she listened to the man's conversation. Being able to hear Daryl's voice was comforting, even if it was just through the phone. She placed her hands over her swollen stomach as best she could with her wrists fastened together, feeling a sudden swell of fear for the little life growing inside her. He'll come for us. He won't stop until we're both home safe. RickyJo was relieved when she heard the man ask Daryl for money. Maybe that was all these people wanted. Daryl would pay them. And they would let her go.

There wasn't much more conversation after the man ended the call. RickyJo tried to pay attention to which way they were going. But inside the fabric hood, her sense of time was off. Her lip hurt from when she got hit earlier during the fight. And her head was throbbing where one of these men punched her. The pain and breathing her own hot breath inside the hood was making her sick to her stomach. She tried to relax her body and focus on her breathing. Barfing with this bag on her head wasn't going to improve her situation.

It felt like they were driving forever. But finally, she felt the vehicle slow down. We must be getting off the highway. They turned, driving at a slower pace. And then she could feel the incline as they headed up into the mountains. They drove for what she guessed was about another half hour. Even though it felt like much longer. And finally the van slowed to a stop. Two men grasped her and pulled her from the van. They were not being gentle with her. But to their credit, they weren't being overly rough either. And no one had touched her sexually other than after she mule kicked one of them.

She was marched up a set of stairs and through a door. She assumed they went down a narrow hallway next. Because the two men had to turn her sideways instead of walking straight ahead on either side of her. She felt them attach a metal cuff to her ankle. From the feel of it, she assumed the cuff was attached to some sort of chain or dog lead. RickyJo heard the two men retreat from the room. And then another man entered. Since she couldn't see anything, she was forced to keep still and let him approach her. And even if she could, she was afraid to fight back after the threats the one man made in the back of the van. The man grasped her wrists and cut through the tape, warning her not to move or she might get cut. When he was done, he stepped back. RickyJo reached up, clawing at the hood on her head in her panicked desire to suck in a full breath of fresh air.

The room was dimly lit. But after the total darkness of the hood, she still had to blink a few times before her eyes adjusted. The first thing she was able to focus on was the man that just cut the tape from her wrists. RickyJo yelped and scrambled backwards, nearly falling on her ass. The man was sitting in a wooden chair. But that wasn't what startled her. He had a creepy ass mask on. It looked like a high end halloween devil mask, except it was white instead of red. And it only covered the top half of his face. So she could see that he was smiling.

"Motherfucker," she cursed, hissing the word under her breath. It was bad enough these people snatched her up. Now they felt the need to frighten the fuck out of her with creepy halloween props. And she could tell the sick weirdo was enjoying the scare he gave her. "If yer gonna be poppin' up in that getup, I hope you have a spare pair of pants fer me," RickyJo told him. The man laughed. And the sound of it gave her a chill. She was glad she put on a big oversized hoodie before she left the house.

"Time to go over the rules," the man said. RickyJo eyed him suspiciously. But when she didn't talk back, he continued. "You'll stay in this room. You won't try to escape. Not that you can anyway." The man cast a pointed glance to the cuff around her ankle. Like she guessed, it was attached to the type of plastic coated chain a person would use to tie out a large dog. And the other end of it was attached to the wall. Probably bolted into a wall stud from the looks of it. The small room was sparse. Like they'd already removed everything but the few items they placed inside specifically for her to use while they kept her captive. There was the wooden chair the man was sitting in. A bucket. Since there was a roll of toilet paper next to it, RickyJo assumed that's where she was going to be expected to relieve herself. And a small air mattress with a rolled up sleeping bag on it. There was a gallon jug of water on the floor next to the mattress. Other than that, the room was bare. They didn't just grab her on a whim. This was well planned.

"You won't try any more of your kickboxing bullshit," the man added. "...Or you'll regret it. You'll keep your mouth shut and do as you're told. As long as your husband pays up, you won't be here long. So don't make this any worse for yourself than it needs to be."

RickyJo nodded. Shut up and don't kick anyone. She figured she could do that for a few days. If she wasn't pregnant, she would have this asshole on the floor by now, choking him with the chain attached to her ankle. But she was afraid that if she tried that now, she would hurt herself or her baby. RickyJo glanced over the man, committing what she could see of his face and stature to memory. He was white. And probably in his early forties. There was only a little sprinkling of gray in his brown hair. Even though he was sitting down, she could tell from the length of his legs that he was tall. He was dressed in a gray button down shirt and dark cargo style pants with a black quilted vest on top of the shirt. There was nothing remarkable about his appearance except for his height and the large black hunting knife he had fixed to his belt in a sheath.

"You understand the rules?," he asked. RickyJo nodded her head. He smiled again, sending another chill up her back. "Call for me if you need anything," he instructed as he rose from the chair. Like she guessed, he was tall. RickyJo was tall for a girl and she still only came about to his shoulders.

"What should I call you?," she asked. The man smiled again, closing the distance between them and lifting up a long strand of her hair. He rubbed it between his fingers before he brought it up to his face and breathed in the smell of her.

"You can call me Governor."