Back to Stephanie's POV…
"Where am I?" I whisper as I glance around my surroundings. Nothing appeared to be familiar. My head ached. I felt a lump on the back of my head. The goose egg should have landed me in the hospital for a CT scan.
"She's awake," a woman called from the doorway. The woman seemed familiar, but I couldn't place her. My memory was blank. "How are you feeling?" she asked me.
"Like I got hit in the head," I replied. "Where am I?"
"Safe," the woman replied.
"What's your name?" I wondered.
Her eyes focused on a spot above my head as she answered, "Heather." I'd bet a Pino's meatball sub that her name was most definitely not Heather. But I'd be damned if I could remember.
Did I lose my memories? I tried to recover what I remembered last—college with Cassidy, Taylor and Rachel. A blond-haired man with green eyes flickered into my head. His image faded away when I attempted to focus on him. My head ached from the strain.
"She lost her memories," Heather told the man.
"How do you know?"
"I told her my name," Heather replied, pulling him from the room.
The ringing in my ears prevented me from eavesdropping on their conversation. I was right about her name not being Heather. As hard as I tried, I couldn't recall her name or the man's name appearing in my mind's eye. Deep inside my heart, I knew the man was important to me.
I searched my pockets for my phone. It wasn't there. Where did it go? I never went anywhere without it. When I searched the surrounding area, I couldn't find any cordless or mobile phones in sight.
A man entered the room. He wore a mechanic's jumpsuit and a red devil mask. He had many tattoos on his arm. One of the tattoos was a paw print accentuated by the letters CSS. His skin tone was darker than mine but lighter than the man accompanying Heather from the room. Red Devil had dark hair peeking from where the mask touched his neck. I couldn't see his eye colour, but I assumed they were brown.
"Who are you?" I asked.
"It doesn't matter," he replied. Red Devil rubbed a hand over his head, slightly dislodging the mask. He quickly fixed it. "You know the woman," Red Devil said.
I furrowed my brow, trying to figure out how I knew the woman. She seemed familiar, but I couldn't place her. "Sorry, I can't remember her," I replied.
"Hehehe. I guess she hit you harder than I thought. Are you feeling sick?" Red Devil asked. He seemed genuinely concerned about how I was feeling.
"A little," I replied. My breasts were sensitive too. Red Devil didn't need to know that. I touched my neck, finding a chain around my neck. Tugging on the necklace, I pull it from between my breasts. Wedding bands and dog tags are attached to the chain. I was married. The tags contained the rank and serial number of the soldier, but his name was etched. I couldn't make out the name.
"Heather will bring you food," Red Devil said. He left the room without telling me why I was his captive.
Another man entered the room. He placed a finger over his lips, asking me to stay quiet. I instantly knew I could trust him. The man seemed familiar. "Do you know my name?" he asked, sitting beside me on the bed.
"No. Please, don't tell me. I must remember on my own," I replied.
"Call me Panther. I'll get you out of here," he promised.
"Not yet," I whispered. "We need to find out who kidnapped me and why."
"I'll find out. Do you know your name?" Panther asked.
"Stephanie Plum," I whispered. "Where are we?"
"Brooklyn," Panther replied. I touched the teardrop beneath his eye. Panther closed his eyes, waiting for me to get my fill. My spidey sense said I knew the man. "Did they hurt or sexually assault you?"
"No. My breasts and head hurt. Otherwise, I'm unharmed." I peeked inside my shirt to check my chest. "No bruises. I'm not sure why they hurt."
Panther grinned and motioned that I was pregnant. He covered my mouth before I could voice my opinion. "Shh. Don't let them know," Panther warned.
"Do I know you?" I asked, picking up on the fact that he knew I was pregnant. Panther nodded. He opened his eyes to stare into mine. "We're friends," I reasoned.
"Yes," Panther replied. "I hope you remember everything soon." Panther kissed my cheek before disappearing. The scent of his cologne lingered for a few minutes. It was comforting and familiar. I knew Panther and I were close friends. What was his name?
The woman, Heather, returned with food. My stomach rolled from the pungent stench. She brought me Brussels sprouts, asparagus, mashed turnips and liver covered with some revolting brown gravy with chunks of mushrooms. "Eat up," Heather said. Heather smirked before leaving the room. She locked the door behind her.
I gagged and moved the food away from me. Panther was right about my pregnancy. I usually ate those vegetables, but I did not enjoy the liver. Mom would cook it, and I'd find a way to get invited to Mary Lou's for dinner.
It took a few days of refusing to eat for Heather to bring me more sensible meals. She didn't want me dead. I learned much from Heather while I pretended to be asleep.
Heather met a man several years earlier. He was dating another woman who claimed to be his wife. Neither the man nor the woman wore wedding bands to prove their commitment. Heather bumped into the man and the lying skank in the waiting room at the dentist's office. Something about her story seemed out of place. Like it was at the doctor's office, and she was working there. I tried to recover the memory, but it disappeared. The more I attempted to force my brain to remember, the further away it went.
I dreamed of the man with spiky blond hair and green eyes every night for several weeks. I could feel his touch in my dreams, as though I was reliving a memory. He smiled when I called him Sexy. It wasn't his name. I realized it was my term of endearment for the gorgeous man. "What's your name?" I asked the man in my dreams.
"You already know, Beautiful," he replied. I woke up gasping. He called me Beautiful. His name was on the tip of my tongue before it vanished.
"Why can't I remember?" I whispered.
A few minutes after I opened my eyes, I looked out the barred window, then marked another notch on the wall. I got kidnapped at least three weeks ago. Who knows how long I was unconscious?
The man with the teardrop tattoo returned. He passed me soda crackers and ginger ale. It seemed to be something he had done in the past. "Gracias, Hector, mi hermano," I replied without thinking. (Thank you, Hector, my brother)
"Mi hermana, you remember me," Hector said. (My sister)
"I do," I whispered. "But I don't remember my husband's name. I knew you in college, so I remembered you first." Memories of Hector helping me with my computer course flooded my mind. Hints of the sexy blond man with green eyes infiltrated my thoughts.
"I can tell you about your husband," Hector offered. I shook my head. A noise outside the room startled us. Hector talked rapidly in Spanish. I caught the occasional word. He sounded angry, though not directed at me.
"Hmm. I see you've been getting cozy with the help," Heather sneered. "It seems you found some snacks."
"Have you made progress with that man?" I asked.
"It's going to take a few more days before I have him where I want him," Heather replied. "He's almost ready to come home with me." Her words triggered a memory.
"I made out with him before he met that ugly bitch. He was ready to come home with me until she arrived. What does she have that I don't?"
"A personality? Give it up, Sasha. They're married. He chose her," the other woman replied.
The sexy blond man was Lester Santos. My husband's name was Lester, and we had a child together. I rubbed my abdomen where our second child was growing. Lester was probably frantic. Mama was likely worried. Hopefully, Mateo didn't miss me too much.
I had to get a message to Hector to tell Lester why I got kidnapped. Sasha, the fucking bitch from Club Carina and Dr. DiCecco's office in the clinic. She wanted my husband so bad that she kidnapped me. But why did she get men from the Comstock Street Slayers to help?
We needed to get Sasha to lower her guard to uncover the rest of her pathetic plan to get a married man to leave his wife. I never considered myself beautiful, but my husband thought I was gorgeous. His opinion was the only one that mattered. Lester would never leave me unless he had no other choice.
It took a few more days before Hector could visit me. He listened as I quietly explained what we had to do. Hector slipped a gun for me to hide in my room. It was the one I used for training in Rangeman Atlanta. Implementing the plan without a way to protect myself wasn't wise. I couldn't trust Sasha. She hadn't figured out I was pregnant yet.
"I'll tell you when your husband comes," Hector whispered.
"No. My reaction has to be real. Thanks," I replied, tucking the gun beneath my pillow for quick access. Nobody checked my bed after someone entered my room. Hector knew he had to leave because the Red Devil always visited me in the evening before Sasha brought my dinner. I couldn't understand why Red Devil wanted to talk to me daily.
Red Devil arrived twenty minutes after Hector left. I was surprised Red Devil brought my dinner. There was too much food for me to consume. "Help me eat," I offered. Without thinking, Red Devil removed his mask. His eyes were brown, as I assumed. However, he couldn't have been more than fifteen.
"This is good," Red Devil replied.
I waited until he was distracted, then asked, "What's your name?"
"Anton Ward," he answered. I passed him the plate to continue eating. My appetite wasn't the best with the morning sickness.
"Why am I here?" I asked.
"Sorry, I can't tell you," he replied. "But if you guessed right, I will confirm."
"Heather talked you into kidnapping me. She promised to get you into the inner circle of the Slayers," I said. I neglected to mention that Sasha was trying to steal my husband. Anton probably didn't know that part of Sasha's plan. "Once Heather achieves whatever she wants, you get to have me."
"You're mostly correct. I'll have to share you with Heather's brother," Anton replied.
"Was he the man I saw when I woke up on the first day?" I asked. I never considered Sasha to be related to one of my captors. Anton nodded but never offered the man's name.
"I have to go," Anton said, realizing he disclosed too much. Anton took the empty plate when he left my room. I heard him lock the door.
Tears dripped off my chin. I assumed Sasha would release me after stealing my husband. Knowing it wasn't the case was devastating. I had two ways to escape my prison; shoot my way free or die. Neither option led me home to my son.
At much too early o'clock, I heard men moving outside my window. Their stealth got ruined when someone stepped on a twig. The snap woke me from sleep. I grabbed the gun from beneath my pillow.
Metal squelched and whined as someone attempted to remove the bars. It was pointless; they got secured inside the exterior wall during construction.
"Wake up, bitch," Sasha screamed as my door slammed against the wall.
"No need to yell," I snapped. "I'm awake." I sat on the bed, pushing the flat pillows behind my back for comfort.
"Lester refused to take me home," Sasha yelled. "He wouldn't return my kiss. I wore this sexy outfit for no reason."
Sasha's dress barely covered the essential bits. Her breasts were more voluptuous. Huh, she must have got implants. They were too symmetrical to be natural. I never noticed it before. She was an attractive woman, but her gorgeous face and body got marred by the bitchiness shining from within.
"Who's Lester?" I asked, playing dumb.
"Your husband, you ugly cunt," Sasha said. "He belongs to me!" Sasha ranted about meeting Lester first, and he wanted her until I distracted him that day at Club Carina.
"Why Lester?" I asked.
"He was the sole heir to the Santos fortune," Sasha replied when Lester entered the room with Carlos. Lester put a finger to his lip. He wanted me to get more information from Sasha without telling her that others had entered the room.
"What do you know about the Santos money or inheritance?" I wondered, tilting my head to the side. I had my gun in my right hand, tucked beneath the blanket.
"I know it made Lester a multi-millionaire. I had plans for that money," Sasha snarled.
"Really?" Lester asked. Sasha froze in her spot. She shook the cobwebs from her head.
"Hey, handsome. I didn't realize you followed me home," Sasha purred. She raised her right hand, containing a gun nobody noticed. At least, I never saw it. Carlos had his eyes trained on her hand.
He caught my eye, trying to tell me something with the ESP I only shared with Hector, Vince and Lester. Carlos glared, then looked at Sasha's gun. I shook my head. It had to happen. Sasha needed to take the first shot.
Carlos quirked a brow when I removed my hand from the blanket. I raised my weapon, pointing it at Sasha. Dad's words entered my mind. "Do not point a gun at anyone unless you intend to discharge it."
"How did you get that?" Sasha screeched. She pulled the trigger a second before I drew mine. A searing pain ripped through my flesh. I fell backwards as Sasha dropped to the floor.
