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Scheduled for Friday
by Anton M.
62: Riley's Philosophy
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Sunday, February 26 (cont.)
Shaky, quick breaths took over, but I stopped moving, reevaluating my situation.
I'd fucked up. I'd royally fucked up. Edward would've never sent me an invitation to come over to his trailer park or asked me to override my parents' direct wishes. He would've never even sent me a message like that. It wasn't his style. Edward was kind and considerate. He would've said something about whether or not he was ready talk. Fuck I was stupid.
Stupid, stupid, stupid.
My stomach twisted when I thought about what might've happened to him. To leave his motorcycle out, just like that? For Victoria to have his phone, he must've been knocked out somewhere. Otherwise, my kidnappers must've known he'd be the first on their tail.
Tears prickled my eyes.
Please be okay, love. Please be unharmed.
I'd left my parents a note. They'd look for me. They could make the entire fucking world look for me.
But what if Victoria or Carl drove this car? A drunk or a methhead? We'd crash before getting anywhere.
I swallowed my panic, blinking, trying to adjust to the darkness, but the trunk was pitch black.
Calm down.
Focus on your breathing. Deep, slow, deliberate.
I shut my eyes as tight as I could, allowing my tears to spill over. Involuntary tears—a breathless, surreal reaction. I accepted it. Crying wasn't the end of the world.
Think.
What can you control?
My phone! Fuck, my phone was sharing my location. Yes! I rolled on my stomach, or as close as I could get to it, feeling for it. My phone wasn't there. I only felt the little dinosaur in my jeans and a tightness around my neck as I moved.
My phone must've fallen out when I was fighting them.
Fuck.
Okay. Okay. Can't change that, now. Just breathe.
Tightness around my neck! I was wearing my necklace!
Edward, you'd better fucking marry me.
Surreal relief was followed by scooting, shifting, and wriggling to get my necklace out from under my clothes. After a bit of struggle, I caught the chain in my scarf-covered mouth and pulled it out.
How to open it? I wriggled my head, back and forth, hurting my lips and cheeks, thankful for the amount of bounce my hair gave the scarf as I pressed my chin against my neck and turned my head until I injured the edge of my lip but struggled out of it.
Ow, ow, ow.
Breaths, deep breaths. Pain is just nerve endings doing their shit.
It's okay. You're okay.
Deep breaths.
I spat on the wall in case there was ever any question about whether this car had carried me in it.
Not seeing anything, I smushed my face against the bottom of the trunk until I felt the little book and bit it sideways into my mouth. Years of biting my nails paid off as I opened the locket with my teeth.
Take that, people who want me to stop biting my nails! I havetooth dexterity.
I let out an out-of-body laugh before I shut up, not wanting the people in the car to know I'd managed to remove my scarf.
To cover for my mistake, I moan-screamed as loud as I could and banged my feet against the trunk of the car before I refocused my efforts.
The tiniest red light was blinking inside the locket, making its location easier. I tried pushing it with my nose, but the locket didn't open 180 degrees, it only opened 90, so I was out of luck. What to use, what to use? I swallowed rapidly to make my mouth drier before using my tongue, and I thought I felt the button but I was terrified that my saliva would've disabled the whole thing.
Beautiful creation, my love. In your next version, can you cover the electronics and make it water-proof?
The fabric of the trunk scratched my face and I felt light-headed in paint fumes, but I could not feel any other items in the trunk. No tools, no bags, no random items. Only Riley's little monoclonius poking at my stomach, having fallen out of my pocket.
Oh my God. Riley's toy.
I shifted, scooted, and shuffled to get it closer to my face until I could grab it with my teeth and waited for the little red blink from the locket before I aimed its tail at the button.
It worked! The red light stayed on for the two seconds I pressed the button.
Holy shit. Poems will be written about your philosophy, Riley. Dinosaurs do make everything better!
Hoping that at least one of the people who had Edward's app noticed the message, I decided to only press the button when I felt the car turn, so that if my parents were to chase us, they'd have live updates but I wouldn't drain the battery of my magical locket.
Feeling the car pick up speed, probably on a highway, I began to feel how much I could move in handcuffs and tied ankles. Either I had smaller-sized hands or Peter's dad had no experience cuffing people, but my handcuffs were not tight against my wrists. I pulled with my left hand and pushed with my right, wriggling, scraping my skin as I did so.
Ow, ow, ow.
But I could squeeze it closer to my palm. I could feel it.
Dismissing my previous decision, I decided to press the button when I realized that the car was almost certainly on a highway. I waited for the little red light in my locket to give me direction before I pressed my new favorite dinosaur against the button, ensuring that the light stayed on with my pressing. It did.
Resting my throbbing head against the bottom of the trunk, I refocused on my hands. I strained against the metal as I pushed and pulled in my cuffs. I tried and failed, tried and failed, again and again. Panting, I let out a frustrated growl before covering for it with a muffled moan and some banging of my feet against the trunk.
Recognizing that some amount of time must've passed since I'd pressed my dinosaur against the button, I did just that before returning my attention to my hands. I turned my left hand in the handcuffs, biting down on the toy in my mouth as I hurt myself. My skin burned and scraped but I finally wriggled the cuff to the tightest part of my palm, my thumb knuckle.
Fucking ow.
I exhaled slowly, attempting to relax my hand as I twisted my palm while pulling as hard as I could, ignoring my hurt.
I hit my elbow against the side of the trunk as I yanked my hand out of the cuff.
Holy shit. My arms were free.
I repositioned in the trunk and spat out Riley's dinosaur before I pressed the button for longer, hoping they'd realize something had changed, and I considered sending them an SOS message in morse code before I realized I didn't know it. Three short, three long, three short? Or was it the other way around?
Why didn't they teach morse code at school? What a waste.
I considered pressing the button with my finger, on and off, but I didn't dare to freak anyone out if my pattern of sending my location changed. I didn't want to risk draining the miniature battery.
Had anyone noticed I'd been sending them my location? Had they called each other? Did they call the cops? Was Emmett going to murder me if I came out of this alive?
Oh shit. Victoria had Edward's phone. I must've been pinging it. Did she realize what those notifications were? Had Edward set it up in a way where the app gave a notification of coordinates with no other information?
I slid closer to one side of the trunk as the car appeared to be turning right. I pressed the button. As we slowed down, I realized that I hadn't released my ankles from the zip ties. They were tight. Unable to untie them, I tore off my shoes, slid one foot closer to the other, almost certainly drawing blood as I turned, wriggled and yanked my leg out of it.
The car turned right again. The sound changed. It felt like gravel road. Heart pounding out of my chest, I pressed my button one last time, clicked my locket closed and put it around my neck. I slipped Riley's dinosaur (covered in my saliva) in my jean pocket and took deep breaths.
I tried to steady my rapid breathing.
Victoria and the man I presumed was Peter's dad had said they didn't intend to hurt me, but what if they'd lied? Why would they tell me in advance if they intended to hurt me? It was most likely that they wanted ransom money, but I decided I didn't want to find out. I'd run. I'd hit them, bite them, distract them. I'd steal this car if I could.
The car came to a full stop. I waited, heart in my throat, hearing muffled talking and footsteps on gravel. The trunk opened, letting in a sliver of dim light. Searing pain shot through my arm as I hit a man in his nuts with my fist. He fell, crying out in pain. I jumped out of the car, catching a surprised Victoria off guard as I smashed her nose in.
Holy fucking shit that hurt.
Ow-the-fucking-oww.
I frantically looked around and caught a figure in the dim light, Edward's dad—talking to empty air, swaying, no doubt high as a kite. I ignored him. We were on the driveway of a solitary house with no neighbors but lights from the main road could be seen behind trees, and when I noticed that one of my abductors had arrived on Edward's motorcycle, I hopped on it with the determination of a thousand suns, kick-starting the warm bike.
Peter's dad moaned, crouched over, but he began to limp toward me. Victoria lay on the grass, unmoving, face covered in blood.
Please tell me I didn't kill her. Please tell me I didn't kill her. Please no.
I wobbled slightly on Edward's heavy bike as I escaped to the main road. Laughing maniacally through my tears, not from happiness but from some visceral emotion that couldn't be denied because this entire thing did not just happen to me, I took a left and another left, remembering their two consecutive rights. I checked the signs and changed gears, higher, speeding away from them without a helmet, without my shoes, without my phone.
Holy shit. Had this just happened?
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A/N: Absolutely adore having you all here! Thank you for sharing your questions and thoughts and little discussions :) they make me so happy!