Page 138
Story: Cam Girl
I check the room for anything I missed. At least I’ll getsome distance between us before they are even more involved. Maybe Soren won’t be too sad to see me go.
I tiptoe out of the room, barely daring to breathe.
There’s no holding back the tears, though. Even silently, they fall, dripping into the collar of my jacket on my way out the door.
By the time the boys get up, I’ll be gone. They’ll probably think to check the trailer, which is why I can’t stay there long, either. Only long enough to figure out a suitable destination.
I drop down in the front seat and bite my knuckles to stop from bawling like a baby.
There’s no need to overthink this or try to find excuses as to why staying will work. I know it won’t. Not when they've already decided among the three of them.They’re not the kind of men to give up, either.
I should be grateful for the attention, for their willingness to help. I’ve never had anyone do that sort of thing for me before, outside of my sisters, and there were times I considered it their obligation because of blood.
But these guys, they’re stepping up because of me. Because they want to.
How can I stay, in good conscience, and possibly cause harm to them?
I manage to make it to the end of the driveway and the dirt road leading toward the main route to town. The tears are pouring out of me, as strong as the ocean tide. Damn it. I’m not normally a crier. I ease up on the gas and jerk off my fogged eyeglasses.
Suddenly there’s a loud pop, and my heart lurches into my throat as I grab the wheel, fighting to maintain control when the car goes into a skid, fishtailing. A terrible thud sounds from the front two wheels.
I somehow manage to get the car to the side of the road without crashing, but I’m tilted sideways, the passenger sidetires inches away from dropping into the gulley beside the road.
Did I hit something?
Just because I didn’t see anything doesn’t mean the road is clear. I must have?—
The driver side window explodes inward.
My scream is automatic, acidic, an animalistic screech as a faceless man reaches in through the opening to grab me. Whatever tool he used to shatter the glass slices right through the seatbelt before gloved fingers take hold of my coat.
He hauls me out, still shouting, kicking, and twisting. Shards of the broken window dig against my thighs but there’s no stopping him.
This dude has to be over six foot four. A spooky ghost mask peers down at me and completely hides the identity of the person wearing it. The crash made it easier for him to get to me.
And no matter how I twist or kick, he’s got me in a bear hug, with my arms banded to my sides and unable to escape. Unable to fight back when he starts to squeeze and force the air out of my lungs.
“It took patience to figure out where you went.” The man’s voice is distant and hollow. “It wasn’t too hard to track you down, though.”
Just as I think I’m about to pass out from lack of oxygen, he lets me go. I nearly collapse, but before I have a chance to bolt, a fist slams against my temple and sends me spiraling down.
“That's for running,” he grunts.
Pain like I’ve never known splinters through my head. The man grabs me by the hair, yanking and pulling, dragging me away from my car.
“No one runs from me. Do you understand? There will be a certain payment required for this. For the work involved in getting you back.”
I kick against the ground, my Toms skidding through the loose leaves and finding no purchase. The man smacks me again for good measure, in the same spot. Searing pain consumes me.
“We’re going to take you back and beat the shit out of your brother and your boyfriend,” the man continues. His voice sounds like it’s coming through a wall of water. “For a different kind of cam show. This time, you’ll watch.”
He huffs out a laugh before grabbing me beneath the knees and shoving me into a car trunk.
My head’s spinning, and the strong stench of spilled gasoline and motor oil churns my stomach.
“People pay a lot for sex,” the man adds before he slams the trunk lid shut, “but they pay even more for death.”
Chapter 33
I tiptoe out of the room, barely daring to breathe.
There’s no holding back the tears, though. Even silently, they fall, dripping into the collar of my jacket on my way out the door.
By the time the boys get up, I’ll be gone. They’ll probably think to check the trailer, which is why I can’t stay there long, either. Only long enough to figure out a suitable destination.
I drop down in the front seat and bite my knuckles to stop from bawling like a baby.
There’s no need to overthink this or try to find excuses as to why staying will work. I know it won’t. Not when they've already decided among the three of them.They’re not the kind of men to give up, either.
I should be grateful for the attention, for their willingness to help. I’ve never had anyone do that sort of thing for me before, outside of my sisters, and there were times I considered it their obligation because of blood.
But these guys, they’re stepping up because of me. Because they want to.
How can I stay, in good conscience, and possibly cause harm to them?
I manage to make it to the end of the driveway and the dirt road leading toward the main route to town. The tears are pouring out of me, as strong as the ocean tide. Damn it. I’m not normally a crier. I ease up on the gas and jerk off my fogged eyeglasses.
Suddenly there’s a loud pop, and my heart lurches into my throat as I grab the wheel, fighting to maintain control when the car goes into a skid, fishtailing. A terrible thud sounds from the front two wheels.
I somehow manage to get the car to the side of the road without crashing, but I’m tilted sideways, the passenger sidetires inches away from dropping into the gulley beside the road.
Did I hit something?
Just because I didn’t see anything doesn’t mean the road is clear. I must have?—
The driver side window explodes inward.
My scream is automatic, acidic, an animalistic screech as a faceless man reaches in through the opening to grab me. Whatever tool he used to shatter the glass slices right through the seatbelt before gloved fingers take hold of my coat.
He hauls me out, still shouting, kicking, and twisting. Shards of the broken window dig against my thighs but there’s no stopping him.
This dude has to be over six foot four. A spooky ghost mask peers down at me and completely hides the identity of the person wearing it. The crash made it easier for him to get to me.
And no matter how I twist or kick, he’s got me in a bear hug, with my arms banded to my sides and unable to escape. Unable to fight back when he starts to squeeze and force the air out of my lungs.
“It took patience to figure out where you went.” The man’s voice is distant and hollow. “It wasn’t too hard to track you down, though.”
Just as I think I’m about to pass out from lack of oxygen, he lets me go. I nearly collapse, but before I have a chance to bolt, a fist slams against my temple and sends me spiraling down.
“That's for running,” he grunts.
Pain like I’ve never known splinters through my head. The man grabs me by the hair, yanking and pulling, dragging me away from my car.
“No one runs from me. Do you understand? There will be a certain payment required for this. For the work involved in getting you back.”
I kick against the ground, my Toms skidding through the loose leaves and finding no purchase. The man smacks me again for good measure, in the same spot. Searing pain consumes me.
“We’re going to take you back and beat the shit out of your brother and your boyfriend,” the man continues. His voice sounds like it’s coming through a wall of water. “For a different kind of cam show. This time, you’ll watch.”
He huffs out a laugh before grabbing me beneath the knees and shoving me into a car trunk.
My head’s spinning, and the strong stench of spilled gasoline and motor oil churns my stomach.
“People pay a lot for sex,” the man adds before he slams the trunk lid shut, “but they pay even more for death.”
Chapter 33
Table of Contents
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