Chasing White [Draft 1]

Chapter 31: Muscle Memory

San José. June 10, 2025.

My knees buckle beneath me as I get shoved to the floor. The man keeps a strong hand on my shoulder, making sure that I won't be able to push myself back up.

I tug at the restraints around my wrist but to no avail.

Tori glares up at the man, licking at her bloody lip. Her eyes scan the room, trying to find a way out. Rachel gets pushed down next to me, a small grunt coming out of her mouth.

"Don't hurt her!" I yell, trying to wiggle closer to her. The man shoves me back into place, keeping his hand on my shoulder. I look over at Rachel, checking that she doesn't have any injuries like Tori.

"Rachel, are you okay?" I try to lean forward and am quickly pulled back by the man in the motorcyclist glasses that squeeze his head. Maybe they can squeeze his head hard enough that it would explode. I really want it to explode. Doing that thing right now would be a really good plan. Come on, glasses, just explode already!

"Yeah." Rachel nods, looking around the brown wood themed office. "I'm fine. We just-" She glances at the guard before lowering her voice to a terrible whisper that my students use when they want to pretend that I can't hear them but I can clearly hear them just like the guard behind me can clearly hear Rachel when she whispers. "We need to get out of here."

I lean forward again and quickly copy Rachel's terrible whisper before the guard pulls me back into my uncomfortable sitting up on my knees position. "Maybe you should become a better whisperer before you say our actual plan."

Rachel scowls, and starts struggling in her bonds. Sam and Jazz do that same thing with a little more grunting and struggling than Rachel.

Tori lets out a ferocious cry, turning her fierce glare on the guard behind us. "Who the hell are you? What do you want with us, eh? Who the hell's your boss? Let me out and I can take him! I can rip out his fucking throat!" Tori shakes again and falls forward, landing on her face with a rough grunt. Her head comes too close to the wooden chair that I think she really hit it for a few seconds before realizing that it's too far away to do anything.

"Tori!" I gasp, trying to walk my knees forward but having very little progress considering how sore I am. The guard pulls me back then grabs Tori by her hair, pulling her up. She lets out a loud yelp, her arms ready to go back and rub the sore spot but the restrains stop her.

"Please, Tori, tell me you're okay! Stop struggling. Just listen to whatever the man wants. Do whatever the man wants!" I beg.

"Shut up and stay put!" The guard snaps, setting Tori in the right position, keeping her head tilted back with his grip on her hair. Someone starts to fiddle with the doorknob on the other side of the door and everyone looks over, waiting for the worst.

It could be a man with a gun.

Or a man in a suit who's going to sleep with one of us.

Or- oh stop. I've been spending way too much time with Rachel. And Tori. None of this is possible.

A stout man walks into the room, looking like what I imagine a Mexican drug dealer would look like. Like that one character from The Godfather (the only move that I've seen that I remember).

"I walk into my hotel room this morning and hear that there is a group of scoundrels who have destroyed my lobby." A thick accent comes out of the man's mouth, clearly from South America.

What the hell am I saying? We are in South America.

"There wasn't much left to destroy. Your lobby already looked like a piece of shit." Tori gives the man a sickly sweet smile, her bottom lip already swelling.