The Sybian Hire

Contained

⚠️SOME VIOLENCE/ABUSE⚠️

Apple

  My head hurt, throbbing pains rocking through it. My mouth was dry enough to feel like sandpaper and the air was cold and muggy, clinging to my skin.

  The smell of rust clouded my senses and, even when I opened my eyes, everything was dark. I shifted, moaning in pain.

  I was sitting in a chair, the cold metal of it biting my skin. I tried to rub my eyes but my hands wouldn't budge, rough rope digging into my wrists.

  They were bound to the arms of the metal chair and I could feel my ankles were in the same state.

  Fear consumed me as I realized I was trapped.

  By the eco of my groans and heavy breathing, I knew I was in a metal box of some sort. I need to think; I need to get out of this. What do they do on TV?

  I don't have a sharp edge to cut the rope with. I could throw myself to the ground, shattering the chair as I go, but it's metal and I doubt it would work.

  Aric.

  Oh my god, Aric. He was bleeding! He was fucking bleeding, shit I need to get out of here. I need to make sure he's okay!

  I hopelessly struggled in my bonds, the metal chair scraped harshly along the floor, the sound almost deafening.

  Fuck, there was so much blood.

  A loud creak echoed and light poured into the space, making me groan and shy away from it. When I looked, it seems the wall along the opposite side had opened up. Two figures stood in the light.

The doors closed behind them somewhat, some light still seeping in. There was a click as one of the men pulled something and a light flickered on above me like a spotlight.

I could see them more clearly now. One I recognized from the penthouse. Memories flashed through my mind of waking up to him on the floor with Aric.

If only I grabbed the gun sooner, Aric wouldn't have been hurt.

The other man, I didn't recognize. He wore a nice, very expensive suit. He carried himself as if he were the most important man in the world.

But I could see inconsistencies.

His suit was a size too big, as if it weren't his. And his fancy, thousand dollar watch was really a cheep knockoff of the real thing. He may be in charge right here, right now, but something tells me this man is no higher up.

I saw this a lot in clients, men trying to compensate for what they clearly don't have.

He looks me up and down, standing right in front of me just a few feet away. God, he reeks of cheep cigars. The other guy is behind him and to the left, arms crossed.

I almost grinned when I saw his busted and bleeding face. I could even see stitches running over his eyebrow.

My baby did a number on him.

We all sat there in silence, waiting patiently for someone to break. I only glared, trying not to reveal my urge to slice the other guys throat for stabbing Aric.

"Hm," the guy with the cheep Rolex hums in approval, "aren't you gonna beg us to let you go?"

He smiles at this, like it's a game, but I refuse to beg for my life. I refuse to give these men my weakness.

"Begging doesn't get you shit," I spit, trying my best to sound unintimidated. They have to work for Midsky. He lost the case and now they want revenge.