Devil to Pay

Chapter 4

This chapter is edited by @Audrey88. Thanks @Audrey88, and thank you all for reading, you just make my day! :D

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I shrank into the backseat, crammed between twin Hulks, forced to listen to the two retards bicker about ways to threaten people without a weapon.

“I settle with the psycho threat.” The imbecile one raised his right fist for effect. “Or maybe pull out some awesome Jackie Chan moves. You know like this….” He swung his hands wildly, making the classic snake-like move complete with the trademark yowl. He punched the innocent dashboard before yelling a string of curses that would have gave my grandma dozens of heart-attacks. His fellow imbecile laughed his ass off, diverting his attention from driving, almost killing everyone in the car as the vehicle swerved wildly on the road. Oh my gosh! Were they drunk or high or what?

I looked cautiously outside the car window. Buildings and trees passed us in a blur. The streets were fairly vacant and the car was speeding freely beyond the speed limit. I was amazed that no police had stopped us yet. They were most blatantly driving recklessly and the car's mad veerings obviously reflect that. Glancing at the street signs, I knew we had well drove our way out of my house area. I was headed to a place I didn't know.

All along our 'nice' trip, I felt a strong malicious vibe radiating from the person on my right, effectively causing the hair to stand all over my body. I lowered my head in a meek stance, hoping to just stay out of trouble without avail. I knew it was the matter of when and not if. Still, I did not want to catalyze the process of my most probable death. In fact, I still nurtured a slight hope of escaping. But still, my imagination ran wild, which did little to help my circumstances.

I looked around silently, assessing my situation. There were three boys and one man in this car. My lovely kidnappers. Note the sarcasm. Between the two retards in the front seat, I didn’t recognize the blonde that was steering the wheel; but, the other bloke-head with brown hair I knew as Anakin, one of Quinn's minions at school. Where the minion is, there also the devil. Unluckily for me, the devil seemed to thoroughly enjoy my presence at his side - basking in my submission, I guess.

I didn’t dare to glance in his direction. Maybe a ghost meddled with my mind when I kicked his balls today because all my bravery from that previous fiasco had evaporated into thin air. I attempted to ignore his presence, attempted being the key word here, but our closeness caused me to be susceptible to every single movement he made, leaving me somehow breathless in the bad way. A shiver of fear went through my spine as our thighs kept touching whenever the car turned, which was very often. His leg was hard and cold like a brick wall. Very. Unpleasant.

I tried to distract myself by assessing the only adult here on my left. He was even bigger than Quinn. Bulging muscles were clearly visible beneath his half-unbuttoned shirt and tight blue jeans. Funny, those big pieces of meat reminded me of butchered cows that hanged in a butcher kiosk in a market; you know, the scene you usually found in historical films. Maybe because of the fact that he didn’t look like he belonged in this century. It was his aura. Or maybe it was the way his long, almost-white, blonde hair was pulled neatly behind his head, or how his long legs bent uncomfortably between the seats. The car seemed much too small for him. I shuddered imagining what a single punch from him could do to my bones.

What was an adult like him doing with Quinn and his groupies in the first place? Babysitting them? I snorted as I pictured a bunch of testosterone filled babies. A few seconds later, I realized that I had done it out loud. My eyes shifted anxiously to Quinn, only to meet his intense gaze. His eyebrows scrunched in concentration, and an apprehensive glint graced his eyes. My breath caught in my throat and I lowered my head immediately, paling at the thought of the torment he had in mind.