What's your Price?

Chapter 2- Baristo

Chapter 2

Date: April 17th

Location: Wolfs Den

Time: 6:02 p.m.

I look at the man in the shadows trying to get a better look at who was going to take me to prison. Shit, shit, shit! I thought it was all behind me but obviously it wasn’t. Did they get Lucia and Chris too? Are they in jail already? Would we get a trial? I mentally smack my forehead at the stupidity of the thought. I doubt that they were going to hold a trial to someone who hacked into a top secret government database.

“I don’t know what you are talking about.” I lie pathetically and briefly consider taking acting classes. I seemed cool and suave with the rest of the things I did, but when it came to someone confronting me about what I had done, well I may as well just tell them the truth.

The man gives out a short laugh and grabs one of the high chairs to place in front of the door to slow me down in case I tried to escape. He stalks forward.

My palms sweat and I had a death grip on the strap of my backpack that dug into my shoulder. I desperately looked for another exit besides the obvious. How much would it hurt to go through a window? The man gets closer.

I turn around, a stupid move when a creepy psychopath it getting closer to you, and grabbed one of the many glass coffee pots. I face him again and chuck the pot at his face as hard as I could. Due to the close proximity it nailed him. He let out a shriek of pain as the shards of glass dug into his skin.

I run as far around him as I can and head for the door. I toss the chair out of the way and just as I am about to reach the door and taste sweet freedom he grabs me bag and yanks me to his chest. I struggle and I hear a click. The next thing I know is that something cold and sharp is touching my neck. I am such an idiot! Why the hell didn’t I drop the bag? If I did I would be free. My eyes burn as tears surface. I would not cry in front of my killer or captor, come to think of it I didn’t know what he wanted.

“I’m not going to kill you.” He said. I gulp down my fear.

“How do I know that?” The knife at my neck isn’t helping your case.

“Because that wasn’t what I was assigned to do.” Assigned to do? What is this CSI? He takes a breath to calm himself. “I am going to let you go but you aren’t going to run, understand? Just because I won’t kill you doesn’t mean I won’t hurt you.” I nod my head to afraid to talk. The pressure from my neck goes away and I hear another click. “Take a seat.”

I quickly grab another high chair to sit in and plop down in it flexing my fingers an annoying habit I have the irritates the hell out of my friends when they won’t stop moving. The man picks up the other fallen high chair and places it in front of the doorway before sitting down in it staring at me.

Because of the darkness I still couldn’t see what he really looked like but I could tell he wasn’t wearing his hat and he had dark streaks trickling down his face. It was safe to assume that it was his cuts from the coffee pot that were bleeding.

“Who are you?” I ask again.

“I’m not here to take you to jail if that’s what you think.” He answers instead and I feel my shoulders drop slightly in relief.

“I don’t understand.”

“None of them did.” What did he mean by that? Who else would get a visit from evil barista guy over here? “But I am here because of what you did to be put in jail.” I open my mouth to deny whatever he thought before realizing that it would do me no good seeing as he already knew too much.