THIS JOB SUCKS!

Chapter 29

Chapter 29

Whitney groaned. She was getting really sick of waking up in pain. She opened her eyes and looked around. This was Madraeus' room. She whimpered. She was also getting sick of waking up in other peoples' bedrooms. She didn't remember moving to the bed, but at least she wasn't going to be stiff from sleeping in the chair.

Gently she felt her neck. It still hurt, a lot. She said an experimental "hello" but it sounded like a raspy burp. No answering phones today, she sighed. She looked around for a clock. There wasn't one. 

'Great,' she thought, 'I'm probably late for work. If I still have a job.'

She couldn't believe that this nightmare was finally over. They had caught Justin. She was free. But what now? Would she still work here or would they send her away because she no longer needed protection? Did she want to stay here? After everything that happened she should want to leave but surprisingly she didn't, although she could live without the constant injuries. She liked it here, she liked the people, and she liked doing something that mattered. It wasn't one of those air head jobs where you only filled a space. She could affect people's lives here, even if it was slightly non-human people.

She couldn't imagine what it would be like to go back to the normal world, back to friends and fast food and to only worrying about what was in fashion or spending money just to alleviate boredom. Was that all she had done with her life?  How could she fit back into that world knowing what she did now? It was all so frivolous. It was like Philtzer said there was so much more to life. She felt restless. She knew she couldn't just stay here. 

She heaved herself out of bed groaning aloud from all the aches and pains she had collected then hobbled to the door. Opening it a crack she peeked out. The room was empty. Quietly she left the bedroom wrapping the robe tighter around her. She let herself into the study it was deserted too. She continued on to the hallway. 

As she approached her kitchen door she slowed. It was completely whole. Whitney frowned. She vaguely remembered Madraeus bursting through it last night.  The memory of all the carnage and violence that had happened past that door made her hands shake as she reached out to open it. 

She gaped at the sight of her apartment. It was spotless, but it wasn't her apartment. The carpet was a different color and the walls were painted a pale shade of blue now. The furniture had been replaced but there wasn't as much of it as there had been. She moved forward slowly inspecting every inch of the room. Every bit of evidence from last night was gone. It was like it never happened. She reached up and touched her throat to remind herself that it had been real.

Whitney went into the bathroom to examine her neck. It was discolored and there were finger marks on either side. Her head was tender where her hair had been pulled out. She winced as she pulled the robe back and felt her ribs where she had landed on the coffee table. They were turning purple. She sighed. She had never been this beat up in her life.

Shaking her head she walked to her bedroom. Thankfully it hadn't been touched last night. She rummaged around and found a comfortable pair of jeans and a lightweight turtle neck sweater. There was nothing she could do about her voice but she could at least hide her bruises. 

As she was pulling on her tennis shoes her personal phone rang. She glanced at the number and went still. It was the number that Justin had called her from. She let it ring too frightened to answer it.  It went silent for a moment then started to ring again. Finally she flipped the phone open.

"Hello, Whitney," a sultry voice purred before she could say anything.

"Who is this?" she rasped.

"Oh you don't sound like yourself at all," the voice sympathized, "that's too bad."

"Who is this?" she tried again trying to place the voice. It sounded familiar.

"Surely you recognize a catty bitch when you hear one," she snarled.

Catty bitch? It took her a moment to remember who she had called a catty bitch but finally it dawned on her. "Cecelia?" Whitney whispered tentatively.

"Oh so I see they told you who you insulted." Cecelia laughed. 

"What do you want?" Whitney held her throat, talking hurt.

"Ah, that is the question." Cecelia purred. Whitney waited. She wasn't going to play that game. She heard Cecelia sigh when she didn't answer.

"You have someone that I want," Cecelia explained. "I would like you to go and find Justin for me and bring him downstairs."

"No way," Whitney rasped.

"Oh yes you will." Cecelia's voice became hard, "if you want to see your Grandmother again."

Whitney's blood turned to ice. She closed her eyes and prayed that this was just a nightmare. It was supposed to be over now. They had caught Justin.

"Whitney, are you still listening?" Whitney forced herself to pay attention. "You will go bring me Justin or you will find pieces of your Grandmother scattered from one side of this city to the other."

"NO!" Whitney's screamed silently. "You leave her alone!"

"Shh, we don't want to attract attention." Cecelia warned.

"But I don't even know where they took him. How am I supposed to do this?" Whitney cried.

"You'll find detention cells upstairs in Madraeus' apartment. Wait until they sleep and then take him out the back elevator. We will be waiting for you at the bottom. You will not tell anyone or that will be the end of dear granny."

"Wait," Whitney started but the phone went dead. Frantically she called her Grandmother's house. Precious seconds ticked away while the phone rang and rang and rang again. She paced around her room and then into the living room. She tried again. Still no answer.

"No! No! NO! NO!" she cried. What was she going to do? She couldn't let them hurt her Grandmother but there was no way she was going to be able to sneak Justin out of here unnoticed.

She had to think. Her brain was frozen. She yanked the curtain open letting the sun in. She looked toward the street trying to see any tinted window cars but it was too far down for her to see. What was she going to do?