Sitting in the back of the torn-apart car, everything is awkwardly silent. Even Alan seemed to understand that the atmosphere was tense and preoccupied himself but humming quietly.
"So you and Mike Tyson seem pretty close" I frown at the tone in Phil's voice. Why did he sound annoyed by my making friends with Mike? "The two of you just seemed really chummy."
"What is that supposed to mean?" I scoffed, glaring at the back of my 'husbands' head. As he sat in the passenger seat of the almost wrecked car.
"I'm not saying anything. It's just funny how we're being attacked by a tiger, and you're at a mansion drinking whiskey, making inside jokes with the guy who knocked out Alan!" Phil jams his thumb in Alan's direction, whose eye has now turned a lovely purple shade.
I hissed, hearing those words coming from him. "Don't bring Alan into this. Weren't you also just at that same mansion fanboying over him?" I dropped my tone to mock his "'Oh Mike, I'm such a big fan.' Grow up, Phil".
"Grow up?" The two of us began arguing over each other. This wasn't typical behavior for us which is probably why Alan and Stu looked so concerned.
"Stop fighting! You two never fight," Alan shouted, placing his hands over his ears and starting to yell over the sound of mine and Phil's arguing. It was like seeing the child of divorced parents.
Phil's eyes turned concerned for him, and I pried Alan's hands from his ears, hushing him. "Alan, calm down. We're not fighting. Phil just can't help but let his ego take over his brain, that's all".
The blue eyes man let out a sharp laugh. "Yeah, buddy, everything's fine. Lexi just can't see what's happening right in front of her. She never can" His eyes met mine with an emotion I couldn't place.
The two of us quickly began bickering again. It's like we really became an old married couple. Phil's jealousy was showing though I have no idea why. Mike Tyson's old enough to be my dad.
"Both of you, stop it! You're setting Alan off again," Stu shouted as Alan returned to rocking and singing with his hands over his ears. I sighed but again pulled his hands down and placed them in his lap.
The car is once again awkwardly silent as Stu drives us back toward the hotel. That was until Stu quietly said, "You know, everyone says Mike Tyson is such a badass, but I think he's kind of a sweetheart."
I nodded, understanding the man was nice to me, even if he didn't have to be. Leonard had been great too.
Alan pouted from next to me as he defiantly crossed his arms over his chest. "I think he's mean. He's making Phil and Lexi fight, too" I rolled my eyes at his words but didn't say anything.
Arguing with Phil already left a bad taste in my mouth.
"All right. I think it's officially time we call Tracy." Phil's words froze me. I thought we'd have more time to find Doug before we had to call Tracy. What would we tell her: Sorry, hun, we lost your supposed-to-be groom?
Stu throws one of his hands up, giving Phil a short glare. "Hallelujah. Finally, Phil says something that makes sense." He seemed both happy but annoyed at the taller man's conclusion.
"No! No, no, we can't call Tracy. It will kill her," I stuttered, pushing myself forward, our argument dissipating as I sent Phil a doe-eyed look shaking my head. "I can't- we can't!".
Being a part of the reason for my best friend's heartbreak made me feel like I could fall into a panic attack at any moment.
"We don't have much of a choice, Lexi." Phil huffs, pinching the top of his nose and sounding remorseful before he glances at Stu with a shrug. "Maybe she's heard from Doug."
"That's what I've been saying this whole time." Stu reiterates as I bite my lip. I wanted to call Tracy and tell her everything like I've always been able to do, but my parent's harsh words about my being able to fuck up every good thing I ever had echoed in my mind.
Stu pulls the car to a stop at a traffic light. Phil sighs, rubbing her face sounding as tired as we all felt. "We just need to be completely honest. We need to tell her everything."
"We don't have to tell her everything. We can leave out the stuff about me marrying a hooker. Just stay focused on Doug." Stu mumbled as I huffed a laugh. He'd be so lucky. No doubt Alan will tell everyone about it when we're back in LA.
"What am I gonna tell my dad?" Taking his hand, I gave him a small smile as he looked at our connected hands in shock. His eyes softened on the small plastic ring I had yet to take off my finger.
Phil turns to face Alan as the man sounds close to tears. I would be, too; we all know how much Mr. Garner loves this car. "Alan, relax. It's just the inside. Come on. I got a guy in L. A. Who's great with interiors".
Suddenly the car is slammed into and pushed across the road as the window smash on mine and Phil's side. My head hits the car door, causing my vision to double. Alan quickly latches on to my arm as we all scream.
The car hits an electric sign before it drops down through the roof, narrowly missing my head, though I see two of the signs in front of me. "Lexi?! Are you okay?" Stu gasps as I hold my head in my hands dizzily.
"I know that guy. That's the guy from the trunk," Alan exclaims. Opening one eye, I peeked through the front window and noticed that the small Asian man was definitely the one who had hit me with a crowbar before.
"Get out of the car. Please," He says with an angry expression; his demeanor seems different than earlier. He must be feeling tougher now he's got his 6ft goons with him.
"W... W... Wait. Those are the guys that shot Eddie," Stu says, stuttering, now noticing the same men I had.
I couldn't say anything as Phil was yanked out of the car shouting as he went before Stu was pulled out next, kicking and screaming. "Don't worry, Lexi, I'll save us," Alan whispers clumsily, climbing over me as I let out a pained groan.
"Get this other one. Get the fat boy". Next thing I knew, Alan was forcibly removed from the car, albeit harsher than the other guys, and it took both men to pull him out together.
"Don't forget the girl" Feeling a hand grab my arm, I groan, knowing what's about to happen. Stu and Phil are shouting in protest when they see the guy holding a bag leaning through the window.
Shockingly instead of being forcibly removed, the satchel guy lifted me out of the window with the same gentleness you would give a baby. "Don't you hurt her!" Phil yells as he and Stu are being pushed back by the other goon.
When my feet touched the ground, they buckled before two pairs of hands pulled me towards them. I didn't have to be coherent to know the feeling of Phil's body.
I was held up between Phil and Stu as the latter quietly asked if I was okay and checked me over. "What the hell is wrong with you guys" Stu shouted as Phil held me up.
"I want my purse back, assholes," The petite Asian man says, showing us the satchel clutched in his hands, which looks a lot like the one Alan was wearing last night.
"What? Your purse?" Phil questions sounding just as confused as I felt. Was all this for a stupid bag? The reason we've been beaten and shot at was over an accessory.
"That's not a purse; it's a satchel." Alan cries out, trying to catch his breath as he leans against the car.
"It's a purse. Okay?" The small man says as he points the bag at us with a low tone, his goons stand by his side with their hands on their hips menacingly, "And you steal from wrong guy."
I frown, trying to remember seeing this guy before he was naked in the trunk of our car. "Wait a second, wait a second. We stole from you?" Phil seemed to be in the same headspace I was in.
"Okay, you know what? We don't remember anything that happened last night, so help us out a little here." Stu spat out, much to my shock; his being confrontational was a rare display for him.
"Well, apparently, you guys met at a craps table late last night. You were on a heater, and he played your hot streak. He ended up winning just under 80 grand." For a tiny Asian man's goon, this guy was awfully good-looking.
Shit, we're in trouble here. I'm not supposed to be complimenting people on their looks right now.
"No shit? Eighty grand is nice." Phil and Stu nodded, complimenting the amount of money this guy had won. At that moment, I locked eyes with Alan as I remembered I wasn't supposed to let him gamble.
Oh, well, he's definitely done worse things than gambling on this trip.
"I'd be happy to win 80 dollars," I mumbled, shrugging my shoulders. That money was a lot to someone like me. Though looking at these guys' suits and jewelry, the sentiment wasn't the same for them.
Everyone seemingly ignored my pout as they continued to argue about the casino chips. "He put the chips in his purse, and then you guys took off with it."
"That doesn't sound like us." Really Phil? This comes from a guy who once helped me steal mannequins from a closed-down store to set up in Stu and Melissa's bedroom.
It doesn't help that I made a rumor that Melissa fucks mannequins in her spare time. The pictures I took made it even worse.
"Mine had $80,000 inside," The small man seethed, gripping the purse tightly in his hands, almost like he was trying to throttle it. "And this one? Nothing." He throws the bag to the floor, stomping on it for good measure.
"Hey, there are Skittles in there." Alan walks forward to grab his bag, only to be punched in the stomach. "Ow! Oh, not again." He cries out, falling back against the car.
Tearing myself away from Phil's grip, I moved between Alan and the tall Asian man. "Hey! Don't fucking touch him." I pushed the hotter lackey away as I leaned down to check on the older man.
"Don't let the beard fool you. He's a child." Stu shouted as he came to check up on Alan as well.
"It's funny because he's fat." The smallest man laughs, pointing at Alan, who is hunched over, crying and grabbing his stomach. I touched his back, rubbing it while glaring at the other men.
"Now, look, this was obviously a very simple misunderstanding. Alan picked up the wrong purse. It's no big deal." Stu shouted back at them; I've never seen him lose his cool this much.
I wonder how long it would take for him to lose it with Melissa?
"Okay, if it's, 'No big deal,' why when I come after you guys, he starts screaming like crazy and throw me in trunk?" The small mobster yells, pointing his ring-covered finger in Phil's direction.
"What, I did that?" Phil asks the gangster before looking at me as I shrug. We stole a fucking tiger from Mike Tyson; I think kidnapping a small Asian man sounds like something we could have done.
"Yeah, you said he was your lucky charm, and you want to take him home with you." The hot taller man says with his hands on his hips, but honestly, he sounded a little amused to me.
"Lucky charm." Phil let out a laugh looking at us. I gave a nervous laugh when everyone seemed to join in with Phil's jovial expression, "Oh, it's just funny."
The small gangster man laughs along before stopping as if he'd done a total 180 emotionally. "Fuck you. If you want to see your friend again, you get me my 80 grand."
My blood ran cold for a second. Had we totally underestimated this guy? His alluding to having Doug makes it seem like he was more dangerous than his stature had us believing.
The other gangster lackey banged his hand against the black truck they had crashed into us. A voice from the inside begins to scream, "Doug!" We all shouted and ran towards the vehicle.
I quickly lifted off my feet as the hotter gangster restrained Alan and me. "Get your hands off me, G.I Joe!" I yelled, fighting against his iron grip to get to the car. "Doug!".
Phil and Stu are thrown away from the car by the other goon with a pointed look. His expression alone shows he wouldn't be afraid to take the two of them out. "You chill out, goatee!".
We all stop fighting against the gangsters for a moment when Stu turns to the smaller man who hadn't moved a muscle, well, except for those in his face, which he's using to mock us. "What do you want?".
"Not so good now. Quid pro quo, douchebag," The short gangster said, scratching his cheek.
"Look, we're very sorry. But this is an easy fix," Phil interrupts when Stu looks like he's about to explode. He motions to Alan, who can't meet any of our eyes, "Alan, where's his purse?"
Alan shrugs his shoulder with a frown like a child being told off by his father, "I don't know."
I rolled my eyes, turning him to face me. "Could it be back in the hotel room?" asking as gently as I could, knowing he'd never be able to remember. He gave me a slight skittish nod.
"We can get you the... We can even write you a check right now." Stu said as I nodded quickly. We could always cancel the check after getting Doug back.
The small man shook his head, looking almost offended at Stu's offer "No chance," he rubbed his fingers together, "Cash only."
"There's a person in there." Stu hissed angrily, but the other man obviously didn't care as he waved us away.
"Boring. Take nap. Come on" He motioned for his men to get back into the truck, and we all looked at each other in worry. If these guys took Doug away, we have no idea what they'll do to him.
Thinking quick, I leap on the handsome goon's back as he spins, trying to get me off him. "Give us back our friend," I shouted, thrashing around, trying to get him in some sort of headlock.
"Wait. I'm sorry we're boring you! You kidnapped our friend! Kidnapper!" I heard Stu yell as I continued my (attempted) Catwoman-like fight, which I admit wasn't great.
Before any of my (once again attempted) wrestling moves could take effect, I was lifted off the tall man and almost thrown back into Alan, who caught me without ease, and we both tumbled to the ground.
WWE makes it look so much easier than it was.
"Doug, it's okay," Phil called through the blacked-out window before pushing on the car, trying to stop it though his actions were futile as the vehicle continued to move forward.
Stu grabbed onto the front of the car as Alan, and I looked at each other with the same 'should we help them' expression. "Stop. Run me over," Stu says as the car almost does just that.
"Okay. Whoa. Whoa. Stu, Stu, Stu" Phil pulled Stu away from the car just as it squealed to a stop where the two of them had been standing seconds before.
The black window rolled down slowly as the Asian man popped his head out. "Bring money to Big Rock in Mojave Desert at dawn." Phil spluttered in shock, turning to Stu.
"Toodle-oo, motherfucker." The tiny man sings, moving up with the window before he and the lackeys speed off, with Doug leaving us behind to panic.
"Fuck!"