COPYRIGHT © SARAH MARTIN 2015
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THIS BOOK OR ANY PORTION OF THIS BOOK THEREOF MAY NOT BE REPRODUCED OR USED IN ANY MANNER WHATSOEVER WITHOUT THE WRITTEN PERMISSION OF THE AUTHOR. ANY UNAUTHORIZED COPYING, BROADCASTING, MANIPULATION OR INFRINGEMENT OF THIS COPYRIGHT IS PUNISHABLE BY LAW.
Part Nine
Friday, February 12, 2010
I ran into the bathroom, which was right beside the basement. I closed the bathroom door part way, and peered through a crack to see Scarface turning the corner and heading up the staircase.
Only then did I realize that I had left the girls upstairs alone. I hoped they were getting themselves out of this hell.
Once I could no longer hear Scarface on the stairs, I came out of the bathroom and reached for the doorknob to the basement. Surprised by the man's idiocy, I marveled at the fact that he had left the basement door unlocked.
Fearful of what I might see, I tiptoed down the basement stairs, with a few creaks here and there.
I reached the bottom of the stairs, and flicked the light switch on, examining the room, trying not to pass out from fear.
I gasped when I saw Trace bound to a chair with his mouth taped.
When he saw me he wiggled in his chair, making muffled, desperate sounds. All I could make out was, "Mferfhiufgrrr!"
"Trace!" I exclaimed, happy that he was okay. I was afraid that Scarface would kill him without remorse. I had no idea what he was capable of.
I ran over to him, and he cried out when I frantically ripped the tape off his mouth, "Sorry!" I exclaimed.
In that moment, I was so overwhelmed with relief that I leaned forward and gave him a tight hug.
"Hi," he said, his mouth curving into a small, simple smile. Even in a situation like this one.
I stopped hugging him, putting my hand on his cheek, and stared into his eyes. "Hello." I was unable to contain my giant grin.
I then kissed him, stunning both of us. It was sweet, but brief, and probably the most memorable first kiss ever.
Even if the guy was constrained to a chair.
"Are you okay?" He asked me.
My ironic laugh was slightly maniacal. "You're asking me if I'm okay?" I said, looking down at him, trying to emphasize on the fact that he was tied to a chair and I was in fact, not.
"Yup," he grinned stupidly.
I took a deep breath, trying to relax. But I had a feeling that I wouldn't be calm for a long time. "I'm fine Trace. Are you okay?"
He smiled. "I am now."
I smiled back, then said, "Alright, lets get you out of here." I then began to unbind him. As I worked, I asked, "Where's Lilah? We have to get over to your house."
"She's not there," he said. "Just before I came over here she left for that party."
"Well, where are your parents then?"
"They're in Hawaii, remember?" He informed me.
My stomach fell. "Crap," I said. "I don't know how we're supposed to get out of here."
"Where's your cell?" He asked.
"It's broken...?" I guess he'd forgotten.
That's when I heard Scar face. "KATELYN, WHERE THE FUCK DID YOU GO?! GET YOUR ASS BACK HERE! YOU BETTER NOT BE WITH THAT LITTLE SHIT!"
I could hear him barreling down the stairs and I cringed, feeling the pounding in my chest.
And then he stood directly in front of us moments later, with the biggest scowl on his face. "I should have known you were going to try and help him," he said.
Then, like he did to Trace, he grabbed me by my hair, and started dragging me across the basement.
I let out the most ear-splitting scream.
All I could hear as we headed back, was Trace calling my name.
As he was dragging me back up the stairs, I squirmed, trying to get away. But because he still held onto my hair, it was just painful.
And then I tripped on the stairs and he freaked out.
Through clenched teeth, he ordered me to get up. He clutched my arm, screaming, "GET YOUR ASS UP!"
"I'm trying!" I barked. "Maybe it would be easier if you'd let go of my GODDAMN hair!"
He grinned, tightening his hold on me but letting go of my hair. "You're still as feisty as ever." I started to wonder: Now where have I heard that bef—And then it hit me.
It couldn't be.
I was completely stunned, and yet I managed to mutter, "Wha-" Before he cut me off.
"And all those times we talked, I'm surprised you never told me about that little dickhead down in the basement there," he gestured to the bottom of the stairs from where we now stood at the top.
I frowned, mentally slapping myself for having not realized it sooner. "I should have known it was you, Steve. And don't you dare call Trace a dickhead."
He ignored me and pulled me towards my bed room. He unlocked the door and I realized he must have forgotten to lock it when I ran after him and Trace. I didn't know what happened to my friends while I was with Trace. I didn't know if they had gotten away or not.
But as soon as we stepped into the room, I knew.
My three friends and my sister were lined up against the wall, hands and feet bound together with rope, that had seemed to come out of nowhere. Julia was still unconscious. When he chased after her earlier, she must have put up a major fight because it looked like Scarface had some defensive wounds. He had scratches on his arm, and a gash on his face.
He threw me down beside Mary, who looked like she had been slapped in the face a couple of times. He then pressed me up against the wall, appearing to have momentarily forgot about the other girls in the room. He pinned my arms back and ran his hand along my thigh. I inhaled and looked away, disgusted by the sight of his hand coming in contact with my body. "You're so beautiful."
I looked into his unusual coloured eyes and said, "Thank you. And you're hideous." I spat in his face, and he slapped me. Hard. The pain I felt in that moment was overwhelming.
"Don't ever talk to me like that again, you whore," he ordered, his face twisted into a repulsive sneer.
I don't know where my courage came from in the next second. I didn't beg for mercy or apologize. I simply said, "Suck dick." Someone gasped and called my name, but I heard it like I was on Venus and they were on Pluto. In other words, they were far away and their words were barely audible to me.
He reeled his hand back like he was going to hit me again. But he stopped and grabbed one of his ropes that he used to bind the other girls. I assumed it's what he had in the pizza boxes. He also had knives and a gun. Goosebumps ran up and down my spine at the thought of what he was planning on doing with it. Guns kill.
Who would be the one to die? I didn't know.
Not at the time.
He tied my hands behind my back, and secured my feet together, and then stood up. "I'll be back," he told us.
"Take your time," Sabrina said, glaring at him.
After he left the room and locked the door behind him, I sighed and put my head between my legs. "Oh God."
I looked up and Mary was staring at me. "Did you find Trace? Is he okay?" She asked.
"Yeah, I found him. He's down in the basement," I informed her.
"Oh," she replied.
I looked at Sam and she appeared to be conscious now. "Sam, are you okay?" I questioned, trying to be as concerned as possible.
She was crying. "No."
Would I really expect her to say yes?
"How's your hand?" I inquired.
"Not good," was the only response she gave me.
Shut up, Katie, just shut up.
"How is Julia?" I leaned over to look at my poor sister. Sabrina sat beside her and looked her over for me.
"She seems okay. He just knocked her unconscious," She informed me.
I sighed, relieved. Julia is okay.
If anything happened to her, it would be my fault.
"Did you guys call the cops?" I asked.
"How the fuck do you expect us to call the cops?" Sarbina barked at me.
I thought the answer was obvious. "Well, cell--"
Mary cut me off. "He took mine, remember? And Sam and Sabrina left there's downstairs. We looked to see if Julia had hers in her pocket, but it must be in her bedroom."
"What? Are you serious? You couldn't have told me they were down there before I went downstairs!?" I said.
"Well, sorry," Sam defended. "We didn't know you were gonna go chasing after them."
"Well, didn't you try to get out from the balcony to call the cops from a neighbours house?" I questioned.
"We did," Sabrina said. Clearly they were unsuccessful... "But as you know, Mary is scared of heights and Sam and Julia were still out of it. I wasn't going to go and leave everyone," she explained.
"Well, at least you could have saved yourself."
All was silent, until Mary mumbled, "None of us are thinking clearly." Like that justified our failing to get ourselves out of there.
No one replied.
Sam had started to control her tears, and she asked us, "Who is this guy? And what does he want?"
I answered, "Steve."
"STEVE?! You mean the internet guy you've been talking to for weeks?!" Mary exclaimed.
I nodded, ashamed. "Yeah, him."
Sam and Sabrina were confused. "What are you talking about...?" Sam questioned.
"Katie met some guy online a couple weeks ago. I thought it was suspicious, but she obviously wasn't thinking," Mary explained.
"Well, what the hell is wrong with you, Katie?! None of this would have happened if you had just ignored him!" Sabrina roared.
"Hey! Don't blame this on me!" I defended, even though I knew it was true.
All of this was my fault, and I would pay for it.
Mary said, thinking logically, "Sabrina, put a sock in it. It won't do us any good if we start turning on each other."
"Shut your fucking mouth, Mary," Sabrina ordered.
All of us could agree that Sabrina wasn't acting like herself because of the situation.
I sighed. "I don't know what he wants."
But then we heard the door being unlocked and then Steve sauntered into the room, like he had something to be proud of. Please God, let Trace be okay.
He walked forward, and stood before us. Julia started coughing, and opened her eyes.
"Hey, you're awake," Steve said.
Julia groaned. "No thanks to you."
"Look at it this way Julia, the fight between us could have been much worse, and you may never have woken up."
Her eyes widened, then she frowned. "Go to hell."
He ignored her, and then he began.
"So, here's the deal--"
Sabrina cut him off. "You're a pathetic bastard who likes to take teenage girls hostage for kicks?" When the hell did she get balls?
He glared at her, "Don't push me, bitch."
She replied, a smirk on her face, "Or what?" Shit, she did not just go there.
He bent down and got right in her face. She tried to look brave, but her terror was obvious. "Would you like me to show you, sweetheart?" Finally she shut her mouth, and just shook her head. "That's what I thought." Standing up again, towering over us, he began again, "Each of you will call your parents--"
This time, it was Mary who cut him off. "Doesn't that kind of defeat the purpose of all this?"
"SHUT UP!" He shouted. "God, you girls just can't stop talking, can you?"
Julia said, "If you don't want us to talk then don't talk to us."
He rolled his eyes. "AS I WAS SAYING... I will have the four of you phone your parents. I realize that there is five of you, but Julia and Kathy are sisters so I think Kathy will do the honour of phoning for both of them."
Sam asked, "And say what? 'Help us. He's going to kill us'?"
"You will tell them that you are being held for ransom," he answered.
My eyes bulged out of my eye sockets as I exclaimed, "RANSOM?!"
"Ransom," he repeated. "You tell them that if they do what they are asked, no one will get hurt."
"Well, isn't that original?" Sabrina said sarcastically, rolling her eyes.
He continued, annoyed by all the interruptions, "And that they will wait for further instructions. And to prove that they understand," he paused. "They will receive a present." He grinned.
All five of us flinched in fear.
Julia asked, scared for an answer, "A p-p-present?" She was shaking, and I wish I could have been there beside her to comfort her.
I raised my eyebrows, "What kind of present?"
He smirked, like he got the satisfaction of knowing something that we didn't. "You'll find out soon enough. Let's just say that clothes won't be necessary."
My jaw dropped. Did he just say what I think he said?
He laughed at our reactions--fucking laughed.
"You're kidding, right?" Sabrina questioned, in disbelief.
Julia piped in, "Did you mean, clothes won't be necessary for us?"
Steve winked, and said, "If that's the way you want it."
"You're sick," I sneered, horrified that he would dare talk to my sister that way. "If you think we're taking our clothes off for you, you're demented."
Then, he got alarmingly angry.
He reached over to one of the pizza boxes on the bed and grabbed a knife.
He was in front of Julia so fast, that for a moment, I was utterly confused and baffled. He held the knife in one hand, grabbing Julia's bundled arms and grasped one of her fingers.
Both her eyes and mine were as big as golf balls. I shouted, "What are you doing?!"
"You want demented?" He grinned. "I'll show you demented."
He held the knife to her index finger. All I heard were Julia's screams for him to stop as he cut into her flesh. "NO! NO! NO!" Sam was chanting. Sabrina was looking away. For a tough girl, she couldn't stand the sight of blood. Mary just watched, on the verge of a panic attack.
Tears streaming down my face, I cried, "STOP IT! STOP! We'll do anything you want! PLEASE!" As all this was going on, he just smiled.
I think Julia may have been about to pass out from the shock. She no longer cried for him to stop, and her head flopped back, like she was high and relishing the feeling. A stream of blood oozed out of the wound, trickled down her arm and dribbled onto my hardwood floor.
My tears fell uncontrollably, so much that it was almost becoming difficult to see. I closed my eyes, and all was silent for a moment, as everyone began to believe he wasn't going to stop. "Please, God, please," I begged.
I opened my eyes, and Steve was no longer by Julia, but sitting directly in front of me, staring at me. "Do you think you will do what you are told now, Katie-bear?" He asked me, kindly.
I nodded, then stared up at the ceiling and watched in wonder as the world began to spin.