Crash & Carnage by Emma Slate

Chapter 27

My body lurched,jostling me awake. I cracked open an eye to darkness. I blinked a few times, trying to clear my vision. Scratchy fabric covered my eyes, and the smell of heavy-duty tape filtered through my nose. I lifted my hands to remove the cloth shielding my gaze—only to find that I couldn’t use my arms because they were bound behind my back.

I struggled to hoist myself up, the plastic ties digging into my wrists. My skin burned with pain. Panic swirled inside me like a tornado.

I couldn’t see. I could barely breathe. And I had no control over my own body. My jaw throbbed from where I’d taken an elbow to the chin and my belly cramped from being punched.

Who had kidnapped me? Why?

Did it matter?

No.

I listened. It was quiet, except for the sound of rubber on asphalt. After a moment, I heard the crinkling of foil and the audible munch of food.

“Dude,” a man barked. “Can you not treat my car like a dumping ground? Fuck.”

“Where the fuck do you want me to put it? Not like there’s a trash can around here,” a second man said.

“I don’t know. Stuff it in the door or something.”

A man sighed and then I heard the crumpling of a bag. “How much fucking longer?”

“What are you? A six-year-old asking if we’re there yet?”

“I gotta piss. Pull over,” the passenger whined.

The driver cursed. “An hour ago, you needed a soda.”

“Yeah, well, we needed gas.”

Neither of them seemed to have noticed that I was awake and was moving around in the backseat.

I felt the tilt of the vehicle to one side and the crunch of gravel under the tires. Before he’d even parked, I heard a door being flung open. The car dinged incessantly, signaling a door that remained ajar.

“Oh, hello, sweetheart.”

My head swiveled in the direction of the voice.

The blindfold suddenly came off, gifting me with sight. It was dark outside, but the interior of the car was flooded with light due to the open door.

“Cletus,” the driver called out to his companion. “She’s awake.”

“Great, what do you want me to do about it?” Cletus replied, zipping up his trousers.

“We’ve been on the road for hours. I’m sure the bitch has to piss.”

“So? Fuck her.”

“So, I don’t want her pissing herself in the car. I’ll never be able to get the smell out of the upholstery.”

The back door opened, and before I could react, a hand grasped my upper arm. I instantly recoiled in distress and slipped out of his grip.

“We don’t have time for this,” Cletus growled, clasping me tighter and hauling me out of the car like I was a stuffed animal.

His fingernails clawed into my skin, and I hissed through my nose in pain.

“Easy,” the driver snapped. “He’ll be pissed if she shows up damaged.”

Cletus sniggered. “Maybe you shouldn’t have elbowed her in the jaw, fucktard.”

Or punched me in the stomach.

Cletus propped me up and let me go. My legs were wobbly, and I stumbled briefly, but with my sight returned, I managed to catch myself before falling onto the asphalt.

Cletus pulled a pocketknife from his pants and quickly released me from my binds. “Go.” He gestured to the side of the road. He leaned against the vehicle and crossed his arms over his chest, smirking. “We don’t have all night, darlin’. Time’s a wastin’.”

I shuddered at his use of darlin’, which only reminded me of Boxer. I held back a whimper. Breaking down while I was in the middle of some remote highway in the middle of nowhere without any clue about how far I was from civilization wouldn’t help things. Maybe that was why they hadn’t zip-tied my ankles: they knew I couldn’t run away. Where would I run to?

My mouth was as dry as sawdust, the smell of duct tape in my nose.

Cletus sneered. “Bitch, lose the pants. You either piss here and now or get back in that car and I’ll let you piss yourself and I don’t give a fuck what Paul says about it.”

I was about to burst and had no time for modesty. Whirling, I gave Cletus my back and fumbled with the button of my jeans and pulled them down. I couldn’t hold in the moan of relief when I finally emptied my bladder.

“Paul,” Cletus shouted to his friend. “You hear that moan? I bet this one is a screamer.”

“Shut up,” Paul snapped. “Get her back in the car, and let’s get going. Someone’s going to come by. Hurry the fuck up.”

I stood upright again and after pulling up my pants, I hastily buttoned them, wanting to cover myself as quickly as possible. Cletus came for me and quickly zip-tied my wrists in front of my body. He then wrapped a hand around my arm and shoved me toward the blue Honda.

Because I wasn’t completely in charge of my faculties, I crashed against the side of the vehicle.

“Easy,” Paul stated. “You want to incur Dante’s wrath?”

“I’m not afraid of Dante,” Cletus blustered, but his grip on me lessened.

I wriggled into the backseat and Cletus shut the door.

Paul turned around again, reached over, and slowly removed the duct tape from my skin, and then he offered me a bottle of water.

I stared at it for a moment, wondering why he was giving it to me, and why they hadn’t bothered to blindfold me again. His offer wasn’t about caring if I was comfortable or not. It was because of the faceless Dante.

In that moment, I was terrified of a man I’d never met.

I took the water but didn’t drink right away.

Paul noticed my hesitation. “It’s not drugged.”

“How do I know?” I asked, my voice raspy.

He shrugged. “You don’t. Guess you’ll just have to trust me.”

My throat was parched, and I wanted to remove the sour taste of fear from my mouth. I unscrewed the bottle and drank. When I’d had my fill, I screwed on the cap and leaned my head back against the seat.

Cletus got into the car, buckled himself in, and we zoomed off into the night.

My mind was in overdrive. Terror of the unknown blasted through me like a wrecking ball. I was at the mercy of two men.

A phone vibrated somewhere in the front seat. Paul reached into his pocket and extracted his cell and put it to his ear. “Hello? Yeah. We’re about five hours away.” He looked at me in the rearview window. “Yeah, she’s awake. No, no one saw us. We took her blindfold off to let her piss. We can put it back on if—Okay, sure. I gave her some water, and I’m making sure Cletus keeps his hands to himself.”

Cletus made a noise in the back of his throat and shot Paul a glare.

“Right. See you in a few hours.” Paul hung up and set his phone down in the center console.

“What the hell, man! You’re going to get me in trouble with the boss.”

“Cool it,” Paul commanded. “And no more blindfolding her.”

Cletus grumbled but then settled down. We drove for another few minutes before I heard a snore and knew Cletus had fallen asleep.

Goosebumps prickled along my arms as cold air circulated through the car. With each mile that Paul drove, my fear escalated, building slowly like the pressure beneath a volcano about to erupt.

His eyes met mine in the rearview mirror, lingering for a moment before looking back to the road.

“I have money,” I pleaded. “Lots of money. Just let me go and I’ll—”

He turned up the staticky music on the radio to drown out my voice. Cletus didn’t stir.

Leaning my head against the window, I waited for dawn.

* * *

The sun was just starting to rise when we neared the Mexican border. As we sat in line to pass through the checkpoint, I noticed guards everywhere, standing at the ready, armed with machine guns and dressed in light tan and brown camouflage. Sniffer dogs were moved from car to car in the inbound United States side by large, mean-looking men. Suspect vehicles were being X-rayed by special machines off to the side after being separated.

We pulled to a stop, and I opened my mouth to scream, but before I could get out a sound, Cletus whirled in his seat and chopped me in the throat. I choked up immediately. My breath caught in my lungs, and my eyes brimmed with tears.

Paul rolled down the driver’s side window. A guard wearing sunglasses left his booth and approached us. He looked more like a soldier and was built like a tank. He leaned down and peered into the car, and I knew it was all going to be over soon. He’d see me bound, fighting for air, tears in my eyes. He’d sound an alarm, and before I knew it, I’d be back home with Boxer, safe in his arms.

My eyes widened in supplication at him as I struggled to regain my breath, but all he did was smile at me. He held out his palm. Paul passed over two passports and the guard gave them a cursory glance before handing them back. He took a few steps away from the vehicle and waved us through the checkpoint.

The guys began to laugh.

Cletus looked at me, a sinister smirk across his face. “What? Did you think this was our first time doing this? These men are Alejandro Garcia’s men—”

“Shut the fuck up,” Paul snapped. “Jesus, you’re a goddamn moron.”

Cletus closed his mouth and stared out the window.

I had no idea who Alejandro Garcia was, but I could guess. It took a very powerful man to own guards at a federal checkpoint between two nations.

This was cartel business.

And I was in the middle of it.