Vivian

 

It takes forever, but I manage to push through my grief and anxiety and make a big plate of pancakes for the three of us to eat. They don’t look good–I’ve seen vomit more appetizing–but it’s all we have, and my stomach growls at the scent of food.

 

It makes me nervous that Branden and Alan decided to bring me here without having anything prepared. How long are they planning on keeping me here? Are they going to leave me alone, abandoned in the middle of the woods while they wait for my father to come through with the ransom?

 

There’s a clock on the wall but it’s covered with a layer of dust so thick I can barely see the hands. When Branden and Alan are distracted, I blow through some of the foggy yellow coating. Of course, the hands aren’t moving–the clock looks almost as old as the box of pancake mix. I feel like an idiot for even thinking to check.

 

When the food is done, I grab the plate and carefully shuffle towards the table. I’ve used the whole box of pancake mix and aside from a few burned pancakes, it wasn’t that difficult. The room feels almost cheerful by the time I’m done. The smell of food and heat from the woodstove are making me feel more relaxed than I have in hours.

 

“This looks fuckin’ disgusting,” Branden says with a sneer when I set the plate down on the table. “What the fuck were you thinkin’ girlie?”

 

I shrug. “It was all I had to work with,” I say. There are only two chairs, so I have to stand awkwardly on my bad foot and eat with one hand while I brace myself against the wall. We don’t have syrup or utensils but in a matter of seconds, the room is silent as Alan, Branden, and I cram rolled-up pancakes into our mouths. They taste both sour and stale, but I know that I need to eat in order to keep my strength up.

 

Alan grunts and drools all over his hands as he shoves the pancakes down his throat. Branden is a slower eater–he nibbles around the edge of his food before taking giant bites and working the pancakes around in his mouth like a wad of cud. It’s the most disgusting thing I’ve ever seen.

 

I try to be as invisible as I can, hoping that Alan and Branden will start talking shop once again and I’ll overhear an important detail. But as soon as we’re done eating, Branden stands up and wipes his hands on his jeans.

 

“Come on,” Branden says. “Get back in that other room.”

 

I limp ahead of him, wary of him kicking my feet out from under me. But I make it into the other room unscathed. After the warmth of the kitchen, it seems colder than ever, even with the fire still roaring in the fireplace. I shiver, leaning against the wall and rub my arms with my palms.

 

“Alan, get the rope,” Branden grunts. “We gotta tie up the princess again.”

 

“No,” I cry loudly, backing away. My bad ankle rolls painfully under me and I cry out as I fall across the floor, landing on the heels of my hands. Splinters lodge under the surface of my skin and I shriek in pain as my ankle starts throbbing worse than ever.

 

“You scared her,” Alan says. There’s a hint of amusement in his voice and suddenly, I hate him as much as I hate Branden.

 

“Please don’t tie me up,” I beg. “I’ll do anything!”

 

“Tell us about Laura,” Branden orders loudly. He crosses the room and stands above me, glaring down at my body like a sadistic prison guard who’s just beaten the newbie inmate. “Tell us about her and maybe I’ll let you stay free…for a while.”

 

My heart sinks. “I can’t,” I say slowly. “I told you. I don’t know anything about her. I’ve never even heard her name before!”

 

“Boss, maybe we oughta—“

 

“Shut up!” Branden screeches at Alan. He whirls around, glaring at me. His face is sweaty and red and his hair is sticking straight up in the air. With his wild eyes and that disgusting birthmark, he looks like a comic book villain. My heart starts to pound quickly in my chest and I’m afraid that he’s going to hurt me–really hurt me.

 

“I would tell you if I knew something,” I say, my voice trembling with fear. “I swear!”

 

Branden shakes his head. He spits on the floor in disgust like he can’t believe the situation he’s gotten himself into. It makes me want to laugh, honestly. Why is he acting like such a drama queen when I’m the one he kidnapped?

 

“I know you know,” Branden says. He leans close and his eyes are so wide that I can see how they fit into his skull.

 

“I really don’t,” I say, shaking my head.

 

“She’s tall,” Branden says slowly, as if he’s angry about the fact that he has to spell everything out for me. “With blonde hair. Blue eyes. Rail skinny. She used to be a junkie.”

 

I can’t help but laugh mirthlessly. The woman he’s describing could be anyone in Texas. Even a lot of the girls at my university look like they’ve shot up a time or two. I guess that’s what comes from living in one of the biggest areas for drugs.

 

“That sounds like half of the girls I know,” I say honestly. “What exactly do you want me to do here, Branden?”

 

“Tell me where she is!” Branden thunders loudly. He glares at me, like he’s angry that I’ve used his proper name.

 

“I don’t know,” I say, feeling truly helpless. It’s frightening to realize that no matter what I say to Branden, he’s still not going to believe me. If I don’t deliver, I’m going to be dead before Dad and Landon even have a snowball’s chance in hell to figure out where I am.

 

“She’s got a scar,” Alan adds. He steps closer, drawing a line down his cheek all the way from his forehead to his jawline. When he smirks, my stomach twists into knots. Suddenly, a face pops into my head.

 

“How old is she?” I ask, my heart pounding in my chest. “How do you know her?”

 

“You don’t get to ask questions!” Branden snaps.

 

But Alan looks at me with curiosity, like he’s seeing me for the first time. He turns to Branden with an odd look on his face.

 

“Boss, maybe we oughta tell her. Maybe it would help if she knew.” Alan smiles in a sinister way and I shudder at the way his yellow teeth glisten in the firelight. Between Alan and Branden, I’m starting to think my captors have never heard of dental hygiene before.

 

“Fine,” Branden grunts. He turns back to face me. “She was the old lady of one of my pals,” he says roughly. “She was a good girl. At least, that’s what I fuckin’ thought at the time.” Branden whistles and a fleck of white spittle flies across the room and lands on the front of my shirt.

 

“And what did she do?” I raise my eyebrows. “If she was just someone’s girlfriend, why the hell do you want to find her so badly?” I know that I’m pushing my luck, but I can’t help the curiosity. After all, if it was bad enough that they wanted to kidnap me, it must be something really awful.

 

Branden spits on the floor. “She fuckin’ double-crossed us,” he says. “She hooked up with my buddy, and they used to shoot dope together. Then, one night, she’s fuckin’ disappeared with our whole stash. The stash that our MC bought together. That’s over three million dollars’ worth of heroin,” he adds, baring his teeth like a dog. “And that cunt just up and left with all of it.”

 

My jaw drops. Somehow, I wasn’t expecting something that bad. These guys have such a hair trigger–I was almost expecting Branden to tell me that she’d kicked over his bike one day.

 

“Yeah,” Branden says, smirking and obviously pleased at my shocked reaction. “She’s a real bitch. And when my buddy tried to get in touch with her, he found out that she’d fuckin’ lied about everything. Even her goddamned name!”

 

“So her name isn’t really Laura?”

 

Branden shakes his head. “No,” he replies sourly. “But how the fuck else am I supposed to find her?”

 

I narrow my eyes. “Did you ever think about hiring a private investigator?”

 

“Girlie, you think I’m the kind of schmuck who can just walk into an office and hire someone? My money’s covered in blood, sugar,” Branden adds. His voice is dripping with sarcasm.

 

“You said she had a scar here,” I say, turning to Alan and gesturing at my cheek. “But what about tattoos? Anything on her upper arm?” My stomach is churning and I really don’t want to be right, but I have a very bad feeling.

 

“Yeah,” Alan says. “A butterfly, and a set of wings with some initials inside of them.”

 

My heart sinks even further. “And what about her chest?” I ask. “Did she have another scar, here?” I draw a line across my upper torso, starting at the collarbone and going across the side.

 

“Yeah,” Branden says loudly. He stares at me, nodding his head. “That’s fuckin’ her! I know that’s her!” He squints. “How the hell did you know that?”

 

Now I really feel miserable.

 

“Yeah,” Alan says. He hops up and down, making the whole house shake. “That’s fuckin’ great news, kid! How did you know that?”

 

“Because she’s the old lady of one of the guys in Blacktop Chaos,” I say slowly, still not wanting to betray my friend. “They’ve been together for years, but I just met her a few days ago.”

 

Alan leans in close. He’s grinning now, and I feel like I should be relieved for giving him what he wants. But instead, I feel sick inside. I’ve just betrayed one of the only friends I’ve ever made in my life, and if anything happens to her, it’ll all be my fault.

 

“What’s she goin’ by now?” Branden asks. “What’s her name?”

 

I swallow the lump that’s started to form in my throat.

 

“Her name is Robin.”

 

After that, thankfully, Branden and Alan leave me alone in the big room for a while as they go into the kitchen and start planning. I’m terrified that they’re going to go after Blade and Robin before I’ll get a chance to explain myself. Now that I’ve come out and said what they wanted to hear, I feel miserable. I should have lied, I think to myself as I lean against the wall.

 

I can’t believe I sold her out so quickly. Robin was the first woman I’d really talked to openly. She really understood me. And while I knew that she had a troubled past, I hadn’t ever expected anything so dark.

 

“Hey,” I call, pushing myself away from the wall and walking into the kitchen. “Look, about Laura—“

 

“Enough, girlie,” Branden says. He holds up a hand, making it clear that I’m interrupting their man talk. “Leave us alone, okay?” He sneers in my direction. “Unless you want me to tie you up again.”

 

A horrible idea forms in my brain. For a moment, I’m too scared to speak. But then I realize I have to do something. If I don’t create some kind of diversion, Branden and Alan are going to hurt my friend.

 

“Listen,” I say casually, leaning against the wall. “I was sort of hoping I could use the bathroom.” I draw my knees together, wincing as my ankle throbs in pain.

 

Branden laughs. “There’s a bucket over there,” he says, pointing towards the corner of the room. “You wanna go or what?”

 

“Actually, I was hoping for a little more privacy.” I knot my eyebrows together, trying to look serious and embarrassed.

 

“I’ve seen a pussy before,” Branden says with a smirk. “And despite the fact that you seem to be a hot little commodity, I’m not particularly interested in seeing yours.”

 

His crude words make me blush.

 

“No,” I say. “It’s just…well, it’s because I need more privacy than usual,” I say. My palms are sweating with anxiety and I wipe them hastily on my thighs.

 

Now it’s Branden’s turn to sneer. “And just why is that, princess? Feeling special?”

 

“I’m pregnant,” I say.

 

Branden’s jaw drops and his eyebrows shoot into the air. “Are you fuckin’ kidding me?”

 

“No,” I lie, shaking my head. “I wouldn’t lie about that. Please, just give me some privacy.”

 

Branden grins. “I ain’t gonna do that,” he says harshly, stepping close and grabbing a bundle of rope from the table. I squeak in protest as he moves closer, but with my injured ankle, I know I can’t outrun him.

 

“But I’m pregnant,” I cry, hoping the lie doesn’t sound too ludicrous. “You can’t hurt me!”

 

Branden smirks as he grabs my wrists and twists them painfully together. “Bitch, if you try to fight me, I’ll cut that baby out of you myself.”

 

And that’s when I know that my life is probably over.