Natasha ~ Present
WE’D BEEN DRIVING FOR A few hours, me sitting as far away from Jericho’s mother as possible on the bench seat. I was practically hugging the door. I’d thought about trying to jump out and make a run for it, but didn’t want to chance hurting the baby.
I was tired, and kept forcing myself awake each time I started nodding off.
“I need to go to the bathroom,” I said, thinking we could pull over at the next gas station and I could tell the person working there I was being held against my will.
The more the idea took share, the more hopeful I became.
“No,” she stated, her eyes on the road, an unlit cigarette dangling out of her mouth.
We’d gotten into it when we’d started out and she’d tried to light up in the car. I didn’t think she’d listen to my pleas about no smoking for the baby’s health, but she’d rolled her eyes and left it unlit.
“Please,” I asked. “You’ve been pregnant, so you know how much you need to use the bathroom. It’s been hours and I’ve been holding it for the last thirty miles.”
“You think I’m dumb or something, Oklahoma?” She sneered. “First off, that baby ain’t no bigger than a pea right now, so no way it’s sitting on your bladder or nothing like if you were further along. Second, you’re thinking of calling for help the second I stop, and then I lose my chance to trade you to Jericho for the money I need.”
“I don’t know why you keep insisting on calling me Oklahoma. I’m not from, nor have I ever been to Oklahoma. I’ve also never been in a pageant, so you’re wrong about that, too. My name is Natasha, I’m engaged to your son and carrying his baby, and he’s not going to be too happy with you for doing all of this. Now, the least you can do after kidnapping me from my own home, is let me go to the bathroom.”
I was tired, hungry and beyond irritated, and dammit, I really did have to pee.
“Guess you got a little sass after all. That’s good. Ric needs a little sass, else he’d be walking all over you, like men do. Still, I’m calling bullshit . . . So, if you really have to go, I’ll pull over right here and you can go on the side of the road. Then, I can grab a smoke and we’ll be on our way.”
“You want me to pee on the side of the road? There’s no coverage,” I argued.
“It’s dark, no one will see anything.”
“Fine,” I said, deflated that my plan hadn’t worked. It looked like I needed to wait until we were in the city to try and find someone to help me.
She pulled over and we both hopped out. She waved the gun at me, as if to warn me not to run, then lit her cigarette.
I scowled and tried to find the place where I’d be most hidden from people passing by and lifted my nightgown.
“Don’t get any on your feet now,” Jericho’s mom called with a cackle.
God, I hate her.
Once my bladder was relieved, I walked back to the car and got into the passenger side, not wanting to be around her or her smoke.
I wondered what Jericho was doing. Did he come home yet and find the house empty? Does he think I left him again without so much as a word?
I worried my bottom lip as I thought about how upset he would be.
Plus, with Mick in Philly looking for his mom, he’d never expect her to have been the one who took me from our house. I hated to think what he must be going through.
“Let’s get this show on the road,” Jericho’s mom said as she slammed her way into the car.
Unable to stand being in her presence another second, I crawled over the seat and got into the back, laying across the long seat and closing my eyes.
“C’mon, Ms. Oklahoma, time to get up.”
That scratchy voice pulled me from seat and I sat up, blinking my eyes open, then shut when the sunlight stung them. I waited a few seconds, then opened them slowly, to give them time to adjust.
We were parked on the street, alongside a dilapidated old apartment building, and it was early enough that the only people on the streets were the ones who were just now coming home, either from work or partying.
And although I wanted to scream for help, it looked like the kind of place where screams wouldn’t garner much attention.
“C’mon, you’re gonna walk in front of me, and I’ll tell you where to go. And, I gotta say, Oklahoma, even if someone sees the gun, they aren’t gonna do shit, so don’t go getting any wild ideas. The last thing you want to do is be running around these streets in nothing but your nightie, without me there to protect ya.”
Looking around, I believed her, so I walked and went where she told me to.
“Up the stairs . . . down the hall . . . to the left . . . that one, number twelve.”
She knocked on the door with the tip of her gun, then we waited. A few seconds later, there was a crash, bang, and a round of swearing. Then, the door opened to reveal an older man, with a gray beard, tired eyes, and a scowling face. He was wearing well-worn jeans that had been pulled on, but not fastened.
“The fuck you doin’ here?” he asked Jericho’s mom.
“Need to stash somethin’ here for a little while so I can go see my parole officer.”
“What?” he asked, scratching his butt.
“Her,” she replied, and I squeaked.
What the hell? She’s going to leave me here with some strange old biker dude?
“No, that’s okay,” I said. “I’ll just come with you.”
As much as I hated her, I felt better with the devil I knew, than the devil I didn’t.
She scoffed.
“Yeah, like I can show up with you. You’d go blabbing that I left town and took you against your will for money.” She turned her attention to the man and promised, “My son will give us the money we need in exchange for the beauty queen here. Alls I gotta do is go smooth things over with my PO, show him I’m here and doin’ fine, and then we can get this settled and get the fuck outta dodge. I just need you to watch her for a little while. Hour, tops.”
Biker dude looked at her, then at me, his gaze going down to my bare feet, then up my legs, over my nightgown, until it settled on my face.
He nodded, and I shuddered.