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Nine Minutes (The Nine Minutes Trilogy Book 1) by Beth Flynn (6)


 

It didn’t take long for me to acquire a new name. I wasn’t addressed much by the gang anyway; when I was, it was usually Willow referring to me as “the ugly bitch.” That didn’t last long, though.

I had only been there a few days and was starting to know some of them by name. One afternoon, a few of us were sitting at one of the rundown picnic tables eating. Well, I wasn’t really eating. I had no appetite for obvious reasons. I was sitting on Grizz’s left, and Willow was on his right.

That’s how it had been the last couple days. I was always with Grizz. Never out of his sight except to use the bathroom. Willow couldn’t stand for me to always be with him and she made the most of every opportunity to be near him, too. She would’ve slept in his room on the floor if he’d let her.

So we were eating and Willow started to say, “So, ugly bitch, when you gonna—”

Grizz backhanded her so hard she would’ve flown backwards off the bench if Grunt, who was on her other side, hadn’t stuck his left arm out to catch her.

Grunt was the youngest of the group. He didn’t appear to say much and I couldn’t gauge his age, but he had to be only a little older than me. I always felt like he watched me, but when I would look at him he wasn’t looking at me.

Willow’s hand flew to her mouth. When she pulled it away, she was holding her left front tooth. Blood was running out of her nose and mouth. It wasn’t a casual slap. Grizz’s hand had been curled into a full fist, and the blow had been powerful enough to knock out that tooth and maybe even break her nose. If I thought Willow hated me before, then this only upped her level of animosity.

A couple of the others laughed. Moe just stared expressionless, but I thought I caught a hint of a smile before she lowered her head back to her plate.

Chicky, who was sitting across from Willow, said, “Gee, Grizz, you going all soft, sticking up for your ‘gift’? Since when do you care what Willow calls her?”

The instant she said it I could see regret in her eyes. But apparently Grizz didn’t react the way she thought he would, because after a few seconds she looked relieved. He finished chewing his food, and after swallowing it he casually said, “Just tired of hearing it.”

Willow was trying not to cry, but she was trembling. She shot up and quickly struggled to get herself untangled from the picnic bench. It was awkward because she was between Grizz and Grunt, and she had to step backwards to get out. Grunt started to help her, but proud person that she was, she just shooed him away without saying anything and stomped back toward the motel.

She must have sought out Froggy, who was not at the picnic table, because a few minutes later we heard a bike start and saw the two of them slowly ride past us and onto State Road 84.

This was the second time I’d seen Grizz abuse Willow. I’d already known she was sleeping with Grizz, or had been until my arrival. I hadn’t had to sleep with him yet, though. I don’t think anyone knew that. I still couldn’t come up with a reason why he hadn’t raped me. He certainly seemed like the type. Maybe he was waiting for me to get over my period. I didn’t know. He was obviously a cruel person incapable of feeling much, except for anger. But other than his seeming indifference to my situation, he had yet to lift a hand to hurt me.

I couldn’t tell if he cared what the others thought of how he treated me. It was probably new to them, seeing their leader stick up for a fifteen-year-old gang prisoner. I got the impression he let everyone fight their own battles. They could kill each other and he probably wouldn’t intervene or care.

I would see his brutality unleashed on many people over the coming years, regardless of their sex, age or physical ability. It didn’t matter. I wondered if getting beaten or having your tongue cut out was just run of the mill for his women. I would later see that he never abused anyone for the sake of abuse. He didn’t enjoy it. It didn’t please him to hurt people, but he never seemed to show any kind of remorse when he did. As far as he was concerned, they got what they asked for. They knew the consequences of defying him in even the slightest way. In all the years I spent with Grizz, only once did I ever hear a word of regret from him.

His stance was that he demanded obedience no matter what the issue. You didn’t obey, you paid. There were many instances during my time with Grizz when I would see a lot of folks pay in horrible ways for disobeying him or just doing something he didn’t like.

I would see someone pay that very night.

It was around sunset, so I assumed someone had lit the fire in the pit like they had the prior few nights. That’s what they called the area where I encountered them on my first night at the motel: The pit.

I was in Grizz’s room reading one of my library books. I had tried acting as casual as possible over the last few days. But the truth was, I was just staring at the page. My mind was in constant turmoil trying to think of a way to escape.

For the first time since my arrival, Grizz actually wanted me out of the room. There was something he needed to do. Maybe make a phone call? I didn’t know.

He strode over to the door, opened it and yelled, “Grunt. Come here.” He stood there with the door open until Grunt appeared. Grizz nodded toward me and said, “Take her to the pit. I’ll be a few minutes.”

I looked up, surprised. This was new. I shut my book and put my sandals on. I hated going barefoot. Which was kind of funny since I grew up with a mother who hated wearing shoes.

I remembered how cool the nights could get, so I asked, “Can I have a jacket or something?”

“Yeah. Grunt, give her your jacket.”

Grunt took his jacket off without saying a word and handed it to me. I put it on and followed him to the pit.

We sat side by side in two lawn chairs. Willow and Froggy were nowhere to be seen. I didn’t know Froggy’s motorcycle well enough to know if it was parked with the others. They may have never gotten back from that afternoon. Moe was sitting on the ground in front of the fire just like the first night I was there. A few others were sitting in lawn chairs with their legs stretched out. Everyone was drinking beer.

Grunt saw me looking at the others and asked if I wanted a beer. I told him no, but maybe I should have taken one. It would probably have relaxed me, but I hated beer and how it tasted.

Grunt went over to the cooler, got himself a beer and sat down next to me. I noticed he slapped at his arm. Mosquitos.

“Thanks for giving me your jacket,” I told him.

“Didn’t think I had much of a choice.” He didn’t say it in a mean way, just as a matter of fact. I started to take his jacket off and he immediately put his hand up and said, “No, you wear it. You better be wearing it when he comes out, okay? You can give it back to me tomorrow.”

“What, you think he’d hurt you if I gave you your jacket back?”

“You’re the one who asked for the jacket. Just wear it. He won’t be mad at me. He’ll be mad at you because you told him you were cold and he fixed it so you weren’t cold. So if he comes out here and you’re cold, he’ll probably be pissed.”

“Why would he even care about something so ridiculous?”

By now, the others around the pit had stopped their own conversations and were listening to our exchange.

Before Grunt could answer, a loud motorcycle interrupted our conversation. Monster. I wondered where he had been all day. Not that I really cared. People seemed to come and go here as they pleased. Everyone except me.

After Monster parked and cut the engine, conversation resumed. But I let the jacket question go. I was curious about certain things, but I also figured the less I knew, the better. I wanted my freedom. If I constantly asked questions and knew too much about this small group, maybe it could influence the decision as to whether or not to let me go.

Monster walked over to the pit and got a beer from the cooler before sitting down. He popped the top and took a big swig. Then, one-handed, he took a pack of cigarettes out of his jacket and lit one up. He downed the rest of his beer in less than thirty seconds, belched loudly, then stood. “Forgot, I got another present for Grizz. Well, for Grizz’s hounds actually.”

“You don’t got another chick hidden on your bike somewhere, do ya?” someone asked. There was a round of laughter.

He didn’t answer as he walked back over to where he had parked his bike. He had everyone’s curiosity, so all eyes followed him. He opened one of his saddlebags, reached in and pulled something out. It was hard to tell what it was since it was almost dark, but it was small, and he carried it with one hand.

He got back over to his lawn chair, and we still couldn’t tell what he had. He plopped down and with his cigarette dangling from his mouth, he held up the prize.

It was a tiny black kitten. A kitten? Would Grizz want a kitten? Then I remembered he said it was for Grizz’s hounds. Was he going to give the kitten over to the dogs to be mauled to death? Oh no. I didn’t think I could handle that.

Someone, I think it was Blue, said, “What the hell is Grizz gonna want with that?”

“I thought he might wanna feed it to his hell hounds,” Monster laughed. He still had it by the scruff of its neck and the poor little thing just hung there without making a sound.

“I’ll tell you right now, you’re wrong. Get rid of it before he comes out here,” Blue warned.

“Why would I wanna get rid of a perfectly good squawk box like this?” Monster asked.

“What do you mean by squawk box?” Grunt asked.

Without answering, before anyone could have stopped him if they’d wanted to, Monster took the lit cigarette and pressed it to the kitten’s side. It howled in pain and tried to wrestle free. He just laughed.

“See, squawk box! Hell, anyone wanna know if its eye will make a sizzle sound like when you fry bacon or something?” More laughter from him.

No one was joining in his laughter at this horrible display, but I was too upset to notice. I jumped up and started running to the room. Grunt was on my heels, but I fought him off.

“Just leave me alone! Leave me alone!” I was screaming at the top of my lungs. “You’re all sick. Something’s wrong with all of you if you think this is fun.”

Grunt was trying to stop me from reaching the room, and he was saying something I didn’t hear. I was too hysterical.

Just then, the door of Grizz’s room opened and he came out. “What the hell is going on out here?”

“What’s going on? I’ll tell you what’s going on. Your sick friend Monster is getting his kicks out of torturing a poor, helpless animal, that’s what. You’re all sick. I can’t believe this is happening. I can’t believe people get off on this kind of crap. I’ve gotta get outta here!”

By then, Grunt was behind me, using both hands to hold my arms at my side. I was waiting for the blow from Grizz. I’d seen him get mad for lesser things. This would surely warrant at least a slap in the face. But it didn’t come. He looked past me and Grunt toward the pit and said, “Take her in. Stay with her.”

“What, so you can go join the fun?” I taunted. “Is that what you’re gonna do? Big, tough guy, huh? Gonna terrorize a kitten. Gee, how brave!”

While I was yelling Grizz was moving toward the pit so I didn’t know how much he heard, thank God. Grunt kept telling me to shut up. Then with a strength I didn’t know he had, he picked me up and threw me over his shoulder. He took me in the room and shut the door before letting me down on my feet.

He’d knocked the wind out of me, and I bent over, gasping for air. He kept telling me to calm down while he led me to the couch. Then he flipped on the TV, turned up the volume and faced me.

“It’s not what you think,” Grunt said. “It’ll be okay. Try and take a breath.”

I couldn’t reply. For the first time since my abduction, I broke down and started to cry.

He started to sit next to me and put his arm around me, but jumped back as soon as he did it. Instead, he sat on the small coffee table and faced me, just watching me as I sobbed.

He went in the bathroom, brought back a cold washcloth and handed it to me. I put my face in it and cried harder.

I looked up when the door opened and Grizz walked in. He looked at me, then at Grunt.

“Leave.”

Grunt nodded and got up, walked past him and out the door. I looked down at my lap. I felt so defeated, and the hysterics had made me physically exhausted. I could tell Grizz was walking toward me. Before I could look up, he gently laid the kitten in my lap.

I was stunned. I looked up at him, and he must have read the question on my face.

“Blue told me what Monster did. What he was planning on doing.”

I didn’t know what to say.

“It’s gonna need some fixing up. You can keep it in here and take care of it, but you gotta keep it away from Lucifer and Damien. I don’t know what they’d do. I mean it, though. You figure out a way to take care of it. I find one pile of shit in here and I’ll have Grunt take it to the pound. Got it?”

I could only nod.

“You’ll never talk to me like that again. Got it, Kit?”

“Yes. Thank you.” I said in a whisper. “Did you yell at Monster? Did you let him know to stay away from it from now on? That it’s mine?”

“No, I didn’t yell at Monster, and no, he won’t bother it again.”

Three things happened that night. That was the night I got my new name. Kit. That was the night I saw a different side of Grizz. And that was the night the others around the campfire would come to disagree about what they witnessed.

Some said, “Yeah, an eyeball does make a sizzling sound like bacon frying.” Others said, “No, it don’t sound nothing like it.”

But they all agreed on one thing. It was hard to tell for sure what kind of sound they heard over Monster’s shrieks of pain.

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