Chapter 30

Juliana

 

 

There was something hard under my ass when I started coming to. My wrists burned when I tried to move them, and my feet seemed anchored to something. Opening my eyes groggily, I realized that it was because I was tied to a dingy wooden chair.

A single, bare light bulb flickered overhead. Its low buzz was the only sound I could hear, other than my heart thundering in my ears. The room I was in was small and the air stale, like it had been closed for a long, long time. There was one window, but it was shut and grimy.

Dust particles floated in the yellowed lighting of the room, adding to my suspicion that wherever I was, no one had been in this room for a very long time. A thick layer of dust covered the scant furnishings, disturbed in only very few places.

There was a palm print on the wooden frame of a single bed and a couple of fingerprints on the shabby table that sat beside it. Other than that, there was no other furniture in the room, apart from the chair I was tied to in the corner.

The walls were painted with a shade that I thought could’ve been a light peach once upon a time, but it certainly wasn’t anymore. It was peeling in places, and a spider web sat in the corner against the ceiling. 

The only door in the room was directly across from me. It was closed, and there were no sounds coming from the other side. 

My mouth felt dry and full. It took me a moment to realize that it was because there was another rag stuffed in it. Thankfully, this one seemed clean, as my mind didn’t shut down almost immediately from whatever substance was on it.

I pushed at it with my tongue, opening my mouth to gag it out. I was alone in a room with bare furnishings, and my earlier thought of making it to a friend or acquaintance’s house occurred to me again.

If only anyone could hear me. My throat was still dry and scratchy, my mouth tasted like an army of mice had died in it, but I filled my lungs with the deepest breath I could manage and let out a bloodcurdling scream. “HELP ME!”

The door on the opposite side of the room slammed open, and Dreadlocks came sauntering in with an amused grin and vicious eyes. “Look who’s awake. You keep right on screaming; it won’t make any fucking difference. The nearest neighbors are miles away.”

His expression changed, his smile turning sinister as he watched me struggle against my restraints. A flash of fear ripped through me. The whole situation felt so surreal, and yet, it was real, and if that smile was anything to go by, it was going to get a lot worse.

“Why are you doing this to me?” I breathed. After my scream and the stark realization of my reality, my voice was nowhere to be found.

Dreadlocks leaned against the doorframe casually, not a care in the world. “Your boyfriend owes me a lot of money, honey. I’m done with asking nicely.”

My boyfriend?

Fucking Scott…I knew this had to have something to do with him. A seed of hope bloomed in my chest. I didn’t mean a thing to Scott; if I could clear up the misunderstanding, there was a tiny chance that he would let me go.

“He’s not my boyfriend anymore, I swear,” I protested, praying that he wasn’t so high that he missed the sincerity in my voice.

Apparently, he was. He shook his head and shot me an incredulous look. “You expect me to believe that? You wouldn’t be saying that just to get free, would you?”

“I’m not lying, I promise. I kicked him out weeks ago.”

“Yeah, right.”

“It’s the truth.” I begged him with my eyes to believe me, but his pupils were still pinpricks, and his gaze darted all over the room. “Look at me. I found out he was fucking my best friend behind my back. They’d been at it for who knows how long. I chucked him out along with all his stuff the morning I found out.”

He did as I asked and looked me straight in the eye, but just like the screaming, it didn’t matter. Shrugging, he squashed the seed of hope callously. “Even if that’s true, it doesn’t matter. Someone owes me a lot of money, and I’m sick of waiting for it.”

“Scott and Amber might owe you money; I don’t. Maybe I could talk to them for you? I could get them to pay up.” There was no chance that either of them had the money, not with the lifestyle they lived, and Dreadlocks clearly knew it.

“Time for talking is over. I want my money, and you’re not going anywhere until I get it,” he said, buffing his nails against a wrinkled black shirt that looked like he’d been wearing it for at least a week. From the smell emanating from him, it might even have been two.

My mind was racing. I didn’t owe him the money, but if I could somehow pay it anyway to secure my freedom, I would do it. “How much do they owe you?”

“Twenty-four thousand,” he said.

I gaped at him. How the hell had Scott gotten in that deep? “How?”

“Your boy toy, or former boy toy, whatever, he likes the good stuff. Promised he could move loads of it with his contacts here and in the towns around here. Problem is that he took it, but he never paid for it, so now you’re going to have to help him out a little.”

A little? “I don’t have the kind of money you want, but I’ll empty my savings if that will help. I’ll pay it off. Whatever it takes.”

“There’s no payment plan to be made here. Your boy has already reneged on the one we had. I’ve told you already; I’m done with waiting. You’re going to help me get my money back.” I didn’t like the look he was giving me one bit.

My eyes dropped to the filthy carpet beneath my feet. It was threadbare and probably used to be gray. Now it had more stains that clean spots, and it legitimately looked like someone had made a fire in the corner at some point.

I was frantically searching my mind for options, any plan that could get me out of this mess that Scott had made, but I was coming up empty. It wouldn’t take much to max out the only credit card I owned, my savings were looking pathetically sad after the renovations I’d done to the house, and I’d already taken up the full loan on my house.

If he was willing to give me some time to pay off the money, I could’ve made it work. Scott might not help me pay it off, but I was sure that I could convince Amber to pitch in. It was their fault I was in the situation, after all; Amber had betrayed me, but she wouldn’t have ditched me with this alone.

The problem with that plan was that Dreadlocks had already dismissed my paying the money back to him over time out of hand, but maybe it was worth taking one more shot.

“I have a job; if you give me the chance, I can pay you back over a couple of months.” More like years, but I’d figure it out. “I know Scott didn’t stick to his word, but I’m not like that. I’ll drain my savings straight away, and we can get the rest squared off over time.”

Dreadlocks smiled that chilling smile again. “Oh, I know all about your job, and it’s not your savings I’m interested in.”

I wouldn’t have thought it was possible, but the pit in my stomach grew by leaps and bounds and a lump formed in my throat as I choked out, “What do you mean?”

“I know that you work at a bank; Scotty has a big mouth on him.”

That he did, but I still couldn’t make out what that would have to do with me, or my job. In the back of my mind, a voice was screaming, but I shut it out. It couldn’t be that.

“Okay,” I said. “So I work at a bank; what does that have to do with anything?”

“Your savings might not cover your boy’s debt, but your savings aren’t the only savings you have access to. I did a little digging; your bank is quite popular in this shit hole of a town, which means that you have access to plenty of people’s savings. I’m sure the good, boring people of Stone Mountain have more than enough saved up to cover his debt.”

My heart sank, and my stomach dropped all the way to China. The voice was right, but I stubbornly refused to listen to it. “I can’t exactly walk in and drain the accounts of other people. What do you want from me?”

“The money,” he answered simply. “I put in a call to Scott earlier. He has 24 hours to pay me every last cent, but that was the last chance I’m giving him.”

The lump in my throat jumped and became painful. “And if he doesn’t?”

My voice was barely above a whisper, tears stinging the backs of my eyes. Dreadlocks shrugged again and smiled as if the answer was obvious. “If he doesn’t, you’re going to help me rob a bank. Your bank.”

No! I wasn’t a saint; I knew that. I jaywalked sometimes, and I was late paying traffic fines. I drove when I was above the legal limit occasionally, and once when I was 12, I accidentally stole a pack of gum, but I was not a bank robber.

“Help you rob a bank?” I repeated stupidly, the words grating at my ears.

Dreadlocks nodded, looking mildly amused at my reaction. The blood drained from my face, and my heart was throwing itself against my ribs. “Yes.”

I blinked, but he was still there. I pinched myself, but it wasn’t a dream. Bile rose at the back of my mouth. “I can’t do anything like that. Never. No. There has to be another way.”

“There isn’t. Scott pays up, or you and I are going to have a little fun.”

I started to protest again, but he crossed the room in three strides and shoved the rag back in my mouth. He opened the drawer of the table next to the bed and produced a roll of tape, bit off a piece, and slapped it over my mouth.

“Enough talking. Be a good girl and start thinking about a plan. Better make it a good one, I’d hate to see what happens if you don’t.”

With that and a last grin that threatened to reduce me to tears, he stepped over the threshold and shut the door behind him with a firm click.

Fuck.