Just one more sip of vodka… what harm could it do? It’s not like I’m driving anywhere today. I’ve basically locked myself in this truck with just my laptop, several bottles of the strongest booze I could afford, and a whole lot of ice cream. Gotta give myself credit -- retreating to a fully stocked ice cream truck to recover from a bad breakup may be the best idea I’ve ever had.
Daytime drinking really isn’t my thing. But does it count when you’ve been drinking for the last twelve hours straight? I mean, I did try to sleep for a bit there, but when all of my dreams were just images of Liam and me making love, I gave up on that. Who knows when I’ll be able to sleep next, so I might as well just drink my way into calm and comforting oblivion.
Jana doesn’t exactly see it like that. She’s been calling me nonstop since I texted her about it. Even now, I can hear my phone vibrating against the metal freezer, but I’m going to ignore it and just sink back this shot nice and easy. There’s nothing Jana can tell me at this point that could make me answer her phone calls, anyway. I’ve got to deal with this one on my own and in my own way. That’s how this works.
A sudden knock on the side of the truck surprises me so much that I almost fall out of my chair. My laptop falls to my feet along with the shot glass I was holding. I use my remote to lower the music blasting from my speaker. A woman’s deep, mournful voice fades into the background as I scream, “LEAVE ME THE FUCK ALONE, JANA! YOU KNOW I’M NOT GOING TO OPEN IT.”
There’s a pause as I go to turn the music back up, but before I can press the volume, I hear a man grumble. “Alana… it’s me. Open up so we can talk.” Liam? Is that his voice? What the holy hell is this? He made it clear that he had made his choice. Now he wants to come back? How the fuck did he even find me here?
I shake the cobwebs from my head and make my way to the back, not even thinking to open the window and check out the scene first. I just stretch out my arms to steady myself as the drinks catch up to my wobbling legs. “I’m coming… I’m coming…” I cry out, holding on to one of the shelving units. Outside, the voices seem to multiply and morph. I blame it on day drinking.
But when I pull open the doors, all I can do is scream as I fall backward again. My feet pick me up as I grab at anything and everything I can, throwing them at the two men and woman charging at me with their arms and their snickering smiles. I make it up to the driver’s seat, but there’s nothing I can do. There’s an arm on my leg and another on my shoulder as they both pull me over and keep me down at the same time.
With me constrained, a ribbon of gold hair falls towards my face, brushing up against my nose. I cry out, “Amy! What the…”
“Oh, I should have known you’d be a skinny little thing. Liam could never resist a little chicken-legged girl like you. And you couldn’t stay away from him either, could you?” She hovers over me with her arms crossed over her chest. “I warned you, Alana. You forced me to do this when you wouldn’t just stay the fuck away from my man.”
“We broke up! Liam broke up with me last night. I haven’t heard from him or talked to him all day. It’s true!” I desperately shout back as she stares at me blankly. The men surrounding her twist my shoulders down, so I hit my head hard against the tiled floor.
“It was a little too late. And plus, if I hadn’t made my way up the line in Steel Saints, I know you wouldn’t have given him up so easily. A guy like Liam is one you keep. And I plan on holding onto him as long as possible.”
Rage builds deep within me; coupled with the copious amounts of alcohol still coursing through my blood. I let myself shout back, “You think he’s going to be fucking okay with this, Amy? You think he’s ever going to love the person who kidnapped his last girlfriend, who bombed his gym? Are you insane?”
She squats slowly in her tight black dress, the fabric moving up her thick, pale legs. Lowering her voice to a snake-like whisper, she presses two lips close to my ear, “If you think I’m crazy now, you wacky little cunt, just wait until you see what I have in store for you back at the clubhouse. Oh, and don’t you think I forgot to do my research…”
Amy stands back up and looks at one of the guys -- the guy from the parking lot of Liam’s restaurant -- and orders him, “Go to St. Luke’s. Room 381. Her father is there. He’s too weak to fight back, so you shouldn’t have any problems. But I want you to go armed just in case he puts up a fight. We may need him if Liam and this little lovebird don’t cooperate with my orders.”
“Don’t you fucking dare, Amy! I swear to God, you fucking psycho! You won’t get away with this!”
She purses her lips as she pouts, “Oh, Alana. It looks as if I already have. No one knows where you are. Your savior has broken up with you. And there’s no one to help your poor daddy from my guys.” She turns her back and begins to walk away before shooting one last command to her boys, “Okay guys! Knock her out.”
“No! No! Please! No!” I cry, my hands managing to break from their grip. I sit up as I look the men in their beady black eyes, pleading with them to show me some kind of mercy. “I know you have your beef with Liam. I know you’re pissed at me, but please, don’t do this. It doesn’t have to be like this.”
“Liam isn’t our president anymore, and you’re not a member of Steel Saints either, lady. The only person that orders us around is her.” He points back to Amy as she stands in the doorway with her arms raised towards the light. She laughs loudly as she jumps down and walks quickly towards a motorcycle parked next to a black, unmarked van.
“Do it, man. Just do it.” One of the men practically begs the other. But he is just as hesitant.
I manage to shout out, “Whatever you do, don’t hurt my dad,” before I feel the first blow -- a metal serving bowl to the back of my head. There’s the warm rush of blood trickling down the nape of my neck and then another shock that vibrates through my ears and up to the top of my temples.
My eyes go back up into my head as I feel the rush of exhaustion take over me. My body is pins and needles, just like my leg when it has fallen asleep in an awkward position. I want to move my arms, to kick my legs, to defend myself some way. But I just can’t stop them.
Before I fall back into their arms, I have one second to think to myself, “So this is what dying feels like.” My vision fades to black. The sounds around me fade. And I am lost in the only safe space there is to be found.