But also—I have to admit this.
There’s also the desire for that Dom to come here, right now, guns blazing, ready to unleash his beast and save us.
Patty is a pale, ghostly looking man, with the crimson cheeks of an alcoholic. When we were taken from the back of the van and brought into this warehouse, he sprung forward like an excited child, nonchalantly waving a foot long machete at Poppet.
“If that bitch tries anything, I’m going to cut her fucking tail off and stick it down her throat,” he said gleefully, and then waved it at Mom and me. “As for you two, I doubt you’ve got tails. But I’ll find something to do the job.”
Anger pricks at me as I feel Mom’s gaze on me. I just want her to leave me alone to my thoughts, so I can think of a way to get us out of here, a way to forgive Dom, a way to tell Dad, a way to keep Poppet alive—there are more important problems right now, basically, than Mom wanting me to tell her it’s all okay.
“Dallas,” she murmurs.
“I know, Mom,” I snap, turning to her quickly. “You didn’t mean it. You had no choice. It’s not your fault. What else were you supposed to do? I get it, Mom. Every time something bad happens, you’re always in there right away with your laundry list of excuses. So fine. It’s okay. I forgive you. Are you happy now?”
She blinks but doesn’t fly into her own rage like I expect her to.
“No,” she whispers. “I wanted to tell you that I’m sorry, okay? Just … I’m sorry. That’s all.”
Guilt jabs at me and I reach across, taking her hand in mine.
“I love you, Mom,” I whisper. “I didn’t mean to yell. I’m just scared.”
“Me too,” she says, squeezing my hand in support. “Do you think that horrid man has called your father yet? Do you think that’s why he came in here with the phone so that he could prove he had us?”
I nod. “Yes, probably. But I hope Dad and Dom stay away.”
“And leave us to die?”
I swallow, acid tension swirling through me.
“It’s better than all of us dying,” I murmur. “He won’t let them bring guns. Were you paying attention when they led us back here? I counted at least twenty men, and half of them had guns, not pistols, but big guns, they’re more dangerous. And then there’s Patty and his machete, and I saw a gun on his hip. I don’t think even Dad and Dom would be able to do anything against all of that.”
Mom shivers and bites her bottom lip.
I watch Poppet pacing up and down.
And wonder how my life got so crazy so quickly.
About an hour later – though time is difficult to track in a windowless cell – one of the guards pokes his gun into the room, staring at us with a blank expression. All of Patty’s men have dead-eyed stares, as though they’d mindlessly follow any order he gave them.
“Boss wants you both outside. Come on.”
“What about her?” I whisper, keeping my voice quiet because Poppet had finally settled down, but now her tail is going and a growl is bubbling at the back of her throat.
“The dog stays here,” he says.
“But—”
“It can stay here with a bullet in its head or without one. Your choice.”
I tickle her softly behind the ear. “Be a good, girl,” I whisper. “Be calm. Everything’s going to be okay.”
I feel my heart shattering as they slam the door behind us and I hear her whines, and then her high-pitched barks, as though she thinks I’ve made a simple mistake by leaving her behind and any moment I’ll return and collect her.
Mom seethes silently beside me, casting me sour looks every few seconds. I almost laugh like a deranged person when I realize she looks exactly how she does in a restaurant before summoning the courage to complain about poor service. I imagine her giving Patty a talking down, wagging her finger in his face.
This is absolutely unacceptable.
“What’s so funny?” the guard grunts.
“I was just thinking about your micro-penis, actually,” I snap, the words coming out before my brain can stop them.
The man stops and I feel the cold metal of a gun at the back of my neck. I stop, everything freezing inside of me. A voice screams at me that I’m an idiot, why couldn’t I just shut my idiot mouth.
“Maybe when this is over the boss’ll let me show you,” he says, giving me a metallic nudge that has my soul quivering. “In the meantime, keep your cunt mouth shut.”
The guard takes us into the greater warehouse, a large cavern of a room pockmarked with shadows and then sections of light where the sunlight shafts through the tattered, ruined roof and walls. Patty stands in the center of light, next to four giant plastic vats.
“No, no, no,” Mom starts to whine, stopping and shaking her head vehemently. “We’re not going in them. No.”
“Relax, relax,” Patty grins, swaggering over with his machete, swinging it like a cane. “Come and take a seat. There’s no need to stress. You look a bit worn out for my tastes, grandma, but I’m sure my men can make good use of you. Or how about you just come’n sit down and stop acting like a crazy bitch?”
We don’t have any choice, of course, and soon we’re sitting on hard wooden chairs with our hands tied behind our backs with zip-ties cutting into our wrists. Poppet’s barking has gotten louder now, but luckily the room is large and it doesn’t seem to register with Patty.
The idea of him striding back there with that machete …
My bones shiver.
I didn’t even know that was fucking possible.
“What are we waiting for?” Mom breathes.
“Your ex-husband and his killer boss, of course,” Patty grins. He glances at me. “Did you get that video I sent you, Dallas?
