“Courtney! Courtney!” she hears her name being hissed in a low voice. Her eyelids flutter open and light floods her pupils, much to the disapprovement of her pounding headache. The first thing she sees is the rough, brown ropes around her wrists. She was laying on her side, on a dusty gray floor, with her wrists tied to a tall wooden post. As she slowly attempted to sit up, the itchy rope rubbed her wrists like an Indian Burn.
Once she was sitting with her back to the post, Courtney looked to see where the voice came from. Duncan was staring intently at her from just three feet away, where he was handcuffed to a metal bar. The bar was one of the many metal bars that led up the concrete wall like a ladder. “Are you okay?” they both demand at the same time.
Courtney blushes and Duncan smirks at her. “You first,” he says.
“I’m fine. I think. Just a headache. What about you?”
“Just some bumps and bruises. I could handle two Racketeers,” Duncan replies. Courtney rolls her eyes in response. Even after being beat up, knocked out, and locked to a metal bar, he still managed to stay cocky.
“What’s a Racketeer?”
“Well, racketeering is a person who commits illegal crimes for business. For example, bootlegging and liquor smuggling. The Racketeers are the Log Cabin’s rival gang, basically,” Duncan explains, and two men walk out of a large metal door behind him. He notices them walking across the room, and Duncan immediately leans forward to hiss, “Don’t talk unless spoken to. Trust me. And do what they say, no questions asked.”
“Well, well, well, you sleepyheads finally woke up! Now who do we have here?” a man asks in a mock-concerned tone, facing Courtney. “What’s your name, bitch?”
Courtney was appalled at the man’s audacity towards women, automatically calling her a bitch. And, of course, she didn’t want to risk her mother and father’s safety by offering these criminals her last name. Apparently, she stalled too long to give her name, since the man with the black gelled-back hair slapped her across the cheek.
Her head whipped sideways, blurring her vision for a second as her eyes brimmed with tears from the stinging. She froze her head where it was, not letting the man have the satisfaction of eye contact. “Courtney Pembrooke,” she says fiercely, her voice dripping with ice. How she managed to keep her voice steady after being slapped, Duncan had no idea.
“Is your father Richard Pembrooke?”
After a moment in which she keeps them waiting, Courtney opens her mouth to reply, still glaring at the ground. Gelled-hair-man grabs her jaw in his palm, tugging her face in the direction of his. “Look at me when I’m talking to you,” he commands, fingernails digging into her skin. Her eyes flick to Duncan, whose expression says, Do what they say, no questions asked. Courtney receives another slap for looking at Duncan, but her head stays in place due to gelled-hair-man’s grip on her jaw. “Answer me!”
“Yes.”
“So you’re a rich little slut, aren’t you?” gelled-hair-man says, letting go of her and standing by his blonde partner. Both of them had a smirk on their faces, since somehow hearing Richard was her father amused them.
“What do you want with her, Jude?” Duncan suddenly demands from his place on the ground. Gelled-hair-man, now known as Jude, grabs Duncan’s shirt in his fist and tugs his face close to his. Duncan was unfazed.
“I want to kill her,” Jude growls in Duncan’s face. Courtney’s gasp was audibly loud, yet the three guys ignored her. The blonde gangster was watching his comrade intently, and Duncan and Jude seemed to be having a stare-down. Finally, Jude releases Duncan’s collar and stands up. “…But, unfortunately, I can’t do that. Jared here won’t oblige,” Jude grumbles, jerking his head towards the blonde, who steps forward.
“Mhmm. We can’t kill her because how else will we get the fucking ransom? Ever think of that?” Jared demands, flicking his blonde hair superiorly into place. Jude looks at the floor, cursing himself. “Yeah, that’s right. You didn’t think of that. And that’s why I’m the leader of our gang, not you.”
Once again, Courtney gasps.
“You’re going to try to get ransom from Daddy?”
“From Daddy?” Jared mocks. “That’s sweet. And, yes, once I’m done with your rich family, there won’t be one cent to pay for all your precious belongings. Trust me, sweetheart.” Jared playfully taps Courtney’s cheek with his fingertips. She just sits there, jaw clenched, his voice repeating over and over in her head: sweetheart… sweetheart… sweetheart.
Only Duncan called her sweetheart.
“You son of a bitch,” Courtney whispers, her voice filled with hatred. Jared raises an eyebrow, half amused.
“I really don’t think you’re in a position to be making the calls, gorgeous,” he warns her, flicking his wrist at a window overlooking the vast warehouse. Multiple gangsters begin climbing down the metal ladder Duncan was trapped too. They hop over him and roughly grab Courtney off the ground. Somebody slashes the ropes off her wrists, revealing her raw, red skin.
They drag her away, towards an open metal door, with her kicking and resisting all the way. Duncan glares up at Jared until Jared finally kicks him in the side. “Why the hell are you staring at me?”
“Why the hell are you torturing Courtney like this?” Duncan snaps.
“Ohhh… I see,” Jared coos, placing his hands together and putting them in a prayer position underneath his nose, right on his lips. “You love her, am I right? You’re just trying to act brave for your precious girlfriend?” he asks, turning his hands so his fingertips pointed at Duncan.
“We’re not dating,” Duncan murmurs.
“Aw, but you have a crush! How sweet!” Jared exclaims, hopping on the tips of his toes for a moment, like a gay would. He stopped bouncing and glared at Duncan, his gaze filled with hate, envy, and danger. Jared’s fists were tightly grasped at his sides, shaking with emotion. “Then I’ll be sure to crush your little girlfriend into the dust.”
With that, Jared followed after his accomplices into an all-concrete room, where they tied Courtney to a chair and dialed up her father on the phone. As Duncan’s own little torture, Jared left the door open a crack, so for an excruciating half hour, Duncan heard Courtney’s screaming and wailing.
Duncan collapsed on the hard floor, still handcuffed to the metal bar, and a sob escaped his throat.
Once she was sitting with her back to the post, Courtney looked to see where the voice came from. Duncan was staring intently at her from just three feet away, where he was handcuffed to a metal bar. The bar was one of the many metal bars that led up the concrete wall like a ladder. “Are you okay?” they both demand at the same time.
Courtney blushes and Duncan smirks at her. “You first,” he says.
“I’m fine. I think. Just a headache. What about you?”
“Just some bumps and bruises. I could handle two Racketeers,” Duncan replies. Courtney rolls her eyes in response. Even after being beat up, knocked out, and locked to a metal bar, he still managed to stay cocky.
“What’s a Racketeer?”
“Well, racketeering is a person who commits illegal crimes for business. For example, bootlegging and liquor smuggling. The Racketeers are the Log Cabin’s rival gang, basically,” Duncan explains, and two men walk out of a large metal door behind him. He notices them walking across the room, and Duncan immediately leans forward to hiss, “Don’t talk unless spoken to. Trust me. And do what they say, no questions asked.”
“Well, well, well, you sleepyheads finally woke up! Now who do we have here?” a man asks in a mock-concerned tone, facing Courtney. “What’s your name, bitch?”
Courtney was appalled at the man’s audacity towards women, automatically calling her a bitch. And, of course, she didn’t want to risk her mother and father’s safety by offering these criminals her last name. Apparently, she stalled too long to give her name, since the man with the black gelled-back hair slapped her across the cheek.
Her head whipped sideways, blurring her vision for a second as her eyes brimmed with tears from the stinging. She froze her head where it was, not letting the man have the satisfaction of eye contact. “Courtney Pembrooke,” she says fiercely, her voice dripping with ice. How she managed to keep her voice steady after being slapped, Duncan had no idea.
“Is your father Richard Pembrooke?”
After a moment in which she keeps them waiting, Courtney opens her mouth to reply, still glaring at the ground. Gelled-hair-man grabs her jaw in his palm, tugging her face in the direction of his. “Look at me when I’m talking to you,” he commands, fingernails digging into her skin. Her eyes flick to Duncan, whose expression says, Do what they say, no questions asked. Courtney receives another slap for looking at Duncan, but her head stays in place due to gelled-hair-man’s grip on her jaw. “Answer me!”
“Yes.”
“So you’re a rich little slut, aren’t you?” gelled-hair-man says, letting go of her and standing by his blonde partner. Both of them had a smirk on their faces, since somehow hearing Richard was her father amused them.
“What do you want with her, Jude?” Duncan suddenly demands from his place on the ground. Gelled-hair-man, now known as Jude, grabs Duncan’s shirt in his fist and tugs his face close to his. Duncan was unfazed.
“I want to kill her,” Jude growls in Duncan’s face. Courtney’s gasp was audibly loud, yet the three guys ignored her. The blonde gangster was watching his comrade intently, and Duncan and Jude seemed to be having a stare-down. Finally, Jude releases Duncan’s collar and stands up. “…But, unfortunately, I can’t do that. Jared here won’t oblige,” Jude grumbles, jerking his head towards the blonde, who steps forward.
“Mhmm. We can’t kill her because how else will we get the fucking ransom? Ever think of that?” Jared demands, flicking his blonde hair superiorly into place. Jude looks at the floor, cursing himself. “Yeah, that’s right. You didn’t think of that. And that’s why I’m the leader of our gang, not you.”
Once again, Courtney gasps.
“You’re going to try to get ransom from Daddy?”
“From Daddy?” Jared mocks. “That’s sweet. And, yes, once I’m done with your rich family, there won’t be one cent to pay for all your precious belongings. Trust me, sweetheart.” Jared playfully taps Courtney’s cheek with his fingertips. She just sits there, jaw clenched, his voice repeating over and over in her head: sweetheart… sweetheart… sweetheart.
Only Duncan called her sweetheart.
“You son of a bitch,” Courtney whispers, her voice filled with hatred. Jared raises an eyebrow, half amused.
“I really don’t think you’re in a position to be making the calls, gorgeous,” he warns her, flicking his wrist at a window overlooking the vast warehouse. Multiple gangsters begin climbing down the metal ladder Duncan was trapped too. They hop over him and roughly grab Courtney off the ground. Somebody slashes the ropes off her wrists, revealing her raw, red skin.
They drag her away, towards an open metal door, with her kicking and resisting all the way. Duncan glares up at Jared until Jared finally kicks him in the side. “Why the hell are you staring at me?”
“Why the hell are you torturing Courtney like this?” Duncan snaps.
“Ohhh… I see,” Jared coos, placing his hands together and putting them in a prayer position underneath his nose, right on his lips. “You love her, am I right? You’re just trying to act brave for your precious girlfriend?” he asks, turning his hands so his fingertips pointed at Duncan.
“We’re not dating,” Duncan murmurs.
“Aw, but you have a crush! How sweet!” Jared exclaims, hopping on the tips of his toes for a moment, like a gay would. He stopped bouncing and glared at Duncan, his gaze filled with hate, envy, and danger. Jared’s fists were tightly grasped at his sides, shaking with emotion. “Then I’ll be sure to crush your little girlfriend into the dust.”
With that, Jared followed after his accomplices into an all-concrete room, where they tied Courtney to a chair and dialed up her father on the phone. As Duncan’s own little torture, Jared left the door open a crack, so for an excruciating half hour, Duncan heard Courtney’s screaming and wailing.
Duncan collapsed on the hard floor, still handcuffed to the metal bar, and a sob escaped his throat.
