Goldilocks Forever

Chapter 11

Las Vegas, Nevada

February 2006

Despite the new hope on which her thoughts buoyed, Pilar and Maria noticed no difference in her. An influx of cake orders kept them all busy. Anna worked overtime rolling fondant and piping delicate designs onto tiered cakes. She'd been waiting for this opportunity to show off her skills ever since Pilar hired her.

Anna hummed and thought about paying Toby a visit. What would he say if she just showed up on his doorstep? Too desperate she told herself and then focused on buttercream roses. Pilar offered to pay her overtime if she rushed an order to complete a quinceanera cake, so Anna worked a double shift. When the final rosette had been laid and the cake carefully tucked into the freezer for the evening, she walked out of the bakery and was surprised to see the street lights in the darkness of twilight.

Her hand went to the gun at her back. The headlights of passing cars made her feel vulnerable. She scanned the street and sidewalk around her. A young couple walked by, hand in hand, and a woman dressed in a casino uniform sat alone at a bus stop. 

She walked faster, anxious to get home and into bed so she could pull the covers up over her face. There was nothing else she wanted to think about at the moment. Tomorrow she had the day off and could figure things out then.

There had to be a way. If she hadn't hurt anyone, hadn't done those horrible things that haunted her, maybe it would be possible to go home. Was her shame based on her nightmares or actual reality? She didn't know. Maybe the medication Toby promised would lift the fog of mental snapshots that ran constantly through her mind.

Tires squealed on the stretch of pavement behind her. She turned as a pair of headlights blinded her. Emerging from them were two men running toward her. She lurched to run, to escape, but they reached out and tackled her.

A man on each side grabbed her arms. Anna screamed and thrashed about. A hand closed over her mouth. She bit down on fingers.

"Fuck!" One of her assailants cried out in pain and withdrew his hand.

They forced her toward the car; the rear passenger door hung open. Another man sat at the driver's seat, waiting. "Careful, man," he said. "She's a fighter."

The man on her right said, "We'll see about that," and shoved her face first into the car. She fell onto the seat, her face scraping against the upholstery. The man she'd bit—she recognized him as the man who wore the baseball cap—came around the car and sat on her left. He produced a length of rope and with the other man's help tied her wrists together as she struggled and screamed.

"Blindfold her!"

The car's tires squealed again. The stench of burnt rubber engulfed her so that she barely noticed their speed. The two men bound her hands in front of her and covered her eyes with a strip of fabric.

"Shut up, bitch!" Pain radiated across her cheek as they struck her. Another hand clenched down on her breast. She screamed louder and kicked her feet against the seat in front of her.

"All right, enough!" came the voice from the front seat.

"The cunt bit me."

"Watch where you put your hands then, idiot. You heard what she did to Eddie."

One of them punched her so hard in the stomach that she momentarily lost her breath. She gasped. "I don't know any Eddie! You have the wrong person!"

"Oh, no we don't."

"Bitch, shut up and sit still or we're going to make things a lot worse for you!"

She stopped kicking but shook with rage. "You're making a big mistake!"