The Color of Your Eyes

Chapter 14: Chair

I felt my body aching when I opened my eyes. I couldn't move my arms or my legs. Wait, why can't I move?

I lifted my head and looked around. I was in an empty room with only a hanging lamp and another chair in the corner in front of me. The walls were a bit dirty and damp. Not a nice place. I tried to move my wrists. No chance, they seemed to be tied together.

Oh no, no, no... please let this just be a nightmare. I will wake up any minute and find myself in my motel room or at home.

I tried to struggle and jump up and down the chair, making a couple of loud thuds. My wrists hurt and felt burnt, I inhaled sharply.

Okay, no dream. That's just great. Why am I tied? Who kidnapped me and for what reason? I have no rich parents; I have no super-secret government information, I'm no Beyoncé, I have nothing, and I'm a nobody, so why in heaven's name did I end up in this misfortune?

When I realized the gravity of my situation, I believed that God must have really made my life turn into a bad joke. Suddenly I couldn't help myself but laugh at her situation. My laughing attracted the attention of someone because I heard footsteps approaching.

The door opened and two guys entered. One guy had tattoos all over his body and looked like the type of guy you wouldn't want to mess with. The other one...

"Poke?" I blurted out in disbelief.

"So, you do know me? I ain't so stupid now, huh?" he grinned.

What he was saying doesn't make any sense. "What's the meaning of this?" I asked more firmly, clearly reaching my limit of not being pissed off at the world, everyone else, and myself for not having the right to even grieve and move on peacefully.

"I'm the one who asks the questions here, Dove," the tattooed man said before grabbing another chair and dragging it to place it right in front of me.

I watched him take a seat on his chair, then he leaned against it forward, putting his arms crossed on top of the back of the chair.

"Are you Emilia Clarson?" he asked sternly.

"What do you want from me?" I asked back.

"Hey, I said I'm the one asking the questions here!" he barked.

I looked at him with a mixture of fear and annoyance.

"Are you Lia?"

"Yes," I said, gritting my teeth.

"Good," the man said. Then he signaled Poke to get closer and handed him a couple of bills of hundreds of Dollars.

"You can go Poke, I got all I needed," he then dismissed him.

Poke glanced at me, shooting me an apologetic look. I made sure to glare back at him before he left us alone.

The man grunted in disgust. "God, I can't believe that you're Lia. Jake truly doesn't deserve someone as pretty as you," the tattooed man said, his voice dripping with hatred.

My frown disappeared and my eyes widened.

Okay, I have expected anything but this.

"Eh, what does Jake have anything to do with me?" I asked confused.

The man raised an eyebrow. "Isn't he your boyfriend?"

Okay, that's enough!

"He is not my boyfriend!" I yelled while jumping up and down with the chair.

The man didn't seem fazed. He took out a cigarette and lit it. "That's not what I heard."

I felt like smashing my head to the ground. Who is spreading these rumors?!

"Then you heard wrong! Go check your ears!"

"You can say whatever you want, this won't change your situation," he checked me out from head to toe.

"Let go of me! You got the wrong girl. Jake is not my boyfriend, he doesn't feel anything towards me, he doesn't even know I still exist. If you want to find someone who is way more important than me, you can find plenty because it is absolutely, definitely, and positively not me!" I tried to catch my breath after my angry outburst. A feeling of guilt and regret washed over me as I realized that I would put Hannah and Lilly in danger if I mention anything further about any other person who is way more important to Jake than I am, so I retracted my statement a little.

"I might be his friend, no, acquaintance, but that's it..."

The person sitting in front of me just exhaled smoke from his cigarette. I started to cough when the smoke reached my face.

"Well, only one way to find out whether you two are an item or not," he said, grinning. Then he took out his phone and pressed a button. I heard the familiar sound of a video being recorded.

"Say something," he commanded.

"Go sit on a cactus," I spat angrily, still coughing.

"Feisty little thing isn't she?" the man asked, and I looked at him in confusion. Then I realized he was saying that to whoever he recorded the video for.

"Well, Jake, if you don't want your pretty little girlfriend here-"

"For the last time! He is not-"

"-to get hurt-"

"-my boyfriend!"

"-I suggest you do as I say."

He kept recording me as I struggle, trying to free my legs, so I could kick him in the shin.

"Get me the money, or else..." the man is starting to stroke my cheek, and I turned my head away in disgust.

"Hey! Back off!" this stress is really getting into my head. "You are insane. Jake would never do that, not for someone like me, you are delusional, stupid-"

"You have 12 hours to get me the 10,000 Dollars as a start, a sign for your cooperation."

"- brainless, your tattoos are ugly, can't believe you let Poke work for you, who does that?"

"Oh and in case I wasn't clear enough if I don't get my money, your pretty little girlfriend is going to pay it to me instead, one way or another," the man stopped recording me and I glared daggers at him.

"What do you think you are doing? Are you insane? There is no way Jake would ever get so much money for you! He is not rich; he doesn't come from a wealthy family!"

The man smiled, seemingly very amused. "No", he said while extinguishing his cigarette. "But Jake has ways to get that much money..."

I froze and felt my stomach drop.

"You... you want him to steal the money...?" I gasped. "But from whom?"

The man shrugged. "Bank, government, billionaires, I don't care. I saw his skills firsthand, I know he is excellent, and I know he can do it. And on top of it all, I know he will do it as long as I have you," he grinned menacingly as he tapped my nose.

My eyes hardened, and I tried to struggle again.

"Well, good luck waiting for him, because he won't do it," I said firmly.

"Oh, but you see, I will get my two million, one way or another," he said.

Did he say two million?!

"You see, if he doesn't get me the money, you will get it for me instead. Or let's say, you will make me the money," he stood up.

"And how do you think can I get you that money?" I scoffed.

The tattooed man tilted his head. "Simple, you are going to copy paint any paintings and I will sell them on the black market. Once I have the two million dollars, I will let you go."

I opened my mouth in disbelief. The man nodded in satisfaction and left me alone before I could utter another word.

I was sitting there, tied to a chair, held captive somewhere hidden, no one knows I am missing, and the only guy who has a chance to free me doesn't seem to care about me at all.

Well, I guess this is the end of me. There is no hope.

I hung my head and just close my eyes. Game over.