Empty Threats

Monroe

Tw: graphic language, smut, sexual situations, kidnapping, violence, use of gun, ropes and duct tape, toxic dynamics/behavior.

It was the tickle in your nose that stirred you awake firstly. Then it was the putrid smell that followed. It was indescribable. Like something you'd never smelt before. It was so bad and so strong as you came to, you could feel your stomach flipping over and over. A nauseating feeling washing over you. You went to cough but your mouth was covered. Your eyes finally shot open, and you realized then and there the predicament you were in. Your hands strung above your head by rope from the beam above. Duct tape over your mouth. You were barely able to touch the ground with your feet. You glanced around the room, trying not to panic and your eyes landed on someone else who was strung from the beam off in the far corner of the room.

You pushed your tongue against the duct tape, soaking it in saliva and nullifying the stickiness of it. When it fell off, you called out to the stranger. "Hey! Hey you! Over there." But there was no response. Or movement. "Hey!" You raised your voice a little. Maybe they were knocked out like you had been.

"If you're waiting for a response, you're not going to get one from him." A strange voice replied, loud footsteps approaching from behind you. They stopped right near you. "He's dead."

You twisted about trying to see who was speaking but couldn't quite get there. The accent threw you off. Definitely a British undertone. "Who are you? And where the fuck am i?"

The owner of the voice stepped around to you, revealing a short haired blond man with a clean shaven face. Bright blue eyes. His lips curled into a smile. "Names monroe. I'm an associate of Lloyds. You're in my humble abode. Welcome." He extended out his hands and took a slight bow. "You're lucky. I've got orders not to kill you. No one's ever come down here and lived to tell about it."

"Is that why it smells like that?" You shuddered to think of how many people had been killed down here. "You said you're an associate of Lloyd's? So what? You're going to torture me?" You could feel the twitch in your face, in your eye as the anger bolted through you. Lloyd? Was he really so butt hurt he had to do this? He wasn't any better than Ransom. "Let me fucking go. People will look for me. You can't keep me down here."

Monroe nodded his head, pretending to be listening to you. He wasn't. Not a word. He didn't care. He had orders and he was going to follow them until told otherwise. "The thing is, I've taken care of that. Told your friend Chelsea there, you were taking a vacation and you didn't know when you'd be back." His blue eyes combed over your body, and then went back to your face. "Don't quite get the obsession those two boys have with you. You're plain." His tone was condescending, dripping with venom. He scoffed lowly in near disgust. "Settle in. You're going to be here awhile."

"Fuck you." You tugged at the ropes above, feeling the bristley material digging into your flesh. You winced and snarled back. "The FBI will look for me."

Monroe had began walking for the door but stopped when you mentioned the FBI. Lloyd had failed to mention that minute detail. He chuckled softly trying to play it off. "No worries. It'll get taken care of." He tugged the door open hard and let it slam as he stepped out of it. "Fucking lloyd." He grumbled as he pulled out his phone and dialed his number.

Lloyd answered with an annoyed tone. "What?"

"FBI huh?"

"I'm handling it. Money talks. Make sure she doesn't go anywhere. Shes...." He paused thinking of the right words. "Flighty. Do your job. Don't worry about anything else. And monroe?"

"Mmm?"

"Hands off."

"Whatever you say. Boss." Monroe hung up first, sliding his phone into his pocket and slipping into the control room. He slumped down in the chair and glanced to the computer monitor where a camera was on the room you and your not so alive buddy were in. He'd never had anyone escape before. He wasn't worried now. Plus, he hadn't slept in a few days. A nap wouldn't hurt anyone. He leaned back, kicking his feet up on the table and shut his eyes.