The Journalist

The Journalist (Chapter twelve)

Chapter Twelve.

I began to stir, I was still blindfolded, I raised my arms (Which had been tied up in rope) and pulled the blind fold away from my face. I blinked a few times, I came to realise that I was in the boot of a car. My body ached all over, I tried not to move, because every time I did it felt like someone was hitting me with a bag of lead. Sweat poured out of me like there was no tomorrow, I really needed to stretch my legs. I wonder how long iv'e been here?

My head felt like it was full of water, it was too heavy to move, I heard the same voices that had been in my bathroom.

"She has been out for two days straight, maybe it wasn't such a good idea to knock her out and then give her sleeping tablets."

"Oh, shut up will you, we did what we were asked and we will be rewarded just like she said we would be."

"I don't know Paul, I have a bad feeling about this."

"Feeling, shmeeling think about all that money we'll have at the end of this. We can move out of the country and even change our identity if you really want to."

"Suppose, do you reckon she'll come round yet?"

"Dunno, i'll check."

I don't think so mister. With all the energy I had left, I sat up prepared, he opened up the boot. Luckily, the skinny one out of the two had came to check. With all my force I kick out my feet (which were also tied up) the full blow went to half face and he landed on the floor.

I staggered over like a half walking, half jumping zombie. He started to get up again.

"Not so fast."

With both of my hands I hit him across the face, he walked back clutching his bloody nose. With out hesitation, I drop kicked him right in the face. He fell backwards and hit his head on the concrete wall, he was out. Cold. I was now on the floor my ass was so numb, maybe the drop kick wasn't such a good idea.

I reached down to my feet with my fingers as best I could, fumbled with the rope wrapped around it. The knot didn't budge. I shuffled my way towards the man, who was still out cold and found a small pocket knife in his jeans.

I must have sat there a good ten minutes cutting through the rope on my feet, once the rope was released, my circulation was back. I smiled with victory and decided to do the same with the rope on my hands, it was more difficult than I anticipated but I did manage to cut through.

I wringed my wrists, there were rope burns cut into my skin. I winced when my finger tips came in contact. I brushed my bangs away from my face and retied my hair. I searched the weedy guy on the floor and found a hand gun. Perfect.

I saw the other guy, who must have been Paul, he was re-loading another gun. I creeped behind him, once close enough I hooked my arm around his neck and held the gun to his head.

"Right pal, you're going to tell me who you're working for, what you want and then get the hell outta here!"

"I-I-I."

"Get talking."

I wasn't going to show mercy. These guys had invaded my hotel room and kidnapped me, i'd been out for two whole days and I needed answers. I was hungry, angry and snappy. Paul started to laugh.

"Sweetheart, if I were you, I wouldn't be so sure you'll be able to get answers from me, even with a gun to my head i'm not saying nothing."

I tightened my grip around his neck and put the gun even closer to his temple, i'm sure if I removed the gun there would be a circular imprint on his head. I didn't have chance to blink before he caught me off guard and disarmed me, now I was the one with a gun to my head. For a second, I thought my Ninja skills had improved. Obviously I was wrong.

"I think we shall have a nice visit to my manager. Now walk!"

With the gun still to my head I walked, I held my breath, a lump formed in my throat. I wasn't sad, I was angry and petrified for my life. With my hands shaking, I was led into a dim, dismal warehouse.

There were crates and boxes surrounding the area. There was a single chair, which was in the centre of the room.

"Sit there and don't move."

I rolled my eyes, he came back with some rope. Not more of that stuff, my wrists were still throbbing from earlier. He grabbed my hand behind my back with so much force I thought they had been snapped off, I was now stuck on the chair binded with some tatty, old rope.

I could just about make out the surroundings around me, thick layers of dust surrounded my feet and little light reached where I was sitting. I heard a door slowly open behind me, I couldn't turn to find out who it was, but once I heard the familiar stilettos walking across the warehouse concrete, I knew exactly who it was.

"Missed me?" Her sugar-coated, candy voice asked.

I spat at her. "Go to hell."

She sweetly laughed. "I wouldn't be saying that when I have you tied to a chair."

I rolled my eyes. "You have me tied to a chair, you've got those to idiots to do you dirty work so you wouldn't break your fake nails."

She laughed again. "If I were you, i'd shut your mouth before anything bad happens."

"Hunny, bad is my middle name." She snarled and kicked the chair with her heels.

"Why are you doing this, Shontelle?"

"I thought the warning on the phone would be enough, but no, he was in such a rush to get to you the other day I knew it had to be stopped. This had to come to an end. I saw the pictures of you and Drake on the TV and that was it, I needed to finish you off the hard way."

So that's what Craig's warning was about, he'd knew all along that Shontelle was capable of doing something well...psychopathic, but what had Drake got to do with any of this?

"Wait...Drake?"

She shook her head. "Why should I be answering your questions?"

"Touché."

She narrowed her eyes. "Iv'e had enough of your silly little games."

"Afraid of loosing?" I smirked.

"Wipe that smirk off your face...or i'll do it for you!"

I rolled my eyes, that's a classic. "What are you waiting for?"

With that, she extended her hand and slapped me across my left cheek, the force made my head turn. I could feel my skin tingling from where she had hit me. I laughed.

"Is that all you've got?"

She screamed in frustration, balling her fists she went to punch my nose, I moved my head up and she managed to clip my lip. I felt the blood trickle down my chin but I carried on smiling, licking the blood away with my tongue.

"If you think you're that good, untie me and we will fight this out, no weapons, nothing."

"Do you really think i'm that stupid? You'll run as soon as you get the chance."

"Of course you're stupid, but you know, i'm really not complaining, am I?"

She slapped me again, this time with more force. "Just shut up. I'm here to ask the questions, how many times do I have to tell you."

I sighed, she continued. "What do you want with Drake Fox?"

I didn't answer, after all she had told me to shut up. She paced back and fourth waiting for me to answer and when I didn't she walked closer, her face inches away from mine, through gritted teeth she asked me again.

"What do you want with Drake Fox?"

Still I stayed silent.

"ANSWER ME!" she shouted.

I replied with something simple. "Nothing."

She scowled. "Paul, bring me the pocket knife."

I held my breath, was this the end I was going to face? Was she really that angry? Did she have it in her to kill me? what had I done wrong? All I did was have a civil conversation with Craig. And what was Drake to her?