Scandal

three

I woke up with a pounding headache, hesitant to fully awake. My eyelids were heavy and my back ached even worse than it had before. I adjusted slightly taking some of the strain off my back by lying on my side. The sunlight streaming through the window hit my eyes causing me to squint. It was daylight outside, with that realization came the thoughts of . . . however long ago it was that I was being dragged into an alley way as I tossed and turned in the curly-haired boy's grip. The last thing I remember seeing was the ground splattered in russet blood before blacking out. I wasn't exactly sure how it happened, I just know it did. Once my thoughts and dreams dispersed I realized I was lying in the back seat of a car, which appeared to be some sort of jeep judging from the interior.

My wrists were tense, I could feel them throbbing through the thick rope keeping them bounded together tightly behind my back. I was tied up ... my feet ... my wrists... there was no escape. There was even some sort of cloth or fabric tied around my head, restraining my mouth, keeping me from talking or screaming I suppose. I slowly lifted my neck up so I could see the person in control of the vehicle-- just as I had assumed, it was the boy with the dark chestnut, tousled curls. I stared at him intently, watching his every move. He tapped his finger on the steering wheel. By his actions, I could tell he was annoyed and impatient but what I couldn't figure out was if it was because of the slow traffic or if he was waiting for something to happen. Probably both. He kept glancing over his shoulders- each time I closed my eyes to make sure he didn't know I was awake just yet- something was irritating him. He was on edge, constantly checking his surroundings and glancing over at the passenger's seat where his phone was carelessly tossed, as if he was expecting a call.

"C'mon c'mon" he huffed under his breath, tightening his grip on the steering wheel. I could clearly see the muscles in his arms even through the leather jacket he adorned. He pulled out of the lane we were currently in and into the shoulder of the road, before pressing his foot on the gas and passing up all the non-moving traffic. Cars were beeping their horns at us as we sped past them, but he didn't seem to care. This was so illegal. I don't understand why he would risk getting pulled over by a cop when he had a girl tied up in the backseat of his car. After passing up all the traffic he pulled back onto the road and slowed down to match the speed limit. He leaned back against the seat of the chair and loosened his grip on the steering wheel, finally relaxing. What the hell was that all about? Both of our attention diverted to the passenger seat when his phone abruptly rang. He let out a deep groan as he picked up the phone, checking his caller I.D. then placing it to his ear.

"I took care of it" he said into the phone between gritted teeth. I could only hear one side of the conversation.

"Stop worrying about it; I cleaned up your whole fucking mess."

"They found me, but I lost them awhile ago. You're good right?"

"Alright but listen, Nick, I'm not taking the heat for something you did. This was all you're fucking fault."

I desperately wanted to know what was going on. I assumed Nick was the blonde guy from that night. They clearly didn't travel together. I had so many unanswered questions lingering in my mind, like 'who found him?' 'Who was he trying to get away from?' 'What mess did he have to take care of?' 'What the hell happened after I blacked out?' 'How the hell did I even black out?' 'where was this Nick guy?' and 'who was he going to have to take' 'the heat' from?' I needed answers. I strained my ears trying to listen to the voice on the other side of the call, but I still couldn't make out any actual words.

"I'll call him and let him know we're coming back early"

"I'll be there in two hours." he paused looking back at me--who was still pretending to be unconscious-- before continuing on "Maybe three."