Rid of Me: A Love Story with a Body Count

Chapter 32

I looked out the window, I paid attention to all the landmarks and street names. Every turned he made. If we needed to escape, I needed to know what the fuck I'm going. I could see the back of Melissa's head as she leaned against the side window.

"Where are you taking us?" Melissa asked.

"Well," Uncle Frankie answered. "Got some digs out in the country. You could scream as loud as you want, but no one could hear you." He looked back at me and winked. "I can't wait to pop your sugar plum. I never had a slice of big red." He flickered his tongue.

"Leave her alone, Uncle Frankie," Melissa said. "Your problem is with me, not her."

His deep chuckled out shouted the talk show his was listening to on the radio. "I had tons of home cooking with you, so it was time for your guest to experience some hospitality."

"Damn," I commented. "What type of fucking asshole are you?"

"My own special kind." His demonic chuckle rung out of his mouth as he turned down a dirt road. There were a couple of houses on this street, but about an acre or so apart, too far away to hear our screams. Even if we did scream, he would shot us in the car. He pulled and parked next to a log cabin with a chimney and rusted roof.

"Cozy," Melissa said.

"It serve a purpose," Uncle Frankie replied. He got out of the car and slammed the door behind him. He walked on my side of the car and opened my door. He grabbed my arm, dragged me out and I fell on the ground. He pointed his gun on me. "Don't try anything funny?"

"Fuck you, asshole!" I said.

"I hope the fire in your belly matches the fire of your crouch," Uncle Frankie said.

"I know the blood in your neck matches the bandana around your my wrist."

"Cute," he said. "I bet you can suck a mean dick, but I know Melissa got you beat in that department." The rocks and dirt crunched beneath his feet as he took one step closer to me. He placed his foot on my chest and pointed the gun at my head. "Are you even worth it, fire crouch?"

I saw his finger slowly squeezing the trigger. This is how I'm going out? By some pathetic molesting uncle?

"No!" Melissa tugging at her handcuffs. "Do whatever you want to me, but don't fucking hurt her."

He pointed his gun to the ground. "This must be love," he said, then he kicked me in the stomach.

"Fuck you!" Melissa yelled.

"Both of y'all will be doing that soon enough." He walked back to the van and opened the door. Melissa flew out and dragged on the ground as her hands still handcuffed to the inside door handle. He wrapped his forearm around her neck, he placed on his hip. I watched her face turn red as he unhooked her from the door. I could rush him, but he could snap her neck or choke her out. My goal was to get both of us out of here alive. Melissa's hands raced to his forearms, but Uncle Frankie handcuffed her hands together in front of her. He let go of her neck and grabbed his gun. Melissa's coughing fits, seemed to annoy Uncle Frankie as he pulled her up to her feet.

"You don't gag anymore, little girl," he said with a chuckled. Melissa answered his commented with a large wad of spit in his face. He refused to wipe the gob away as it dripped off his cheek. "I guessed you don't swallow anymore. I'll make sure you get back to your old ways." He pointed the gun back at me. "Get the fuck up!" he ordered. I struggled to get to my feet, but with a gun pointed to my head, I made it happened.

He ordered Melissa to open the door and I followed into the darkness of the cabin. Uncle Frankie turned on the lights, which blinded me for a few seconds, before my eyes adjusted. He shoved my back, pushing me into Melissa as our bodies fell to the hardwood floor. The door slammed behind him. And hanged the keys on the nail by the door. We rose to our knees facing Uncle Frankie.