Long Term Plans Short Term Fixes

83. Calls

Katie

There's a stinging pain in my hand that brings me to open my eyes. I don't know where I'm at. What is that buzzing noise? I force myself to come to enough to truly see my surroundings. With much effort my eyes barely open and the first thing I see is Sam is sitting beside me. He has my hand and a tattoo gun. That explains the stinging.

"What the fuck are you doing?" I groan.

"Part of your birthday present baby. You love tattoos so much, So I'm giving you a new one. You seem to have gotten a lot of new ones lately." He says with disgust while running a hand over the pirate ship exposed on my thigh. I'm still wearing the boxers and t-shirt I found on the floor. "I know you'll love it and you're awake just in time for me to finish up."

He sets the tattoo gun down on the coffee table he's currently sitting on, and wipes off my hand. He then tells me I can look. It's a tiny sunflower on the top of my hand in the space between my thumb and first finger. In any other circumstances it would be cute, he's actually a decent tattoo artist.

"You're fucking insane you know that?"

He ignores my statement reaching in his pocket for something. "Here take this for the pain." He hands me a white pill and I actually know what this one is. It's the least concerning of the drugs he's been pumping me full of so I take it without a fight. He hands me some type of alcohol to wash it down with.

I look around the room. We aren't in the same apartment as before the lack of blood spatter in the living room wall is the first clue. The images of the last thing I witnessed play in my brain and I shutter, barely holding back my urge to vomit. I'm glad we're not there anymore. This place looks familiar but not at the same time.

"Where are we?"

"Don't you recognize it?"

"Sort of but my minds a little fuzzy at the moment." I say it with an attitude "Where is this?" The inability to fully realize where I am is starting to make me panic.

"It's your apartment. From when you first moved to New York. Don't you like it?"

"Why though? Why would you bring me here and how?"

"I thought you'd like to be home, feel more comfortable."

"I'll never be home with you Sam, not anymore. My home is looking for me right now and they'll find me."

"They might find you, the question is will you be breathing when they do?" There's a knock on the door and he gets up to answer it. I'm glad for this distraction his temper was coming out. Kyle comes in with a small duffel bag. "Just in time bro, I'm fresh out." He tells Kyle.

They go over to the kitchen area. It's only separated from the living room by a half wall with a look through cut out so I can still see and hear them. Which means they can still see me. If I try to run the furthest I'll make it is the hallway, that's if my legs would even carry me that far. I was already pushing his buttons attempting an escape while he has help here is not smart. On top of that his pistol is still in his waistband. I checked as soon as he stood up.

"Any trouble taking out the trash?" Sam questions Kyle.

"Nah, but I'm sure they had a good freak out finding that at their door." They both laugh.

Ryan, they mean Ryan's body. Did he take his body to my friends? God I just want to get home, I know they're freaking out. If he took a dead body there they'll be panicked. I hope they know I want to come home. Sam pulls things out of the bag Kyle brought in. I can see him preparing more drugs. He comes into the living room a minute later with a plate of powder and supplies.