《Disastrous》2
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"Can you tell me where we're going?" I asked as Corey and Jake helped me sit down in the back of the van. This vehicle only had two seats, meaning the three of us would be sitting on the floor for the entire ride.
I couldn't see Sam or Colby due to the sheet of metal separating them from us. I was leaned up against it, and if I really wanted to I could eavesdrop on their conversation because of the holes that were in the wall for ventilation.
"Home," Jake said with a smile, and I found myself getting annoyed with him and repetitive answers.
"Where," I repeated, dragging out the word.
"California," Corey said with a shrug, adjusting himself on the floor to be more comfortable.
"What? That's halfway across the country!" I gasped, elbowing the wall to get the boy's attention, "You are not taking me to California! I refuse to go with any of you!"
Assuming that Colby was driving, he slammed on the brakes before pressing the gas pedal just as roughly. My body slid forward, and with the movement of everything else in the van, my head slammed into the wall.
"You don't have a choice," Colby snapped from the front, "We're getting on a plane in the morning to Texas," He added, in a quieter tone.
"I hate all of you," I glared at Jake and Corey, my face a mixture of disgust and anger, "At this point I really wish you would have killed me, left me to die like my grandfather,"
The mention of his death made my heart hurt, my lungs ache as I tried to take a deep breath. The sticky summer air made it feel as if I couldn't expand my lungs completely, making breathing difficult.
"Look, we're sorry about your pops," Corey sighed, picking at his nails in disinterest, "But he's not the man you thought he was,"
"Corey shut up!" Colby shouted from the front seat, and with that the three of us fell into silence.
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As we readjusted ourselves after hitting some serious bumps, Jake spoke up, "And we're not going to kill you. We don't do that,"
"But an elderly man is an exception?" I said sarcastically, and he shook his head before defending himself and his friends.
"It's what Corey said but I won't repeat because I'm half convinced Colby will stab me," He smiled, unamused. It seemed as if these three boys lived in fear of what Colby might do to them.
And that's going to be me soon. When we get to California.
I could feel my arms begin to itch, and being that they were behind my back and cuffed together there was nothing I could do about it.
I began to slide myself back and forth along the wall to relieve my suffering, before giving up and blinking back and forth between the two boys.
"Can you please let me out of the handcuffs? I won't try anything, I promise," I tried to convince them, but they shared an uneasy look between each other.
"My arm is itchy as hell," I persisted, and Corey sighed before digging the key out of his front pocket.
I slid forward, making it easier for Corey to do as I asked. "Fine," He said, undoing one of the cuffs so my arms were free. He let the pair hang from my right hand, so they'll be easy to put back on, "But as soon as this van stops, they go back on. Got it?"
This was the sternest I've ever seen mister man bun, so I nodded along to his words.
After sitting in silence, the three of us facing each other in a triangle, I asked the question that was on my mind.
"Which one of you...." I trailed off before repeating myself, "Which one of you did it? Which one of you shot him?"
I watched Jake's face as he went pale, and Corey's eyes widened. Colby must have been listening in on the conversation, because he answered for them. Though it wasn't the answer I was expecting.
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"Corey, I swear to god if you answer that question I will pull over this piece of shit for a vehicle and shoot the both of you," Colby barked before falling into silence once more.
I didn't bother trying to listen to Colby, I knew he wouldn't actually shoot the men who did the dirty work for him. He would shoot me, the stranger he kidnapped. That's probably what would happen to me, anyways.
They'll kill me before we reach California and leave my body somewhere, just like how they left my grandfather. "My parents will find you," I growled, my tone changing quicker than you could flick a light switch.
"Your parents won't do shit, love," Colby responded from the front of the van, "Disappearance cases hardly go statewide, let alone the whole from Kentucky to California. And you won't want to go back, because all the evidence that is there shows that you killed your grandfather. What a lovely surprise for your parents," He sounded like he was smiling. Oh what I would do to slap his face into Hell.
"Don't call me that, I'm not your love. I am here against my will, can't you see that?" I felt my throat closing in, and I knew I couldn't cry. Not here, no. Not here.
"Obviously," Jake agreed, his voice no more considerate than Colby's, "You're crying in the back of a van on the way to a house in the middle of nowhere. Plus, the van is white. And you're with four dudes. You're probably traumatized,"
"That's one way to describe it," I sighed, letting my head fall back against the wall.
I needed to get out of here, and the second I did I would turn them all in to the police. I would wait until they fell asleep and then I would sneak out.
So that's what I did. As Jake promised, we arrived at a house in the middle of nowhere. Sam actually took the handcuffs completely off, but still held my arm as he had led me into the house.
Even though it was hardly noon when I left to go to my grandfather's house, it was now almost nighttime. We had been driving for a long ass time, so stretching my legs did some good.
Colby guided me into a room undeneath a staircase. It was a small room, like a large closet. In the room was a cot, two granola bars and a water bottle.
Instead of laying on the cot, I sat on the floor, crossing my arms and staring up at Colby. "Why can't you just be grateful and not stubborn?" He asked impatiently, mocking my stance while crouching in front of me.
"I promise you, this could be much worse. You could be in the basement," His voice dragged out, almost in a singsong tone. That was about as close to humor as this man got. I stayed still, glaring at him silently. His voice dropped, along with his eyebrows, "And you don't want that. I promise you,"
I didn't know whether he was serious or not, so I stayed still. The second he stood fully, going to grab my hand to take me out of the room I knew he wasn't messing around.
I slid away from his reach, doing my best to quickly stand up and climb into the cot.
"There," Satisfaction lit up his eyes as he walked to the door, turning around to face me one final time, "That wasn't so hard, was it?"
Then, with that, I was left alone.
I knew all I had to do was wait, wait for them to fall asleep so I could escape. I could go back home, report these bozos to the police and live a normal life.
A normal life without my grandfather in it.
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