Page 81 of Exquisite Taste


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Bat. Shit. Crazy.

She has absolutely lost her mind.

I look around, trying to find a way to escape. The binds around my wrists are too tight. Fuck. I’m fucked. I don’t know how long it’s been, or how long I’ve been here. It’s dark outside, which tells me a while, and that worries me. I’ve been missing for some time, and no one’s found me.

Not good.

I try to remember how long Damien said he would be gone. What if work took longer than he imagined? What if he sent me a text saying he would be late and to go home or eat—or get kidnapped by a psychopath and die in the woods!

“Fuck!”

“What was that?” Sylvia returns, holding a phone. Phone! Oh my God, is that my phone? The tracker Damien put on the bat phone. Oh, please let it be the bat phone.

“You calling to turn yourself in? Realizing men aren’t into crazy—”

Her fingers wrap into my hair, and I scream as she yanks down. “You stupid bitch. You think I would have your phone just sitting here? No, no…this is your pathetic friend’s phone. Just sending a little message from her phone to yours. I mean, who would they suspect first? The jaded best friend, ya know!” Her evil smile does nothing to assure me I’ll make it out alive.

“You won’t win in the end. He won’t want you.”

“I always get what I want!” she yells. “This will be no different. It’s you who loses here, freakshow. Not me. I win. I win!”

She tugs hard, trying, and possibly succeeding, at ripping half my head of hair out. My eyes blur from the pain and my scalp feels like it’s on fire. A shadow appears from beyond the trees and she lets go as someone comes into view. Sylvia turns around letting off a grade A sorority level huff. “Where have you been? How long does it take to light a match?” she snaps.

“I had to stop at an urgent care. That bitch broke my nose. Not to mention the four stitches I had to get in my head.” Jake walks onto the landing, showing a bit of wear and tear.

“Oh, poor baby. Did you get your ass kicked by a girl?” Gone is the kind smile he tricked me with at school. In its place is anger and resentment.

“Bitch, you’re the one tied to a chair in the middle of the woods. I don’t think you should be talking shit. If you want, I’ll let you suck my dick as your last dying wish.” He laughs, and Sylvia rolls her eyes.

“Hard pass,” I respond. “Curious, though. How did Sylvia get you to do her dirty work? Or have you always been a fucking psychopath like her?”

He comes at me, and my eyes shut as I wait for the blow. Nothing comes, and when I reopen them, Sylvia is on him, with her tongue down his throat.

“Oh my God, seriously? I thought you didn’t like her? Jesus, your cheesy letter-wearing club cults confuse me.”

Sylvia pulls away and wipes at her pink lipstick. Jake looks like he wants to finish me off. “Well, when I told him what a conniving little slut you were, and how you were just stringing him along, I took it upon myself to do what you couldn’t. Please him. And you know men. They’ll do anything for a fuck. Little ol’ Jakey offered to kidnap you for a simple blowjob. Isn’t that cute?”

All I was worth was a measly blowjob? Gee. Thanks. “Hope it was worth it, douchebag, ‘cause your freedom’s coming to an end soon. Damien will find me. And you’re both fucked!”

Jake comes at me. “You lying bitch,” he snaps, but the nervousness in his tone tells me he’s not so sure. He turns to Sylvia. “She’s lying, right? We’re good? You said this couldn’t be traced back to us.”

Sylvia scoffs, throwing her hair over her shoulder. “Chillax, she’s just trying to mess with you. No one saw us. We took the back way and she was covered in a sheet.”

They covered me in a sheet?

Okay, I take it back, she’s not batshit crazy, she’s a lunatic.

“Oh yeah? Did you clean up the blood bath? DNA, pal. Your blood is all over that room.” I dig at him some more, hoping they’ll turn on each other. Jake’s head snaps to Sylvia. I’ve succeeded in freaking him out.

“Don’t look at me like that,” she hisses at him.

“Then tell me she’s fucking lying. Is she lying? Can they track that shit?”

Sylvia shrugs her dainty shoulders, trying to come off unfazed, but she’s failing at not looking nervous herself. “Well, how should I know? I don’t watch those FBI shows.”

“Sylvia—”

“What! I didn’t tell you to get whacked in the head with a lamp and bleed everywhere!” Jake starts to flip out, pacing back and forth. Sylvia looks like no one’s home. I try to sway back and forth, hoping to fall over and break the chair. I’m an okay runner. I can run into the woods and hide.

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