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I knew I was being hard on myself, chastising myself for being weak, and I wished I could show myself some grace. I was positive many women and men had fallen for Antonio’s charm—to their detriment.
“Hello,” I said again, hoping the person I was tied against wasn’t dead. “Oh Lord.” I could feel myself wanting to throw up. What if I was attached to a dead man, and his body started rotting and decaying? And all I could see was that this stuffy space would eventually have that ammonia smell of rotten eggs. And maggots would grow on his carcass, and maybe rats would come and take a nibble.
“Settle down, Callie.” I knew I would drive myself into a frenzy if I kept up my thoughts. “Think of something else. Think about…” My voice drifted off as I tried to think about something other than what was happening. “Butterflies.” I groaned. “What the fuck do you know or care about butterflies, Callie?” I giggled slightly, hysteria threatening to take over. “What are the different species of butterflies? Hmm, are they species or breeds… or ethnicities.” I giggled louder this time. “Butterflies can’t be in ethnic groups, stupid. Monarch butterflies are pretty.” I tried to picture a monarch butterfly, but I couldn’t. “Fuck, what do they look like?” I could hear the panic in my voice. “Do I have memory loss?” I tried to move my body back and forth as if that would open up my brain.
“Ugh.” The person behind me groaned as they awakened, and I’d never felt more relief before in my life. They weren’t dead. I wasn’t going to be attached to a corpse for the rest of my life.
“Hello?” My voice was timid, and I was nervous. I still had no idea who I was next to. “Are you alive?” I whispered, trying to sound like some sort of kick-ass non-scared warrior like Joan of Arc or Helen of Troy, but instead, my voice sounded like a Care Bear.
“No, I’m dead, and we’re in hell.” The deep voice was familiar, and my heart fluttered when I realized I was tied next to Antonio. So he was really going along with this shit, was he? Anger started to fill me, but I could feel relief flooding through my body. This was part two of Antonio’s kidnapping plan. I had to give him credit; he was trying to throw me off and make me think that this entire ordeal was real. Maybe I’d submit his name to the Academy for an Oscar right before I shot him in the heart with a rifle for teasing and tormenting me. And then maybe I’d shoot myself because I was the dumbass that had initially played along. I was very curious to know what his end game was.
“Welcome back to the world, Antonio.” I was grateful that he was awake, even if I did hate him again.
“Are you okay?” His voice was hoarse, and I could feel him moving his body back and forth, trying to untie himself.
“I’m okay. My head feels like it was pounded in with a hammer, but besides that, I’m right as rain. I could most probably run a marathon right now. Sign me up for the Boston Marathon and the New York Marathon. And hey, I’ve never even done a 5k before, but I feel like I’m Superwoman now. Maybe I’ve been injected with some sort of magical venom, kinda like Peter Parker was—”
“Callie!” Antonio’s voice sounded amused and annoyed. “Now is not the time for your rambling.”
“You know that I ramble when I’m scared or anxious or…”
“I know, little lamb, and don’t worry. I’m not going to let anything happen to you.”
“Thanks, Mr. Mole. Or should I call you Mr. Wolf? Or do you have a new name right now?”
“What would my new name be?”
“Mr. Spider,” I said with a hiss. “Anansi.”
“Huh?” He sounded confused. “Why would I be a spider?”
“Anansi, the spider, is a traditional Ashanti tale,” I said softly, not sure why I was explaining what I had to say to him.
“Sorry, Ashanti the singer?” he asked, and I would have laughed if I wasn’t so worked up and angry.
“The Ashanti people are from Ghana, in Africa. Anyway, the story made its way to the Caribbean, and that’s how I know it. My grandfather told me the story when I was young.”
“Oh yes, I forgot that you had family that was from there.” He sounded amused. “You’re a child of the world.”
“I suppose so,” I mumbled. “Do you want to know the story or not?”
“I am interested in hearing it.” He shifted sharply to the right, and I went tumbling down to the side. “Oh, sorry.”
“Watch it, Antonio.”
“Sorry, I was just trying to get us untied.”
“Well, try a little softer.”
“I don’t think softer is going to be an option right now.” His voice was a mix of mirth and frustration. “We’ve got to get out of here before these people come back.”
“Uh-huh,” I mumbled, really wanting to say, “You mean Jimmy and whoever else you hired to fake this shit?”
“Okay…” he said as his fingers moved back and forth against mine. “I’m going to try and untie the rope around your wrists, and if I can accomplish that, we should be okay. Continue telling the story as I work.”
“Yes, boss.” I pressed my parched lips together as best as I could. I was frustrated and annoyed and just wanted to scream, punch, and kick Antonio. Fury was burning inside of me. I also wasn’t sure if I wanted to continue my side of the farce anymore. Pretending to believe him and his lies was infuriating me now. How dumb did he think I was?
“So, tell me why you’re calling me Assassin or whatever the name you called me was?”
