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It was too late for those worries now, though.
Now, all I could do was pray that Junior was okay, that maybe Barry had gotten to him, and seen to his wounds. And that my own death was relatively quick. Hoping for painless seemed impossible, but quick seemed attainable as the car sped around a few more corners before hitting the highway and slowing down.
I suppressed a grumble, knowing that the cops were parked all up and down the highway, trying to catch speeders and red-light-runners. These guys must have known that, though,because they made sure they obeyed the speed, the lights, and even the stop signs as we drove.
The man with his hand over my face also had his arm around my waist, the pressure so tight that I was sure I would bruise.
Not that bruising would matter.
Except maybe to the medical examiner. If they ever even found my body.
The men in the car were eerily silent, so all I heard was the whoosh of blood in my ears and my ragged breath against the hand covering my mouth and part of my nose.
The SUV pulled into a wide, empty lot set back a bit from the highway, the pavement cracked, the parking space lines nearly nonexistent. The woods behind and to the sides of it created a certain amount of privacy, and the fact that the building was a bit dilapidated made me assume these guys were just squatting here temporarily.
They pulled around to the back of the building where one of the big doors of the loading docks was open.
The engine cut, and the men in the front and to my other side climbed out. The door behind the man holding me opened, and he started to move backward, pulling me with him, grumbling as he did.
It was then that my innate stubbornness seemed to kick in.
They were going to take me.
But I didn’t have to make it easy, did I?
Maybe if I pissed them off enough, they’d just put a bullet in me and make it end before the torture even began.
So as the man got out, I went ahead and forced my body to go limp.
No, I likely wasn’t as heavy as he was. But it didn’t matter. Dead weight was dead weight. And as he pulled me down off the seat, a string of what sounded like curses erupted from him.
Of course, the flaw in my plan was that he wasn’t strong enough to stop my free fall, so my ass landed hard on the ground, making pain shoot up my spine.
But the way he grunted and grumbled as he tried to pull me across the pavement eased the sting a bit.
The man barked something at one of the other men who bent down, grabbing me under my knees, and lifted. Between the two of them, they got me in the air.
And that was when I did my best impersonation of one of those balloon guys they put out front of car dealerships, wiggling my body around as hard as I could, making them grunt and groan and yell at me.
I’d probably be more upset if I knew what they were saying. But my dumb ass had taken German and French in high school instead of the second most spoken language in the US.
Not that I remembered any of the German or French either.
But at least I had no idea if these guys were telling me all the awful ways they’d make me pay for being uncooperative in my kidnapping.
A win was a win.
Listening to them struggle under my wiggling weight as they went up the stairs was likely the last bit of enjoyment I would have in my life.
I didn’t have any delusions of escape.
Not with how outnumbered I was.
There were the five or six guys from Junior’s place. And there were about five more inside the back room of the empty building they dragged me into.
I mean, sure. If they were distracted enough, and I wasn’t bound, I could maybe make a mad dash toward the open loading door and just… throw myself out of it.
It would hurt like a mother, but I’d likely live unless I was stupid enough to fall on my head.
