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“Let me go!” Ari struggled, though it did no good. Her legs cramped. All her muscles burned.
“Shut up, bitch!” The deep-voiced man hoisted her off the floor and slammed her back against the steel wall, where something pierced her skin like a knife.
A bloodcurdling scream from the pain reverberated throughout the van as a river of wetness ran down her spine. Then, another sharp pain. This time to her temple, which knocked her into a deeper darkness.
Terry sidled across from her in the café, a smug grin resting with confidence on his face. “I don’t see the problem. Clearly, the article struck a nerve with them,” he said, then took a sip of coffee from his mug.
Leaning forward, trying not to make a scene, Ari gritted her teeth. “Can’t you see the position you’ve put me in? They are gonna find out it’s me. Besides, just outing a bunch of politicians isn’t the story. At least that wasn’t the story you hired me to investigate. Or was it?”
For a smart guy, Terry was an idiot. “How would they? I published the piece under my name. I did not mention you.”
“Yeah, about that ... Isn’t this my story?” Ari questioned, not thrilled with Terry or CityBeats at the moment. The once up-and-coming news website now placed distaste in her mouth due to its lack of integrity by publishing something that wasn’t newsworthy. They, or Terry, published a public shaming to tarnish the reputations of elites looking for a place to indulge. CityBeats was a cheap tabloid looking for a buck.
The story Terry wanted was the one she wasn’t giving them. Hers.
“And besides, it’s pretty obvious I’m the guilty party. I showed up and now there’s a list of members printed. I’d look at myself first too. What if your brilliant plan falls through?”
“It won’t. You’re spooked, just like they are. They can’t hide behind their cloak of money anymore.”
“Damn right, I’m spooked!” Ari shuffled her feet, still feeling the pain on her bandaged feet. She wasn’t about to tell Terry this because she had second thoughts about implicating Dylan in a non-consent abuse story. Just then, Dylan caught her eye. She pressed her mouth shut and reached out to Terry, hushing him from speaking.
She regained consciousness when the van skidded around a corner and sent her body into a violent tumble across the floor. The steel-toe boots of her captor stopped the momentum of her bound frame. As if she were a nuisance, he kicked her away like a piece of trash cluttering his space. Bile rose from her stomach, too much pain coursing over her. There was no way for her to pick herself up with her hands and feet strapped behind her.
Panic washed over Ari, sinking into the realization of her imminent death. The tear-soaked bag over her head choked her as she breathed in a combination of humidity and rotten fish. That, coupled with the unbearable pain from the puncture on her back, threatened to introduce the smell of vomit into the mix. Ari braced herself for whatever came next, which included hitting every pothole in the city.
She pushed the panic driving her fear aside, determined to fight the only way she knew how. Information. Ari was a survivor, and she needed to use her skills as an investigative reporter to process the clues and what she already knew. There were at least three men. Two of the men in the van argued, one coming from the very front, possibly the driver. Another was the one in the back who used the help of a third man to toss her into the van.
They were downtown, based on the sounds of car engines and blaring horns from angry drivers. The bounce of the van and the loose metal sound rattling beneath them meant a train track. She knew the approximate time, and based on the ringing of the L-Line bell, they just passed the East End terminal.
No one quits. They are simply never seen again.
This had to be that. Terry’s article. Dylan’s discovery. Adytum was behind her abduction, this much she knew. It didn’t seem plausible for Dylan to be the mastermind behind her kidnapping, even with the memory of hatred and betrayal filling Dylan’s cold eyes. There were warning signals from day one, but she ignored them, as well as Dylan’s plea to stay away.
No one quits. They are simply never seen again. If this was the case, she wouldn’t be going home. Ever.
“Seriously, I hate looking for the entrance to this place,” the man up front said.
“Shut up and find it already. It can’t be that fucking hard.” With a huff, the man next to her grumbled, “I should have driven.”
Another sharp corner sent Ari rolling into hard boots again. Annoyed at the situation, he kicked her away. This time, the steel toe landed square on her temple, swallowing her into unconsciousness.
Not caring what else Adytum could do to her, Ari stormed out of Dylan’s office. The anger building within Ari was like a pressure cooker ready to explode. What a poor excuse!
“I didn’t have a choice,” Ari mocked to herself as she stormed toward the ballroom.
Sure, she had a choice. Say fucking no! Instead, she humiliated her and abused her for the sake of a job. Though she was no better, returning to work on a story when Dylan warned her to stay away. It wasn’t safe. “Safe” was subjective, a gray area depending on who she asked.
Spending the night on the streets posing as a transgendered male might have been dangerous, but there was strength in numbers and a tight-knit community. So far, Adytum had not been so welcoming. The internal rant was not helping the situation. Ari digressed. Back to work.
As soon as Ari stepped onto the floor, Maxi grasped her arm. “Perfect timing. Your presence is requested, and I don’t think you are in any position to deny our dwindling clientele what they are paying a premium to enjoy.”
Ari said nothing as she noticed Dylan step onto the floor. No longer in a position to protect her, she could not rush to Ari’s aid. Instead, she stood idly by as Maxi dragged Ari through the ballroom toward the arena. Whatever game this was, Ari would have to play along.
Two beautiful women, who mirrored each other, stood onstage. Their hungry eyes and salacious smirks greeted Ari as Maxi delivered her to them. Fed up and feeling cocky, Ari curtsied in front of them. “And how may I please you two lovely souls tonight?”
Not amused, The Twins lunged for her. Each gripping an arm as they flung her toward the pillory, still standing after her corporal punishment. They heaved her onto the table and secured her ankles in the ancient stockade. It all happened in one swift, painful movement. Bound from top to bottom, she could no longer move.
Although shrouded in fear, she’d not let them, or Maxi, see that. Apathy was the only way she could keep the terror at bay. With an indignant mask, Ari taunted, “Oh, this feels so good, and it’s double the fun!”
