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I kicked and scrambled, but I was no match for the two refrigerator-sized men, who held me down and duct-taped my wrists together behind the chair back.
"There, that's better," Messina said once I was properly tied down. He bent down, although he was still a few solid feet from me. "Tsk, tsk, tsk," he clicked his tongue. "That's quite a goose egg you got there, Red. You shouldn't be so clumsy."
"Whatever I have is because of you and your fucking gorillas," I seethed, pulling again at my taped wrists, which only caused the tape to dig further into my skin.
Messina stood up and shrugged. "Whatever you say, sweetheart. To me, it just looks like you took a nasty little fall. High heels'll kill you."
He tapped the side of his nose and chuckled with the other two men, who had taken places against the wall on either side of the doorway. I glared. I had nothing on my feet now, but I'd been wearing flip-flops when they'd taken me.
"Well, I got some bad news for you, Red," Messina said. It was amazing how the nickname, which had always sounded so sweet out of Brandon's mouth, was positively nauseating from Messina's.
I pushed again at my restraints. The tape didn't budge, and its knife-edge only made me angrier. "What's that? Did the insurance company deny your breast reduction surgery again?"
A few eerie laughs left Messina's chest like a creaky rocking chair. One, two, three.
"We got a comedian here," he said to his goons. Then he turned to me with a face like fire. A sweaty, gin-soaked dumpster fire. "We'll see how far those jokes get you, sweetheart."
He started to pace, nibbling his nails and flicking the bitten pieces at me one by one. One stuck to my cheek. I wanted to vomit.
"You see, your boyfriend ain't responding to my messages," Messina said as he walked back and forth across the room. "I tried his office. I tried his secretary. Nothin'. I'm starting to think he don't care about you no more, Red." He turned, beady eyes blatantly perusing my body. "Did he finally wear that pussy out? Looks like it could get a little more use."
Messina approached, his odor of sweat and cheap cigars more pungent with each step. I shook in the chair.
"I could probably find something to work with here," he said as he reached out to toy with a loose lock of my hair. He gave it a playful yank.
"Is that right?" I asked, my voice quavering. I needed to hold my temper. But I wanted him closer. Just a step closer.
"You got a trade in mind, gorgeous?" he asked, fat lips grazing my earlobe.
"Yeah, I got a trade in mind," I whispered, urging him closer. He leaned in. "It's called...GO FUCK YOURSELF!"
I hefted a foot out and hit pay dirt between Messina's stubby legs. He collapsed forward, bloated face a bright red as he clutched my target. Unfortunately, my position in the chair didn't give me much room to gain momentum. Messina, however, had plenty.
"Fuckin' bitch!" he hissed, still hunched over to protect his balls. "Try that again, honey. I dare you."
Then Messina's hand hit my face with a loud smack, hard enough that I saw stars. A trickle of blood slid from a newly raw spot on my cheek: a cut from his massive diamond pinky ring. His hand found my face again and again––across my eye, at the side of my jaw, against the temples, one and two. When he was finished, my head hung limply. I was conscious, but just barely, with one eye already starting to swell shut.
"Get her phone. Take her picture. If he won't answer my calls, maybe he'll answer hers," Messina barked at his underlings, who immediately sprang into action. Still rubbing his balls protectively, he scowled from the doorway. "And you better hope he does, Red. Because if you ain't worth shit to him, you sure as fuck ain't worth shit to me."
~
Time stops working properly when you're locked in a room with no light or windows. It might have been hours before the door finally opened again. It might have been days. I wasn't sure of anything except for the fact that my stomach felt like it was sinking into itself, and I was in and out of consciousness. My head hurt. My ribs hurt. Everything hurt.
The door banged open against the concrete, echoing multiple times inside my aching skull.
"Well, good morning, Sunshine." A splash of cold water to my throbbing face, forced me awake. I blinked open the eye that wasn't still swollen shut.
"Good news, Red," Messina crowed as he and his cronies circled around me. "Lover boy texted back after all." He gave a nasty smile that showed his tobacco-stained teeth. His left front tooth had been capped, with a clear color difference between the fake part and the real. "It'll be there, he said." Messina nodded, satisfied. "It ain't poetry, but I'll take what I can get."
"What'll be there?" I croaked. My throat was dry and parched after going for so long without water. Droplets fell down my face and into my mouth, and I licked eagerly around my lips for more.
"Oh, you're worth a pretty penny after all, Red," Messina said as he cracked his knuckles. Each pop was like a hand grenade in my head. "A cool twenty-five mil." He winked at me. "Think he'd do fifty? I thought about it, but I'm too impatient, you wanna know the truth. Unmarked bills can take a while."
He stopped in front of me and with a fat finger, tipped up my chin so I had to look at him.
"Whaddya think, gorgeous?" he asked with a sinister grin. "You think I could get more?"
"You won't get a fucking penny," I said through my teeth. "He's too smart for you, you fucking overgrown toddler."
