Stolen By The Boss

I shake my head. “I’ve never left New York since I came to America. I didn’t have the best time when I first arrived. I worked sixty hours a week, maybe more, just to make ends meet.”

Dean sets his cutlery down and steeples his fingers over his plate. “Oh, I’m sorry. You seem to have done well for yourself, right?”

I nod. “I do ok.”

Dean studies me for a moment and I push a few meatballs around on my plate. And then the moment vanishes when he changes the subject to why I should go to Miami, one of his favorite places.

After dinner, while I clean up the kitchen, I keep my mind busy drafting a new plan to fly away from here. This time, he won’t catch me. I’ll wait until Dean’s fast asleep before I make my move. Throughout dinner, I was every bit as charming as I was polite. Dean shouldn’t suspect a thing.

Late in the night, when it’s pitch black outside, not even a hint of light from the moon or stars, I retrieve my bag that’s still packed from this afternoon and slip out of my bedroom. I move down the hallway, keeping my feet light on the tiled floor. I’ve learned to be stealthy in my lifetime, and I put every skill I’ve learned to use right now.

I know better than to steal the car again, especially because it will make a lot of noise which I can’t afford to make. I did, however, see a bicycle in the garage that looked to be in good working condition. I’m hoping it is.

Slow and easy, I open the door to the garage, careful not to make a sound. My heart hammers as I try to move like a ninja.

A flashlight flicks on.

“Going somewhere?” Dean asks, standing next to the door.

I’m caught, but refuse to go down without a fight. “I can’t stay here while that fucker is still alive.”

“They grounded all flights. What were you thinking? That you could get to the airport and hitchhike on the runway?”

I raise my chin in defiance. “No, I had a plan.”

He steps closer, his eyes no longer holding the sparkle they held earlier tonight. “It was a stupid plan. I thought we had a deal.”

“Dean, revenge is waiting.”

“I think I remember saying I’d handcuff you if you tried to escape again.”

I laugh at his words. “You can’t handcuff me.”

He leans closer, slapping a cuff onto my wrist and spinning me around so both my hands are behind my back. “Oh, yes, I can.” He cuffs my other wrist and I try to wiggle free to no avail.

“You can’t do this to me,” I shout. I try to pull away from his hold, but he’s too strong for me.

“I just did it.”

“Let me go.”

I’m about to add Dean to the same list Bishop’s on. My dead list. There’s only one name there, Bishop’s, but Dean could very well be next.

“Or what?” There’s almost a hint of laughter in his words.

“You don’t want to know.”

Now he is laughing, and I try not to let the sound anger me more.

“I’m taking you downstairs. You can ride out the rest of the time there, until we can get off this island.”

I spin around to face him, my hands still cuffed behind my back. “You can’t treat me like a prisoner.”

“Sure I can.” He spins me back around. “Now walk.”

He guides me through a door in the garage that leads to the basement. This man really thinks he’s going to get away with this. He’s wrong if he expects a docile prisoner. I struggle against his hold some more, but cannot break free from it.

We take each step carefully, and once we’re at the bottom, I turn to face him. “You can’t keep me locked down here all night.”

“Of course, I can.” He moves close enough, our noses almost touch. “I can do whatever I want.”

“You’re a horrible man.”

This makes him chuckle, and he backs up. “There’s a bed, and a bathroom down here, but no windows. Don’t even think about trying to run away.” He uncuffs me and I charge at him.

I’m like a wild animal out for blood.

I scrape at his face, locking my legs around his waist as I attack him. He is full on ready for me, grabbing me, and tossing me onto the bed. He hovers over me, a thigh on each side of my ribs.

Dean works the handcuffs, trying to place them back onto my wrists. I keep my arms moving, knowing I can’t let him leave me down here chained to the bed.

“Give up,” he says. “You won’t win.”

Maybe not, but neither will he. I stop moving, taking a deep breath. “Dean, let’s talk about things.”

“Too late for that,” he says with a snarl.

“Fine.” I pull away, moving out of Dean’s stronghold on me. “Fine. Ok?” I stand from the bed. “I’m not good at trusting people and I’m scared, ok?”