The Woman in the Trunk

By the time we made it to the hotel, it was just about dinner time. My stomach was grumbling. My eyes were scratchy. And I was sick of driving.

The motel was every bit as rundown and seedy as Emilio had warned—a simple L-shaped structure that had a total of ten rooms, all of which had their own parking spaces right out front of the doors.

I pulled up to the one at the corner of the L, thankful for the shadows the placement allowed as I hopped out to make sure the door was open first, grabbing the comforter off the bed, going back to the trunk, tossing it over the girl, then hefting her into my arms and rushing inside, kicking the door closed.

"Alright," I started when we were inside, placing the girl on the end of the bed. "Let's talk about this," I said, squatting down in front of her, working to undo her ankles. "I'm not going to hurt you," I told her, wincing at the black eye she had forming from her collision with the wall. "My job is to pick you up, bring you with me, and hold onto you. Not to abuse you in anyway. So this whole thing is going to be a lot easier if you stop trying to claw at me."

To that, I got a pretty impressive eye roll, given the situation.

"Yeah, can't imagine that sounds all that assuring, kid," I agreed, sighing, grabbing the folding chair from the other side of the room, dragging it between her position and the door, then dropping down on it. "Obviously, this has nothing to do with you. Your father fucked up. And, unfortunately, you got caught in the middle. All we can both hope for right now is that your father steps up, so we can get you back to your life. Hopefully back to your school before the new semester starts."

To that, her brows drew together slightly, like something I said didn't make much sense. "I know, that's a few weeks away still. And it would not be something either of us wants, to have it last that long. But this all comes down to your dad. Now, we won't be staying here long. We needed a place to stop, use the bathroom, get some food. And then we will be back on the road. Once we get where we're going, I'm hoping I won't need to keep you bound and gagged anymore. So there is that to look forward to. Now, do you need to use the bathroom?" I asked, jerking my chin toward the space that was nothing more than awful dark blue tile and grout that looked like it hadn't seen a scrubbing since the eighties.

To that, I got a nod.

"Alright," I agreed, getting up, glancing inside, seeing a window too small to climb out of. "I'm not taking your cuffs off," I told her, shrugging. "You're just going to need to figure it out," I added, waving an arm toward the door.

Obediently, she stood, making her way toward the bathroom, giving me small eyes before moving inside, closing the door with her foot.

I waited, hearing the flush, the water in the sink. I wasn't trying to invade some sixteen or seventeen-year-old girl's privacy.

But then she did it.

Pulled the tape off.

Found a way to get the scarf untied.

Sucked in a breath.

And screamed.

"Goddamnit," I growled, finding the door locked, needing to kick it in, rushing inside, clamping my hand over her mouth. "Seriously?" I asked as she shot daggers up at me. "I get it's your job to make this difficult for me. But now it's my job to make that harder for you," I told her, dragging her back into the main area, grabbing more duct tape with my free hand, cutting a piece off with my teeth, then releasing her mouth just long enough to slap it on. "Now you are going to have sore shoulders," I told her, uncuffing her bound wrists, dragging each arm behind her back, securing them there instead. Satisfied with that, I grabbed her ankles, tying them to the slats under the mattress, then made my way to the bathroom for a break.

When I came back out, she was heaving hard, clearly having spent the couple moments testing the strength of the bed frame. For such a shitty place, the construction proved solid.

With that, I went to my phone, ordering delivery, going outside to wait for it.

When I came back in and set the cardboard box on the dresser, the girl's eyes followed my every move as I took out containers, pulled off tops, filled the room with the scents of baked macaroni and eggplant parm.

"What do you say, hellcat? Want to call a truce for long enough to eat a meal? I can take that tape off if you agree not to scream."