Chapter 51

*Payton*

I am laying there for several hours, at least that is what it seems like but I have no way of knowing the time. All I can go by is the light that comes into the room from the small window over the bed. My stomach is grumbling and my bladder is starting to give me serious discomfort. As hungry and thirsty as I am, I refuse to consume anything Trixie gave me. I’ve read enough thrillers to know all about drugged food.

I go over everything in my head again. Trixie mentioned Dean, she knows him. He must be behind this. But my God, why? He’s a police officer for goodness sake, he knows he can’t do stuff like this and get away with it. It’s not like we are even involved anymore. I mean I’ve only seen him a few times since I returned. Those meetings were a little unsettling but nothing that would warrant this type of behavior. We parted ways after graduation on good terms. I thought we had remained friends. Instead, he is acting more like an obsessed lover.

My mind then shifts to Jake. Where is he right now and what is he doing? Surely he has figured out by now that Trixie took me. I know Roland’s building has security and cameras, so unless she is working with someone else within the company, he will think to look at the videos, right? There will be evidence, Jake will find it but, I pause to look around the room again, how will he know where I am now?

Then a more terrifying thought crosses my mind. Roland. The Devils. What if they are behind this? I sent my mother away and trusted Jake to keep me safe and look at me now! Crap, I should have taken this threat more seriously. What about Melissa? Is she okay? I feel myself racing towards panic mode and have to mentally calm myself down and regulate my breathing.

I hear the key in the door and scramble up again. However, this is a mistake as it puts more pressure on my bladder. It’s Trixie again. She looks at the sandwich and water bottle on top of the bed and snarls, “not up to your standards? Fine, starve.”

She moves to leave when I speak up. “Bathroom. I really need to go. Please, I couldn’t drink any water because my bladder is too full. I’m so thirsty but I couldn’t risk it.” I plead with her partly because it is true and I am also hoping that she will think that if I empty my bladder, I will have room for the water.

Trixie lets out a dramatic sigh, as if this is a great inconvenience to her and moves towards the bed. She doesn’t release my hand from the cuffs but instead removes the cuff that is attached to the bed. Giving me a hard tug, she has me on my feet and my hands cuffed behind my back before I can get the feeling to come back into my now free arm. She pushes me out the door and into the door directly across a dark hallway.

We are standing inside a restroom like you would find in a dorm room. Several sinks on one wall, urinals and stalls on the other, along with a few curtained shower stalls. She opens the first stall and pushes me inside, “leave the door open and don’t try anything stupid,” she orders.

“But..,” I sputter, looking down at my skirt and now torn nylons. It is only then that I realize I am shoeless. “I need my hands free to deal with my clothes.” I point out.

Storming into the stall, she pulls my skirt up and in one swift tug has my nylons and underwear down to my knees. I burn with humiliation as she pushes me backwards onto the toilet.

“Oh, for fuck sakes,” she spits out at me. “Don’t look so terrified, you ain’t got nothing I don’t have. Even though you think yours is special, it’s not.” She has the decency to at least move away from the stall as she continues, “now do your business and fast before we have an audience.”

I didn’t think I would be able to do anything with her so close but my bladder emptied before I could think twice. I’m sitting there physically relieved but in emotional turmoil. I refuse to ask Trixie to clean me up but I can’t do it myself.

Trixie’s shadow takes me out of my thoughts, “stand up,” she demands and I reflectively do as told. I have to use my cuffed hands to push myself up from the toilet and the thought of the germs now on my hands makes me shutter. She hikes up my underwear and tugs down my skirt. Then she rips my nylons off me. “You won’t be needing those and they’ll just get in the way for what comes next,” she says with a smirk.

My heart falls to my feet before I enter panic mode, ‘what comes next’? “Trixie, please,” I beg. “You have to help me. I'll do anything you want. From one woman to another, please help me.” Tears are streaming down my face now.

Trixie lets out a fake sob, then laughs and shoves me toward the door. As we exit, we meet a big scary looking guy. He has on leather chaps over faded jeans, big black boots, his torso has an array of tattoos which are covered only by a leather vest. His eyes are about the only thing you can see through his head of long gray hair and the big bushy gray beard and mustache on his face. He looks shocked for just a millisecond, then his eyes are undressing me and a slimy smirk comes over his face. My skin crawls.

“Well, what do we have here?” he asks, never taking his eyes off me. “Looks like she is all bound up, just the way I like ‘em.” I begin to cry harder and mentally curse myself for it.

Trixie plucks us to one side to move around the guy. “She is already spoken for. Maybe once he is done with her, you can have her,” she offers offhandedly. Then adds, “if she's still breathing. But hey, maybe you don't care about that,” she laughs. Then she shoves me through the door of the room I was previously in. Pushing me onto the bed she uncuffs my hands from behind my back and reattaches the cuff to the bed.

The sobs come out of me now, uncontrollably. I guess the guy answers my question to the involvement of the Devils. I never got a good look at him but I was able to take in the Devils’ patch on his vest. I curl up into the fetal position, as close as I can get to it while restrained. My whole body shakes, each tremor causing pain in my cuffed wrist, as I cry myself into oblivion.