A deal

A deal
Bridgette opened her eyes to a world of black. A pulsating ache along her shoulders woke her. She was bound by her slender wrists and angles of her ankles. Wherever she was she was reminded that it was not by her choice. Then as the veil lifted over her memory, Bridgette’s mind cleared. Jackson.
She felt helpless. An unusual feeling for someone who’d been in control of the entirety of her life since her antebellum upbringing. If she couldn’t see the world around her, if she couldn’t speak, the her magic was useless. She even tried to stretch her legs, but the binding held them steadfast against her arms. She was truly hogtied
Jackson was a dead man.
She closed her eyes and concentrated. Bridgette could feel Lenora, not far, but not close either. She could feel the driver, and his two friends and she could feel…
Him?
“Holy shit,” the driver bellowed before Bridgette felt the vehicle lurch suddenly. She tumbled and slammed into the side of the van as it rammed into something. Bridgette was flung forward and unable to control her momentum as she crashed into the interior wall. She hit the vehicle’s siding once more before the sound of a horn startled her. It should have been expected. But as she was thrown in one direction and then another, the shock disheveled her mind.
Bridgette tried to wriggle free as voices sounded all around her. The vehicle was stopped. The commotion outside sporadic.
“Get his fucking head off the horn and see if anybody else is in there.” The voice was angrier than remorseful at what Bridgette assumed was a dead driver. “Then catch up to me.”
“How the hell am I supposed to follow you in the damn dark?”
“See if there’s a flashlight in the van,” the first man ordered more than replying. His voice faded and trailed as it was obvious he was moving away from the vehicle. Bridgette heard the second man walk toward the van and open a door. The horn ceased and then she heard him click his teeth.
“Damn, he’s dead.”
The door closed and she heard footsteps circle around to the back of the van. The doors were wrenched open. Bridgette felt the swelling pain. But she remained silent. Hoping whoever this was would walk off without noticing her. Then she felt him prod the blanket. “And what do we have here?”
Strong hands wrapped around her arms and feet and dragged her toward the rear. Rough hands snatched the hood off of her head. Then he removed the rag over her eyes.
“Oh yeah, one of them witch bitches.” He snorted. Looked Bridgette over, deliberately licking his lips. He pulled her from the van and dropped her to the ground. The man reached into the van and grabbed the hood that had been over her head. “Need to hide Medusa,” he chided and started to recover her with the hood. That’s when Bridgette heard the cock of a shotgun.
“If you move, you die,”
Bridgette recognized the voice, but her euphoria was short lived when even she heard the tremble in the woman’s voice.
The man wasted no time in prodding the aggressor. “I can feel the barrel of that gun shaking in your sweet little hands baby. That tells me either the gun is too heavy, you’re too tired, or you ain’t never shot nobody before. And I’m bettin’ all the above.”
He tried to swing around, but the barrel caught him under the chin. He fell back into the van, but managed to kick at the woman with the gun.
She tumbled to the ground, weighed down by all the guns strapped to her small frame. The pair began to fight while Bridgette evaluated the binding on her arms and feet. She used her magic, and the ropes unfurled from around her ankles in time to kick the man’s legs out from under him.
He fell face first into the soft earth and scowled at Bridgette who pierced his soul with her hypnotic eyes. His mouth fell open as he stood straight and walked toward the woman.
She stumbled backward and aimed the gun at him, but the hammer fell on an empty chamber.
“I’m glad that wasn’t loaded,” he said, holding out his hand. The woman looked at him, and then took a quick glance at Bridgette before she took his hand.
“There we go,” he said as he helped her to her feet and gestured to the van. “After you,” he said sweetly.
“You first,” the woman replied. He nodded and led the way back. As the woman stepped into the light, Bridgette recognized the reporter from the bar. The reporter reached into her pocket and pulled out two shells that she reloaded into the gun.
“How did you escape?”
Willow shrugged. “If I tell you I have to kill you,”
The man began to laugh.
“What’s with him?” Willow watched the man. Her arms ached from the weight of the weapon and the lack of food over the last few days. She was used to handling a weapon, and was as nearly as confident in her shooting skills as she was in bed. But this guy had gone from thug to a gentle flower in a blink.
“He’s under my spell,” Bridgette said as she blew Willow a kiss. Willow felt her legs give way, and her core be smolder with lust. A faint dusting of mist encircled her.
“And now, so are you,” Bridgette exclaimed.

Cutter hid behind a tree as the beam from Ellis’ flashlight nearly landed on Cutter’s shoe. The man was on the other side of the tree that Cutter deftly kept between them as he breathed calmly through his nose. He had crept around the trunk as Ellis walked past sweeping the beam left to right and back again.
Cutter watched him walk deeper into the trees before he began to run back the other way.
Then he heard a shotgun blast.
“Shit,” he ducked behind a different tree as the flashlight beam swung back around. He heard the man run through the trees, and when he got close, Cutter ran from behind launching himself straight into the man.
Ellis hollered as he hit the ground, and Cutter stomped on his midsection, before he kicked the man’s face. He took one more kick at him before knocking the gun away. Then he raced toward the lights showing on the van ahead of him.
Next to the van was the silhouette of an attractive brunette standing statue-like while a second woman stretched her lithe frame. Cutter cussed under his breath.
“Damn voodoo bitch.”
“I heard that,” she said.
Cutter looked around, and she spoke again as if reading his mind.
“I’m your best option, so come on out ‘chere and let’s talk this over.”
“You not gonna put no spell on me right?” Cutter called out through the trees. Then a cold and metallic steel touched his left ear.
“Just be good and quiet,” Ellis ordered. “Now come on.”
He led the way to the truck, pausing before he got too close. “I know what you can do,” he yelled. “And unless you don’t ever want to see your sister again, you’ll do exactly as I say,”
Bridgette’s laugh rolled around them.
“I say something funny?” Ellis asked.
“If you and your friends tied up my sister, you the one in trouble ‘chere. Now come closer so we can talk.”
“No fucking way. I’m staying as far from you as possible.”
“Then you should’ve moved back some ‘chere,”
Both men felt her fragrance grace their noses. They walked in unison toward her and stopped alongside Willow.
“Now normally, I would fuck you all, but I need you to save my sister before she goes crazy. So, I’m gonna let you all free but you’ll still want to help me.”
She shut off her pheromones and the trio looked at each other confused.
“Now, let’s head back to my home,” Bridgette said.
“No, I have to get you to the Gastineau’s or it will be my ass,” Ellis said. He started to raise his gun when Cutter punched him in the face.
“Nice punch,” Bridgette laughed as Ellis crumbled to the ground. Cutter picked up the gun and aimed it at her.
“No more voodoo shit bitch,” He said.
“Scout’s honor,” she replied.
“Woman, you wasn’t no scout.”
“But I’ve fucked plenty.” She winked at him and bit her lip. T”hat counts doesn’t it?”
Willow’s eyes went from one to the other. Her face scrunched as if she were going to sneeze. “I’m so confused.”
“Nothing to be confused about miss. I’m Cutter Jones and this…”
“Cutter,” she said giving him a quick hug. “Swell sent me to find you. She says for you to go get her truck and come rescue her and Junior.”
“Sounds like a plan to me.”
“But you are supposed to help me find my sister,” Bridgette said.
Cutter shook his head. “Naw, first we save Junior and Swell. Then we rescue your dear sweet sexy ass sister.”
“That was one hell of a description,” Willow replied.
“Damn voodoo shit she do.”
“Well, you go your way,” Bridgette replied. “I’ll go mine and find Lenora.”
Cutter raised the gun once more. “Nope. We do our thing first, then we help you. I want you in my sight.”
“Whatever you say ‘chere,” she said shooting them both a seductive wink.
Cutter may not live through the night.