SO I ALMOST MARRIED A HIT MAN

By Greg Emerson

thedistresser1963@yahoo.com

CHAPTER FIFTY

"Hello?"

"Hi mom, it's me," I said, dragging out my words and trying to sound fatigued. My voice was hoarse and husky from being gagged virtually all weekend, so I didn't have to fake that part.

"Oh, hi honey," she said. "You sound tired."

"I am, mom. In fact, I'm more than tired. I'm sick. I didn't feel very good last night and I feel worse this morning." I added a cough to the mix. Travis gave me a "thumbs up" sign.

"Ohhh, honey…what about Jeremy's party?"

"Well, that's the thing, mom-I don't think I'm going to be able to make it. I don't want you guys to catch this."

Disappointed, she asked me what my symptoms were, and I responded with a flu-like list.

"Aww," she said. "Well, I suppose you can see your brother another time."

"Yeah. I have his present. I'll drop by when I'm feeling better and give it to you, OK?"

Surprisingly, mom didn't third degree me. I was a good actress; she totally felt bad for me.

It wasn't until after we said our goodbyes and Travis snapped my phone shut that it hit me, how odd it was to be speaking to my own mother in the middle of my kidnapping, and it not be a ransom-related call.

Poor mom had no clue as to the distress this damsel was in.

The reviews of my conversation with mom started flowing from my captors.

"You did good," Travis said.

"Excellent," Brick added.

I sighed. Then I started to tear up again. No one was coming to look for me. Travis had thrown my Facebook friends and e-mail contacts off the track. My spare cell phone was lying under my pillow, useless to me. Now my own mother was satisfied that I was merely at home in bed sick, and nothing more.

There would be no cavalry, no knight in shining armor.

Just me, my betraying boyfriend and his big flunkie.

Whoopee.

The relative quiet in the room was rudely interrupted by an urgent knock on the door that sounded like the police.

But it wasn't the cops (sadly), because a shrill, high-pitched female voice called out, "HOUSEKEEPING!"

Travis reacted swiftly and by instinct, slapping his left hand over my mouth before my lips could even part. I gave a startled, "MMF!" sound when he did it.

He nodded for Brick to answer.

Brick opened the door only enough for him to poke his head through it. I could barely make out a conversation, but I didn't need to hear it to know what was being said. Brick was likely telling the housekeeper that our room didn't require her services at this time.

I watched Brick talk to the woman, my mouth covered and my eyes sad.

I twisted my head to rid my mouth of his hand, but Travis kept his grip fixed on my face.

I glared at him and sighed.

Brick finished with her and shut the door.

Travis kept his hand over my mouth-something else he was getting good at this weekend.

"Didn't you put the 'Do Not Disturb' sign on the doorknob?" Travis asked his flunkie.

Brick only gave a sheepish look; he didn't even have to answer.

Travis sighed. "Do it! Jesus, that could have been disastrous! What if we didn't answer the door right away? These housekeeping people will just key right in if you don't have that sign hanging on the knob!"

His hand was still over my mouth, a fact I tried to point out.

"Heymmm," I said through his hand. "Lemme ohh."

Travis looked at me, then at Brick.

"See where she is now," Travis ordered, referring to my non-rescuer.

I rolled my eyes and sighed.

Brick re-opened the door and poked his head out. He closed it quickly.

"She's three rooms down, getting ready to go in," he reported.

Travis finally took his hand away from my mouth.

I swallowed and frowned.

"I want a shower," I said firmly. "And I want out of this nightgown."

The hot water beaded over my body gloriously. I made the shower as hot as I could stand it and took a long one, even leaning against the back wall of the stall, allowing the spray to hit me directly.

My eyes were closed and I was as relaxed as I'd been since my bath of the day before.

I gradually sank down, until I was in a sitting position on the shower floor, hugging my legs just below the knees. I put my head back and rotated it left to right, slowly.

I then extended my legs, wiggling my toes and running my hand through my wet hair. Finally, I merely sat with my hands to my sides, letting the water hit my torso unabated.

It felt great.

CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE

I dried myself and changed into a pink t-shirt and a pair of gray leggings, thin and cotton and which went down to about two inches above my ankle bone. I wore them when I used to do Yoga, and also when I did exercises at home. I was barefoot, as usual.

We had no hair dryer so I let my auburn locks air dry. They were slightly curly and damp when I emerged from the bathroom-but with a twist that threw Travis for a loop.

I had painted my mouth, liberally. I loved my lipstick and gloss, and had missed them badly. It especially felt good to make my lips supple and shiny this time, because they were chapped and dry from being taped and otherwise gagged all weekend.

Travis had brought my makeup bag along, and so I went to work after my shower-going with a burgundy shade and covering it with clear gloss.

I smirked when he saw what I had done to my mouth.

"You're wearing lipstick," he managed to say.

"Indeed I am."

"Umm…OK. Why?"

I shrugged, giving him a dismissive look. "Why not? Makes me feel better about myself."

I knew what he was thinking: why give myself a lipstick job when I was just going to be gagged again anyway?

But I didn't care; I wanted to wear lipstick-even if it wasn't going to be for an extended period of time.

"Lauren, I-" Travis began.

I held my hand up. "I know. I know what you're thinking. I know you're probably going to gag me again. But can you just let me stay like this for a little while? I won't scream. I won't even talk-that should please you!"

"Lauren, it's not that. It's just that-"

"Oh come on, Travis," I pouted. "Give a girl a break, huh?"

Travis frowned at me.

"LISTEN. It's NOT that. I'd let you wear it without a gag for a little bit, I really would."

Uh-oh. A "but" was coming, and I had no idea how bad of a "but" it was going to be.

Turned out that it was a pretty bad "but."

"Brick and I have to leave for a little while," Travis said, and I felt my blood grow cold and my legs buckle.

"W-what?" I stammered, my mouth instantly dry.

"We need to be in pursuit," Travis said. "It's not enough right now to just stay here and monitor. We have to be more aggressive."

I placed my right hand on the dresser, steadying myself. My left hand went against my forehead and shoved upward, against my hairline.

"Oh God," I said. "No…you can't leave me here alone!"

"Lauren, we have to."

"Take me with you," I said sharply and with hope.

"Out of the question," Travis said.

"Why?" I wailed softly.

"If we took you, it would be with you rolling around on the floor of Brick's van, taped or tied up."

"SO? That's how you brought me here, remember??"

Travis smirked. "True, but that was different. This time, we might be going into dangerous areas. I don't want anything to happen to you."

Oh, so now he was my protector?

I thought of so much, yet I didn't know what to say.

I was barely cognizant of Travis gently forcing me into the chair.

I looked up at both men.

"Please…I don't want to be left here alone. What if you guys…what if something happens to you, and you NEVER come back?"

Neither man gave a reply to that.

"Take me with you," I said, weakly. "Please?"

Travis didn't answer with words. Instead, he responded to my pleas by commencing to tape me to the chair.

I gave him no resistance.

Travis went bonkers with the tape, but he explained why as he worked.

"I'm afraid I'll have to tape you extra securely," he said. "Because you'll be alone and will have no one to keep an eye on you."

I tensed as he worked on me.

"What if no one comes back for me?"

"We have that covered," was all he said. When I pressed him, he wouldn't elaborate.

Tape went around my chest, over and under my boobs. My wrists were taped to the armrests, as usual. He even wrapped tape around my arms just below the elbows, to the armrests. My lap was taped to the chair's seat. He taped my legs above and below my knees, as well as my calves.

My ankles were taped together, then he ran a strip from my ankles to the bottom rung of the heavy chair, pulling my feet back so that only my toes touched the carpet.

All the tape work was thorough and utilized multiple layers, for strength.

When Travis was done taping me, I couldn't budge.

"Christ," I finally said as I tested his work and found it to be exemplary. "I can't move!"

"That's the idea, Lauren."

I looked up at him, eyes looking through tears that were welling up.

"You're despicable," I said, quietly but with conviction. "You're the worst form of human life. You're not a man. You've done more than kidnap me, Travis. You've betrayed me and scarred me for life. Who knows when I might ever trust another man, ever? Maybe I won't even trust a man enough to marry him. Maybe I'll never have a family."

To all that he merely said, "Finished?"

I sneered at him.

"Oh, I'm finished," I said. "I'm finished with YOU."

He poked a rolled up, fresh sock at my lips until I begrudgingly parted them.

He crammed the wadded up sock into my mouth, shoving it all the way in this time. I groaned. I saw how he had taped my body so thoroughly, because I'd be unguarded. I dreaded how he would gag me.

I closed my eyes as Travis worked on my mouth, worked on making me as quiet as possible, as safely as possible.

He tied the thick terry cloth robe belt between my teeth, forcing the sock deeper into my mouth. He knotted the belt behind my neck, nice and snug.

My cheeks bulged over the robe. I blinked, trying not to panic and choke.

Amazingly, he wasn't done.

Duct tape was smoothed over my twice-gagged mouth, smoothed down competently.

I concentrated on breathing, let alone crying out.

CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO

So much for my shiny lips.

When Travis finished with me, I was motionless, except for my head, toes, and fingers. I was gagged as never before.

I whimpered and sagged in the chair, defeated and angry.

The men gathered whatever they needed and prepared to leave me.

Travis gave me one more look as he reached the door.

"We'll be back," he said. "Promise."

I blinked and looked at him, making a very quiet humming sound from the back of my throat.

I doubt he heard it.

The door closed, and with it, I wondered if my chance of surviving this predicament also was being slammed shut.

Well, might as well try to make noise, I thought.

The gag was so thorough and tight that my head pounded, though it didn't hurt-yet.

I took in air-not easy with my chest taped-and let it settle in my lungs for a moment.

I tried a scream, and it was a big, fat joke.

The thin humming sound that was produced probably was inaudible ten feet away, let alone outside the room.

I sobbed.

Travis had gagged me into virtual silence.

 I was as immobile as a tree trunk and as quiet as a pin drop.

For the next two hours-Travis and Brick left me around 10:45 a.m.-all I could do was sit and wait and listen to the sounds of the outside world.

It was Sunday-usually check out day for motel guests. So I heard occasional car doors open and close, some voices, and other rumblings.

I even heard voices-laughing and the like-coming from the room to my left, right next door.

I turned my head in that direction, gazing longingly at the wall. On the other side of that wall was help. There were rescuers behind that wall. They were perhaps 15 feet from me, if you took the walls away.

Help me, I thought in my head. Help me, please.

But they wouldn't help me, couldn't help me. I couldn't make a sound that would come close to their ears.

I thought of mom and Jeremy and my dad and others, all gathering at my parents' house for my brother's birthday party. And everyone thinking I was home in bed, sick.

I sobbed again.

Life went on outside my room. People's Sunday afternoon was carrying on. Folks were checking out and headed home, presumably.

I hanged my head and sighed, defeated and frustrated beyond belief.

If they only knew what was in this room…

It was 12:51-I know because I looked at the clock when I heard it-when I heard a key being inserted into the door of my room.

I stiffened, then I sighed with relief.

Travis and Brick were OK, and they were coming back for me, as promised.

But it wasn't Travis, nor Brick.

It was a man, but neither of those men.

My eyes widened as another bruiser entered the room. He was probably 6'1" or so, and I'd guess 200+ pounds. He was dressed in a Dallas Cowboys football jersey with number 82 on it and jeans and sneakers. He had wavy dark hair and a dark mustache. He was probably 35-ish-cut from the same cloth as Travis and Brick.

Always a big man, I'm dealing with.

My eyes were saucers. My hands instinctively balled into tiny fists.

"MMMMMM," I managed through the layered gag.

"Relax, it's OK," he said, and his voice was surprisingly gentle and calm.

Was he a rescuer???

My heart pounded with the thought that the calvary had arrived, after all.

He gave the room a once-over and approached me, though not all that swiftly. I'd have expected a little more urgency from a rescuer.

That's because he wasn't a rescuer.

He stood over me, inspecting me, hands on his hips.

"MMMMMMM?" I said, growing impatient and uneasy.

He pulled out a cell phone and dialed it.

I sighed and tossed my head back, agitated.

"It's me," he said. "She's OK. She's fine."

I looked at him incredulously.

"MMMMM!"

He listened for a moment, then said, "OK, I'll call you."

Then he snapped his phone shut and slipped it back into his jeans.

CHAPTER FIFTY-THREE

He crouched so that he was eye level with me. In fact, my eyes were slightly above his after he lowered himself.

"Travis sent me," he said, confirming my suspicions at that point.

I just stared at him, still frightened of this strange man. I was completely helpless at the hands of a man I'd never seen before. Not a great feeling for a woman.

"I can't let you go or anything. I can't even take your gag off. But he wanted me to let you know that he's fine and that he's sure he'll be back."

It would have been a very sweet, "Awww" moment, except this man was talking about my kidnapper.

I managed a curt nod.

He looked at me, looked at all the tape.

"Guess he was serious about making sure you stayed put," he said.

I rolled my eyes and nodded.

He stood.

My gaze followed him as he did so.

"Are you OK?" he said, again gently.

Why couldn't he be a GD rescuer?

Other than being bored silly and cramping a bit, I really was OK. And, frankly, the news that Travis had sent someone to check up on me awarded him brownie points, but he was still in the shitter.

So I sighed and nodded. Yes, I was fine.

"Good," he said, and turned to leave.

I didn't want him to go. Isn't that crazy?

"MMMMMMMM!" I hummed, thoroughly muffled.

He turned and looked at me.

I shook my head gently, back and forth, and made a pleading look with my eyes as best as I could.

"MMMM HMMM" I said, which was supposed to be "Don't go."

The poor guy had no clue what I was trying to say.

I just kept shaking my head sadly and making the same humming sounds.

Finally, he caught on.

"You don't want me to go?" he said, sounding both surprised and, well, flattered.

I shook my head more forcefully, trying to indicate that he was correct.

To confirm, he said, "You want me to stay?"

I nodded.

He hadn't counted on this, I don't think.

He took a seat on the edge of the bed closest to me, clasping his hands and dangling his one leg.

He seemed awfully uncomfortable. I'm sure he hadn't signed up for this.

But the only thing worse than being alone and bored senseless is to taste company then have that company leave so soon.

There would be no conversation or anything, but that was fine. I just didn't want to be alone.

He looked at me, then pursed his lips and looked away. He had no clue what to do, not that I could blame him.

It was obvious that I'd be of no help in the small talk category, so he took it upon himself to speak.

"Travis said your name is Lauren?"

I nodded, relieved that he was talking to me.

"He'll be back," the man reiterated.

I nodded.

I took my eyes off him, because I think that was making him even more nervous.

My t-shirt had the logo of a bar in Daytona Beach on it.

"You been to Daytona?"

I nodded, eyes brightening a bit, indicating that he could keep talking to me if he wanted, because I was enjoying it.

"Me too," he said, and he explained when, how often, and the like. He was making small talk. I would nod my head to indicate that I was interested. It was nice.

He looked me and said, "Did he use a whole roll of tape on you?"

I rolled my eyes and nodded, as if to say, "I know, right?"

"I'm not supposed to touch the tape, or the gag," he said.

I nodded, sadly. I looked down, demurely.

He looked at his watch, then he stood.

I made sounds.

"I have to go," he said. "I'm sorry."

I pleaded with my eyes and made sounds.

"Sorry."

I slumped into the chair.

He turned to look at me before leaving.

"Good luck. I'm sure it'll be OK."

I put my head back and closed my eyes.

CHAPTER FIFTY-FOUR

Another 90 minutes, almost, passed after the man left before Travis and Brick returned. Another 90 minutes of boredom, anxiousness, and restlessness.

In fact, I had nodded off and was dozing when the men returned.

I snapped awake when the door shut.

My eyes widened in relief.

"MMMMMMMMMM!" I said, trying to rock in the chair. I barely budged.

"How are you doing?" Travis said.

I pulled at my wrist tape and jutted my jaw forward.

"MMMMMMMMM!"

"I know, I know," he said. "Give me a sec."

I rolled my eyes.

In fact, Travis told Brick to ungag me as Travis went pee.

"You OK?" Brick asked as he started to pick at the tape over my gagged mouth.

I nodded eagerly, desperately wanting the gag off.

Brick was very careful and sweet as he untaped my mouth. I could see the kiss outline of my lipsticked lips on the inside of the tape as it came away from my face.

It felt good to feel air hit my lips.

Brick reached behind my head and unknotted the terry cloth belt, pulling it away from my mouth.

"NNNGGGH!!" I said, trying to eject the sock, but it was too damn big.

"Let me help you," Brick said, and he jiggled the sock back and forth as I tried to open as wide as possible.

Finally the huge wad of sock popped out of my mouth.

I drank in air, throwing my head back, coughing, and trying to make saliva.

Brick, in a flash, was holding bottled water to my lips. Bless him.

I drank and dribbled it.

"Thanks," I breathed, my first word in hours.

I looked at him and said in a croaky, tired voice, "How did you guys make out?"

He smirked at me. "You're worried about US?"

I grinned weakly. "Hey, you guys are my meal ticket, believe it or not," I said. "If anything happens to you, I'm fucked."

My saying the "f" word took Brick aback.

I smirked again. "I can swear like a trucker," I said. "If you guys would let me talk for longer than five minutes at a time, you'd find that out."

Brick couldn't help but chuckle at that remark.

Travis emerged from the bathroom.

"How is she?" he said.

"You don't have to talk like I'm not in the room," I said, before Brick could answer.

Travis sniffled a laugh.

"I'm serious. I'm right here, Travis," I said.

"Fine," he said, then turning to me in an exaggerated manner, he said, "So…how ARE you, Miss Lauren?"

"I've been better," I said. "I've been tons better."

I was also famished. With the men having returned, I could now think about my stomach, and how I hadn't eaten since morning. It was now pushing 4:00.

"When's dinner?" I said.

Travis said that he and Brick ate a couple hours ago, but that he'd send Brick out to fetch me something. How nice of him.

They showed me the menu of a nearby grill and I selected a corned beef sandwich and some French fries. I started salivating at the thought of food.

Brick bade us farewell and set out.

I looked at Travis as soon as the door was shut, and opened my mouth.

"Please don't gag me-at least not until after dinner…OK?"

Travis approached me.

"Please?" I said, sounding as pitiful as possible.

"I wasn't going to gag you before dinner," he said.

I sighed in relief.

"Then can we have a conversation?" I asked.

"I'm tired," Travis said, stretching before sitting across from me.

I frowned. "Oh, come on, Travis. Give a girl a break. Just talk to me for a few minutes, until Brick gets back with the food.

"You used to love talking to me."

He looked at me, disinterested.

"You keep saying that," he said.

I would have stomped my foot for emphasis, but my ankles were still attached to the bottom rung, so I couldn't.

"Because it's true!" I said, and my voice raised slightly, which Travis quickly addressed.

"SHHHH," he said, frowning.

"At least relax some of this tape. My God, Travis, I thought I was only supposed to be like this when you guys were gone."

He looked at me lazily, then moved toward me.