SO I ALMOST MARRIED A HIT MAN
By Greg Emerson
thedistresser1963@yahoo.com
CHAPTER SEVENTY
Brick arrived about 15 minutes later. It was just about 1:00 a.m. I was tired, hungry, pissed off, irritated. Shall I go on?
Seriously, these men were wearing me down. Not in terms of breaking my spirit-just in terms of how mentally exhausted they could make a woman.
I sighed and watched the men have their little reunion.
My hair was still disheveled and I hadn't eaten in ages. I had spent some very physically exhausting minutes moving myself, in the damn chair, near the door-only to have Travis return and drag me back to square one.
All this, and now I had to watch mute as the men embraced and poked fun at each other.
Brick looked at me and approached.
My eyes were slits and I was beyond exhausted, slumped in the chair, my mouth taped shut
"Hey," he said. "You OK?"
I gave no response, other than to sigh softly and look away.
Travis said, "She made it almost to the door when you were gone. Gotta admire her effort."
I looked at Travis and did my best to sneer.
Brick said, "Yeah, well, I think I know a way she can help us beyond hooking us up with Sasha."
That perked me up a bit.
Brick put forth the idea he and I cooked up in our haste-the one where I try to use my feminine wiles on Morris Dowd.
Travis, as he listened, had a slightly different countenance about him. It was like he was interested, but not thrilled that the idea had been born with him not present. I picked up on it relatively quickly.
"So? Is that feasible?" Brick said when he was done outlining the plan.
As the plan was being presented, I felt like I was at a tennis match-my eyes darting from one man to the other.
Travis looked at me. I tilted my head and gave a questioning look.
He said, dubiously, "You want to risk her flight?"
I rolled my eyes and jutted my jaw out, wanting to speak.
"HMMMMM!!! HMMM!"
Brick said, "Let her talk for a little bit. She can fill in the gaps."
Travis stopped and looked at Brick.
"Wait a minute. You let her talk while I was gone?" Travis said, as if Brick had killed puppies.
Brick said, "Not for long. She obeyed. Didn't scream or fuss."
Again, talking about me as if I was an infant-or not in the room.
Travis frowned and picked at my tape gag, finding an edge and beginning to unpeel it.
When it was off, I worked my jaws and said, "I really shouldn't help you guys at all. I only considered it because it might-MIGHT-move things along quicker and that way, we can be out of each other's lives as soon as humanly possible."
Travis said, "So you guys formed an alliance while I was gone?"
Then it occurred to me. Travis was more interested in the fact that Brick and I commiserated, as opposed to the benefits and drawbacks of the plan!
CHAPTER SEVENTY-ONE
That bastard had the audacity to show jealousy? After betraying me as he did?
"I can't believe you," I said, scowling. You're jealous-of Brick and me."
Brick, as in thick as, looked confused, as if he had failed to put two and two together.
He said, "Jealous?? Really? What's there to be jealous about?"
I said, "Nothing, Brick! But that's irrelevant."
Travis said, "I am NOT jealous."
I countered, "Then why are you more concerned about whether Brick let me talk, or that we teamed up while you were gone, as opposed to the plan itself-which is pretty damn clever, if I do say so myself."
Travis said, "I am NOT jealous! Jesus, you're delusional!"
Brick said, trying to mediate, "I don't think he's jealous, Lauren. There's nothing to be jealous about."
Gawd!
I counted to 10 and said, "I KNOW there's nothing to be jealous about, Brick! That's not the point! What IS the point is that this man has serious control issues, as I'm beginning to see. Don't you find it odd that he keeps bringing the topic of the conversation to the fact that-MMFF!"
Travis slapped his hand over my mouth, cutting me off in mid-sentence.
Then he turned to Brick and said, "I'm not jealous. I'm just kind of taken aback that you would have deliberately broken a rule and removed her gag while I was away."
I was getting my second wind.
Energetically, I tossed my head side-to-side, trying to extricate his strong hand from my mouth.
No go.
"NNngggh! Unnhggh!" I said through Travis's hand.
Brick said, "She can be very persuasive-which is a good thing, because I think she can do this. I think she can get to Dowd and give us an advantage."
I stopped struggling and looked up at the two men, Travis's hand still firmly clamped over my mouth.
Travis said, "She might flee."
What about, "She could get hurt" or "I don't want to put her in any dangerous situations."
No-it was far less about me possibly getting hurt and far more about why Brick took my gag off.
Again, so much for chivalry.
"I don't think she'll try to run away," Brick said. "First of all, we'd catch her, and she knows it," he added, looking squarely at me. I gave a slight nod of agreement, in spite of myself.
"Second, she wants this to be over with. You heard her. She sees this as a shortcut. Am I right, Lauren?"
I felt foolish sitting there with Travis's hand over my mouth like I was some petulant child. After Brick addressed his words to me, I gave one more jerk of my head, and this time Travis let my mouth go.
"He's right, Travis," I said after licking my poor lips. "I have every incentive to make you guys go away."
I looked at Brick.
"And if there's anything to be jealous about, Travis, it's how Brick has at least shown some sort of kindness. Which is more than I can say for YOU-and you're supposed to be my boyfriend! What a crock THAT is!"
There was silence in the room, then Travis spoke up.
"Oh, I forgot to tell you. Your mother called tonight. Checking up on you., I would imagine."
I gasped. Mom!
"Oh Christ," I groaned. "She's probably worried sick! You have to let me call her, Travis!"
CHAPTER SEVENTY-TWO
Travis didn't resist; he knew the smart move was to let me call my mom, or else she'd send the calvary and even though no one had any idea where I was, why have a team of people sniffing around?
Travis dialed and held the phone near my ear. It was late-about 1:30 in the morning-but I knew what I was going to say to cover for that.
When mom answered, I promptly sounded groggy and very tired.
"Mom, I'm so sorry...I slept straight through," I said after she gave an urgent, worried-sounding, "Hello...Lauren?"
"Thank God you're OK," mom said-and she didn't sound like she had slept a wink. Probably waiting to hear from me, the poor thing.
"I'm so sorry...how was Jeremy's party?"
She gave me a capsule, but even that expended about two minutes. Travis sighed and shifted, switching phone hands. I looked up at him and blew him a kiss dripping with sarcasm.
"I'm sorry again, mom. Sorry you were worried."
She accepted my apology and soon we said goodbye, but not without me promising to call her tomorrow before evening.
Travis flipped my phone shut.
"Thank you," I said softly.
"If you're going to help us, you best get some sleep," he said, actually showing me some concern for a change.
"Is that code for, 'I can sleep without being restrained?'" I asked, brimming with hope.
Those hopes were quickly dashed.
"No," Travis said flatly. "But I'll make you as comfortable as possible."
Travis let me pee, wash my face, brush my teeth, and walk around the room for a couple minutes-supervised, of course. Then he ordered me to the bed, and told me to cross my wrists in front of me.
I sighed as I complied.
Looking up at him, I said, "Do you REALLY think I'll run away in the middle of the night?"
Travis smirked and said, "All I know is that by doing this, I KNOW you won't run away in the middle of the night."
Touche.
Travis tied my wrists instead of taping them. He used one of my silk scarves that he brought along from my house. The silk felt better against my skin than the duct tape.
He used another scarf on my ankles, and this time he didn't attach my wrists to my ankles. Thank God for small favors.
"We'll hear it if you try to hop away," he said, explaining his new relaxed stance on my bondage.
"Any last words?" Travis said, reaching for the duct tape. He was about to gag me for the billionth time.
"Help?" I said in a small voice.
He chuckled, and pressed tape over my mouth firmly-two strips' worth.
I sighed and settled in bed. Brick was again my bed partner, and again he situated himself well on the other side.
The men took turns in the bathroom cleaning up, making sure that one of them was always guarding me. I don't know what they thought I could do bound hand and foot and gagged, but there you have it.
Why was I helping these guys? Even after agreeing to do so, my situation wasn't really changed. I was still their prisoner.
The answer to my question was relatively easy, of course.
By my agreeing to help them, they HAD to eventually free me so I could go out in public on their behalf.
The thought of freedom-of being able to walk, talk, and function as a whole person again-that was what soothed me and eased my mind enough to allow sleep to overtake me.
CHAPTER SEVENTY-THREE
I slept well, stirring only a few times but then quickly going back to sleep. Sheer exhaustion combined with the notion that my time spent bound and gagged was perhaps nearing its end, meant that my sleep was more restful than the two nights previous.
Travis was up and padding around just past 6:00. I heard him make coffee in the small appliance provided in the room. I dozed in and out for about 30 minutes.
Brick was snoring loudly beside me.
After my eyes adjusted to the low light of the room-sunlight beginning to filter in through the curtains-I tried to get Travis's attention. He was at the round table, reading the morning paper-it probably left outside our room as a courtesy of the concierge.
"Mmmmmmmm," I said through the tape.
He glanced toward me, sipping coffee.
"Oh-you're awake?"
I scooched myself to a sitting position and flipped my head to work the hair from my eyes. I nodded and said, "Mmmm-hmmm."
"Want some coffee?"
I nodded eagerly. "Mmmm-hmmm."
He poured me a cup and set it on the table. Then he came toward me and began untying me.
Sitting on the bed, he worked at my ankles as he spoke.
"We'll have you call in sick first, OK?"
I nodded.
Travis then untied my wrists. I rubbed them and looked at him.
"Then we'll go over what you need to do when it comes to Dowd and to Sasha," he said, referring to my duties for the day.
I took it upon myself to ungag my mouth.
I hated the sticky residue left by the tape. My mouth had been taped more than any other gag over the past two-plus days-which meant that the residue would build up. Every time I was allowed to pee and wash up, I would be sure to use a washcloth on the corners of my mouth, where the residue gathered most.
I stirred some sugar into my coffee as I sat down at the table.
"How did you sleep?" I said huskily, making conversation, whether Travis wanted it or not.
"Alright," he said dully. "You?"
Hey-a conversation was brewing!
It might not seem like much-two people asking how the other slept-but since Friday at 5:00, just before Travis drugged me, I had had precious few conversations. That's over 84 hours of nothing but brief dialogues that were spread very far apart. Mostly, I was forced to communicate with grunts and body language. And when I did have actual conversations, most of those were forcefully ended, with Travis shoving something into my mouth, covering it, and/or taping my lips shut.
He had been very rude since the home invasion and my kidnapping.
So when this tiny conversation was in its embryonic stage, I did what I could to see it to full term.
"It was more restful than last night," I said softly. "I think it's because today I'll actually get to help you guys-get to do something instead of sit in a chair gagged all day."
He looked at me.
"It has been a long weekend for you, I'll admit it," Travis said, and I was stunned at his candor.
"You didn't have to make it so long for me," I said, making my point but keeping my voice even and low.
"We can agree to disagree about that," Travis said.
My, what a stubborn man he was!
I dropped the subject, but quickly brought up another. I wanted to keep him talking.
"May I ask a question?"
Travis muttered something resembling yes.
CHAPTER SEVENTY-FOUR
I looked him square in the eye.
"You planned all this from the moment you asked me for coffee that first night?"
I had to know.
Travis ran his finger along the rim of his coffee cup and took a moment before he said, "Pretty much…yeah."
I sagged, but it wasn't a total surprise.
"How long was it supposed to take?" I asked.
He looked at me, confused.
"What do you mean?
"I mean," I said, sipping coffee, "how long were we supposed to date before you put this plan into motion?"
He nodded in understanding and said, "No real time table. I was given as long as I needed to complete the job, though I was paid half up front and the other half upon completion."
Brick stirred. I looked at him and resumed my discussion with Travis.
"How much?"
He smirked at me. "You mean, how much was I paid?"
I nodded firmly.
He shook his head. "I'm not going to tell you that, Lauren."
"Why not?"
"Because it's not relevant. You don't need to know that."
I frowned. "But maybe I WANT to know that, whether I 'need' to or not."
"Drop it. I'm not telling you."
I sighed. "So from the moment you asked me for coffee, the game plan was to drug me, tape me up, and take over my house?"
"I was 'on the clock,' so to speak, at that point," Travis said. "So, yes, I guess it was."
I felt very sad. And very used. And very angry.
"You never had any interest in me," I sad solemnly.
"That's not true, Lauren."
I shot him a dirty look and said sharply, "The fuck it isn't! You said it yourself: you dated me because of where my house was located. You didn't want a relationship-at least not one that you couldn't get out of. All that dating stuff was just pretending to like me?"
Travis was getting uncomfortable with this conversation.
"I TOLD you. I surprised myself with how much I really did care about you, Lauren."
"Lucky me," I said dryly.
"You know what I mean. I had a hard time keeping my emotions in check."
I waved my hand.
"You know what? Forget about it. All this conversation is doing is making me angry and irritated."
"See? Talking is overrated," Travis said, and I think I wanted to belt him across the mouth at that point. Instead, I rolled my eyes and sipped coffee.
Brick joined us after peeing, washing up, and peering through the curtains, checking for God knows what.
The three of us sat at the table, drinking coffee and making small talk.
It was nice.
"I should probably call work," I said.
Travis agreed, and he actually let me handle my own phone for a change. It felt weird, actually.
I made the call without incident. Travis kept an eye on me, of course, but I was a good girl and played my role to the "t".
It was now about 7:15 a.m.