Did he mess with my car?
Poster Boy slaps his hand against the door. “I’m serious, Allie. You can’t leave. The Pres will fucking kill me.”
I think for a moment then I slap his hand away and shove my key in the lock.
If he messed with my car, he wouldn’t be trying so hard to stop me.
“Allie… please…” Poster Boy pleads as I pull open the sliding door and help Levi into the backseat.
Once I have Levi safely buckled in, I yank the door shut and turn to face Poster Boy. “If you don’t want that bike parked behind me wrecked, I suggest you move it.”
Then I shove him out of my way and open my door.
“Fuck,” Poster Boy groans and takes a stumbling step back, looking genuinely distressed as I slide behind the wheel.
Shutting my door, I don’t bother to do my own seatbelt as I jab my key into the ignition.
Through the windshield, I can see Hammy and Steve pacing in front of the garage, looking just as upset as Poster Boy.
“Move the bike!” I yell at them, giving them one last chance to do it.
Realizing I’m not fucking around, Hammy and Steve start jogging for the back of the van.
Twisting the key in the ignition, I try to start it up, but nothing happens…
The stupid thing only clicks.
What the hell?
I try again, twisting as far as the key will go and even push down on the gas. But again, the van only makes a clicking sound.
My heart drops to my stomach and I glance over to Poster Boy.
His head perks up as he notices my attention and a hopeful expression appears on his face.
Confused, and still believing he didn’t mess with the van, I try one last time to start it up.
And it only clicks…
“What the fuck!” I yell and start pounding on the steering wheel in frustration.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
How the fuck are we going to get out of here now? Stupid car.
“Mommy?” Levi squeaks from behind me.
Forcing myself to calm down for his sake, I breathe in heavily through my nose and out my mouth. “It’s okay, honey. I’m sorry. Mommy is mad that something’s wrong with the car.”
“Oh… It’s okay, mommy,” he says so sweetly, my heart twists behind my ribs.
How am I going to get us out of this hell?
Resisting the urge to grab my hair and start ripping my it out, I try one last time to start the van.
When all it does is click again, I tell Levi to, “Sit tight, honey. Mommy’s going to try to see what’s wrong.”
Reaching down, I pull the lever that pops the hood and then push my door open because I honestly don’t know what else to do.
We’re so close… so damn close…
Completely ignoring Poster Boy, I walk past him and head for the front of the van.
But when I reach down to lift the hood, his hands are there, grabbing it before mine can.
“Here, let me get that for you,” Poster Boy says and pushes the hood up.
Hammy and Steve wander up to see what’s going on, but thankfully they keep their distance from me.
I’m so wound up, I’m ready to snap.
Once Poster Boy has the hood secured so it won’t fall down, I lean forward and take a peek at all the parts.
I know absolutely nothing about how cars work, and I don’t even know what I’m trying to accomplish by doing this, but even I can tell there’s a gap where something should be…
“Well shit,” Poster Boy says, his voice on the verge of laughter. “Looks like this thing isn’t going anywhere.”
I shoot him a sharp look. “Why’s that?”
“Your battery is missing, ma’am,” Hammy says from behind me.
God, if I hear that word, ma’am, one more time, I swear…
“What do you mean it’s missing?” I hiss.
Poster Boy looks at me seriously. “Someone took it, Allie.”
Of course… of fucking course they did.
“Was it you?” I glare at him.
He was wiping his hands on his jeans earlier…
Poster Boy throws his hands up as if he knows exactly what I’m thinking and shakes his head. “It wasn’t me, I swear.”
He looks so earnest, I find myself believing him.
And I know if he didn’t take it, he probably doesn’t know where it is…
Without it, Levi and I aren’t getting out of here.
We’re still stuck.
Shaking my head in disbelief, I try to keep a grip on my emotions, but they swell up so strongly I want to burst into tears.
“Aw… ma’am… I’m sorry,” Hammy says like he feels bad for me. “I’d give you a lift, but my bike is the only ride I’ve got.”
Hearing his pity is exactly what I need to keep from completely falling apart.
Twisting around, I give him the nastiest glare I have in me then I stomp back over to the sliding door to get Levi out.
“What’s going on, Mommy?” he asks as I lead him back into the house.
“Sorry, sweetie, we can’t go to the store, the van is broken,” I say and focus on getting his cartoon back on for him, feeling guilty as hell for putting him through my failed escape plan.
I feel even guiltier when he instantly forgives me again.
Poster Boy, Hammy, and Steve file back into the house, but just like they did outside, they keep their distance.
I’m so wound up, so sad, angry, and desperate to get out of here before Coy gets back, I start pacing back and forth.
There has to be a way…
Fuck.
There has to be.
I can’t be here when he gets back. I can’t…
Not after what Poster Boy said.
God, how am I going to face Coy?
Just the thought of it causes terror to claw up my throat and makes me want to go running and screaming for the hills.
But I can’t.
I can’t.
I can’t.
I can’t go anywhere because some dick fucked with my van.
Goddammit.
I know it was one of them.
I know it.
What do I do?
How do I get us out here?
How?
I could call an Uber or something with Levi’s iPad… I know the guys won’t try to physically stop me after what just happened…
Yeah…
Maybe that will work.
But no…
Shit.
They might not touch me, but I’m pretty damn sure they’d touch whatever poor driver showed up.
Shit…
Shit…
Shit!
The walls start to feel like they’re closing on me again and my head is so twisted up, I know something is going to have to happen…
Something is going to have to give.
I can feel their eyes on me and I can hear them whispering.
Their fucking eyes though…
Watching me.
I don’t know how to make it all stop, but I have to do something.
My mind continues to go crazy, trying and failing to figure out something that will work.
Then I hear that word in my ears…
That fucking word.
Ma’am.
“Levi, stay here. I’ll be right back, I left my purse in the car,” I call over my shoulder as I stop pacing and head for the front door.
“Okay, Mommy,” I hear him say behind me, and I know he’ll do what I’ll say because he’s a good boy.