Page 34 of Jesse

I haven’t talked about my father in years. Hell, I haven’t even seen Johnny since the goddamned funeral. So how the fuck does it happen? That I get kidnapped on the one night I decide to tell a girl these secrets?

“Slap him,” another girl says.

“Why?” a third asks.

“Just… make him wake up already. It’s getting late.”

“What? You got a hot date?” the second voice says.

“Don’t be dumb. I just want to slap him.”

Two separate chuckles at her admission. Both female.

One of them kicks me in the shin and I moan.

“He’s awake. Are you awake?”

Who are these bitches? Who sent them? And why now? After all these years? Was it the auction? And then I remember what I was doing last night. “Emma,” I say, surprised at how weak and faint my voice sounds. “What did you do with Emma?”

Silence from them.

“If you hurt her, I’ll fucking kill you,” I say.

More lingering silence.

My head is still very fuzzy. If I could see, if this hood wasn’t over my head, I’m pretty sure the whole world would be spinning.

I was drugged. Who did that? What happened to Emma? Where am I? And was I really on a boat? Or was that just some leftover feeling from—

Shit.

I know her. It comes back to me in an instant. I know her. I knew it. I fucking knew it.

Emma Dumas was the girl back in Key West.

The hood is ripped off my head and the world comes into a sort of blurry focus.

Three people stand in front of me. All dressed in black, ski-masks over their faces. And even if I didn’t hear them speaking a few minutes ago, I’d know they were female because of their black Catwoman costumes.

Fucking girls.

My eyes narrow down into slits trying to get used to the light. “Where the fuck is Emma?”

They look at each other, but say nothing.

I’m tied to a chair. My legs to the chair legs. My arms twisted behind me at the shoulders. Hands behind my back.

“Who are you?” I ask. “And what the fuck do you want?”

They say nothing.

“You’d better start feeding me answers real fucking fast—”

“You’d better shut up real fucking fast,” the shortest one says. “For once in your life, Jesse Boston, you’re not in charge here. We are.”

“So get the fuck on with it and tell me what’s happening.”

The tallest one walks around me in a circle, face turned towards me, scowling underneath her ski mask. “You don’t remember us, but we remember you.”