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“Won’t she be sorry? Yes, yes, she will. Everything will be okay now. Yes, yes.”
Oh, good Goddess. Things were worse than she thought. Being held captive by a criminal was completely different from being held captive by a looney tune.
When Amata got close to the entry to the last door on the right, the gun was shoved between her shoulders. She tripped, barely catching herself before she planted face-first on the filthy floor.
A dim light popped on. The only thing in the room besides a couple of cheap folding tables was a huge, rusty steel cage with its door wide open.
Oh, hell no. She wasn’t going in there. She stopped and dug in. “I’m not going in there.” She’d never get out again.
“Good. Stay still.” The hooded figure stood in front of her, the gun not moving an inch, while the kidnapper’s free gloved hand patted and squeezed her breasts.
Amata tried to twist away, but the captor moved on and searched her pants pockets.
Pulling out her cell phone, they tossed it on one of the rickety tables. Her kidnapper squeezed her ass and then moved down her leg. Then they stood back and pointed the gun between her eyes.
“Take your shoes off.”
“What?” She couldn’t have heard right. “Why do you want my shoes off?”
Her captor stomped a foot. “I’m in charge here, not you. Do what you’re told!”
Amata frantically looked around her. “I don’t think…”
The resounding bang of the gun going off made her jump.
“I said take your shoes off, bitch. Or the next one takes your foot off. Your choice, barefoot or no foot.” A crazy snicker. Now the gun pointed at her right foot.
Well, when it was put that way. Amata bit her bottom lip as she toed off her laceless, slip-on shoes. She wasn’t wearing any socks, and the concrete floor had a slimy feel that crept between her toes.
“Get in the cage.”
Shoulders slumped, Amata stepped into the rounded cage. Stupid thing resembled some kind of birdcage instead of a regular square prison. She turned around just as a hardened steel padlock locked her in.
Amata tilted her chin up. “Okay, you’ve got me. Now what?” She tried to twist her wrists loose from the handcuffs behind her. No such luck. They were as tight as ever.
Her captor put the gun down on one table and pushed the hood back.
Amata’s eyes widened as she took in her kidnapper’s face. “Marjoy? What in the world…”
Marjoy had been a staple figure around the industry for years. But lately, her work had been unreliable and sporadic. Which included fits of uncontrolled anger and shouting. It got so bad there’d been several complaints about her from others on the set.
Amata had no choice but to replace her in the middle of production.
“You ruined my life!” Her middle-aged Asian-American features twisted into something ugly as spittle flew. “After you demoted me, nobody took me seriously. Do you know how hard it is for somebody my age to work their way up again? Especially in the movie business? They sliced my pay in half! I lost my house, my car, and my partner.” Fat tears swam in her dark brown eyes. “The two of us had been together for five glorious years and planned on getting married.” She picked up a piece of the crumbling concrete from the floor and threw it at her captive.
Amata flinched as the missile bounced off the bars and harmlessly landed outside the cage.
“But with everything going bad, she left me! She won’t even take my phone calls.” Grabbing the rusted bars of the cage, Marjoy rattled it. “And it’s all your fault!” One last shove and she stalked away. Pacing back and forth, she smacked her fists against her temples, muttering incomprehensible words.
Amata narrowed her eyes. The woman had gotten worse. Over the centuries, she’d witnessed several humans spiral into madness, but never this quickly. Not too long ago, Queen Inanna’s family worked on the global mind-wipe project to erase the Akurn invasion from humanity’s collective memory. Could that have caused damage to some more than others? It might explain what happened to Marjoy. She glanced around the cage to see if there was anything she could use to escape. Nothing but loose dirt on the grimy concrete floor. She backed up and grabbed one bar to see how steady it was, keeping an eye on Marjoy pacing. Shit. Solid as a rock.
Marjoy stopped pacing. “Yes, yes. That’s what I’ve got to do.” She came back to the cage, fishing for something in her pants pocket. Coming up with a set of keys, she rattled them. “Turn around. I’ve got to take your handcuffs off.”
Amata’s heart raced. With her hands free, she stood a better chance of escaping. She didn’t hesitate to turn around and so the other woman could unlock her.
A quick click and the handcuffs fell to the floor with a solid clink.
Stepping away, she tuned and faced the woman, rubbing her sore wrists. The skin was red, but not heavily bruised.
