This Again
"Wait up!" A man called out just as I was about to duck back into Lombardi's after taking out the trash. I paused, turning to face him. He was out of place here, dressed far too finely for the alley behind a restaurant, and definitely not here to comb through the dumpsters. Could he be a junkie, or worse?
As he reached for my arm, instinct kicked in, and I yanked it back sharply. "Who are you?" I demanded, my tone icy.
"Jasper told me about you! You're Alex Todd, right? The owner of Lombardi's?" the man said, trying to sound friendly and familiar. Why would Jasper tell anyone about me? He was notoriously possessive; sharing information with a stranger didn't add up—it was a clear lie. "Can you help me over there? It's just really quick."
Suspicious but intrigued, I let him guide me across the street, my curiosity piqued about what this could possibly be about. If I wasn't back within a minute, Jasper would come looking. Besides, I always carried a GPS tracker when I was out, so there wasn't much risk in following this well-dressed stranger.
"What's wrong?" I asked, shaking off his grip once we were in a dimly lit alleyway. "What's your relationship to Jasper?"
"That's not a question I'd expect from you. Especially since we were told that he's the one shagging you," the man chuckled, his words slicing through the night air as we stopped under a flickering street light.
Two figures emerged from the shadows, and I recognized them instantly—the same fools who had tried to extort me behind Lombardi's a few days ago. I was utterly tired of these impromptu reunions. "Oh look! The slut's here!" the taller one sneered.
"What's this about now?" I sighed, exasperated. Hadn't they learned their lesson the first time?
"Thought we'd have a little chat again," the shorter one smiled, his tone menacing. "About you and Jasper's funny business."
"Well, Jasper's business isn't mine," I raised an eyebrow, trying to maintain a facade of indifference.
"Yeah but you're his special little friend, right?" the tall one prodded, a mocking tone in his voice.
"Idiots," I couldn't help but scoff at their attempt to intimidate me.
"Ha, and you're so smart for coming out here on your own?" the short one laughed, his remark dripping with sarcasm.
The chilly evening air buzzed with tension as I faced the two men who seemed intent on ruining what had been a tolerable night. The taunts thrown at me were juvenile, reminiscent of high school bullies with nothing better to do. Despite their size and obvious confidence, there was a distinct air of desperation about them—desperate people tend to make mistakes.
As the taller one jeered, a spark of irritation flared within me. There's an old saying in boxing that whoever strikes first often has the upper hand, and in that moment, I decided to test that theory.
Without another word, I lunged forward, channeling all my pent-up frustration into a single, well-aimed headbutt to his stomach. The impact was immediate and satisfying; his breath whooshed out, and his eyes widened in shock as he toppled backward like a felled tree.
However, the moment of triumph was short-lived. The man who had led me here—obviously quicker and more cunning than his companion—slipped an arm around my neck from behind, tightening his grip in an attempt to subdue me. But adrenaline was coursing through my veins, sharpening my instincts. Utilizing a move I'd only practiced in self-defense classes, I shifted my weight and flipped him over my shoulder. He hit the ground with a thud, the air grunting out of him.
"Stay right there!" I snapped, my voice colder than the night air. My hand shot out, grabbing the gun that had been loosely tucked into his waistband. Pointing it towards the shorter man who was now eyeing me warily, I tried to keep my hand steady.
"Can you even handle that thing?" he asked, a nervous chuckle belying his taunt.
"All I need to do is pull the trigger! Doesn't matter where the bullet goes, as long as I hit you," I retorted sharply. The simplicity of the action was calming in a strange way.
"We should've just hurt you the first time, but now I think we should get a taste of Jasper's favorite toy," the shorter man said, his smile twisting cruelly as he glanced behind me.
Before I could process his words or turn to see what he was looking at, a sharp pain exploded in the back of my head. A blunt force, a plank of wood perhaps, made contact with such velocity that my vision blurred and darkness crept in from the edges of my consciousness. The last thing I heard was the sound of wood clattering to the ground and footsteps approaching before I was swallowed by the blackness.
As I came to, I heard people talking in hushed tones nearby. "Fuckers heavier than he looks!" someone remarked gruffly.
"He won't die on us right?" another voice asked, tinged with nervousness.
"I hope not. Emily would kill us if she finds out we killed him before she could," a third voice added, a hint of worry seeping through.
"We just need to make him think he's about to be traumatized before giving him to Emily," someone plotted.
"Why is she doing this to her own brother?" another queried, the confusion evident in his tone.
"She wants his husband," came the chilling reply.
"That's none of our business! Wake him up!" commanded a more authoritative voice. Moments later, water splashed violently against my face, pulling me abruptly back to reality.
I coughed a bit, blinking away the moisture as I surveyed my surroundings. We were in an abandoned office, the air heavy with the musty scent of mold, wallpaper peeling off the walls, and old furniture covered in dust.
"What are you two up to now?" I managed to fumble out, my head still spinning from the grogginess.
The taller one, slipping on a pair of purple latex gloves, replied with a smirk, "We just need to check out all the places Jasper's been with ya."
Despite the dire situation, I couldn't help but chuckle, knowing they'd do absolutely nothing to me. "Try me out then, I'll tell you if you're good or not," I taunted, more to provoke a reaction than anything else.
The taller guy leaned down toward me, and in response, I spit up at him, which caused him to retaliate with a hard slap across my face.
"Listen, your sister never forgives a betrayal, so we're going to make sure you know what she means when she says to stop messing with her," the shorter one said, his smile smug and sinister as his hand slapped my face again.
The pain in my head was sharp and unyielding, a relentless throb that seemed to pulse with every beat of my heart. It felt as though a vice was tightening around my skull, squeezing with merciless precision. The slap had sent a shockwave of agony through my entire head, intensifying the ache that had started with the earlier blow. It radiated from the point of impact on my cheekbone, shooting across my face and burrowing deep into the bones of my jaw and temples.
Every slight movement, every jerk as I tried to find a less painful position, seemed to jostle my brain against my skull. The pain was not just physical; it was disorienting, clouding my thoughts and making it hard to focus on anything other than the throbbing misery enveloping my head. Light, even the dim illumination of the abandoned office, stabbed at my eyes like needles, forcing them shut and adding to the sense of vertigo that threatened to overwhelm me.
Breathing became a conscious effort as I tried to manage the pain, each inhale sharp and each exhale a desperate attempt to will the agony away. The metallic taste of blood tinged my mouth, a reminder of the vulnerability of my position.
"The pain will go away in a bit!" the short one laughed mockingly. "You won't feel a thing soon."
"Like you guys can really do anything confidently," I retorted, rolling my eyes despite the throbbing in my head. "She was stupid to trust you to do anything right."
"Shut up!" the tall one snapped, his face contorting in anger.
"What will Emily say once she finds out you took her anesthesia shipment?!" the taller one jeered, thinking it was all a joke.
I seized the moment to stir some discord. "I'd say it's a bad idea. I had no idea she was even running drugs. I was under the impression she had a legit job with my mother. Sounds like Emily has entered the black market plastic surgery route to maintain her lifestyle."
The two men immediately stopped laughing, their expressions turning to ones of confusion and concern. Clearly, I wasn't supposed to know about that.
"What the fuck?! Then what was she even talking about?!" the third guy snapped, his voice laced with incredulity.
"You guys should really get yourselves together. Why not just ask me nicely? You'll now need a new excuse for Emily," I taunted, trying to exploit their disarray.
The shorter guy's face turned beet red with rage. "I'll show you an excuse!" He reached forward and violently ripped my shirt open, exposing all the love bites Jasper had left on me. "Let me tell ya, in this business whether you see something good or bad, it never leaves ya! You'll never be able to go back to normal after I'm done with ya! Oh right, and we've dosed you a bit! Once it gets pumping, you'll have no choice but to beg for it!"
Despite the ominous threat, I knew deep down he wouldn't dare cross certain lines for real, so I remained unphased, which seemed to infuriate him even more. As his anger reached a boiling point, he unbuckled his pants, and the situation escalated to a new level of danger.