December 12th 2011
So here you go!
"I want to see him."
Vince patted my head. "You will see him. Soon."
Sit. Good dog. The guy was pissing me off. I wrenched away from him, still tangled in the blanket, and rolled to my side. "I will see him. Now."
One of the men snorted.
I couldn't say what came over me, but the atmosphere inside the van didn't instill a need for caution. All the knives were put away. The men had relaxed. It took an effort to be afraid.
Until Vince's eyes narrowed.
He reached down, fisted his hand in the blanket, and jerked me up to my knees. His face right in mine he snapped. "Behave."
I held my breath and waited, sure he'd slap me. Punch me. Something. For some sick reason, I craved the violence. The boy deserved more than my one, fumbled attempt. Maybe I could help him by staying alive. But I couldn't help him by doing nothing.
He grunted. Then dropped me. Watched me worm free of the blanket as he touched the blood that trickled from his nostril to his upper lip. He licked his fingers clean.
I lunged. An arm barred across my bare belly. A forearm across my throat cut off my screams.
Vince hissed in my ear. "You have my attention."