Stupid son of a bitch Brian thought tossing some bills at the cab driver as he climbed from the car in front of his home. Nick had pissed him off for the last time. It was a stupid idea to have him come out here to keep him company when he was feeling so low about his life and his marriage. And now for him to take off and leave him who the hell knows where with nothing more than a stupid Mountain Dew some beef jerky his wallet and his cell phone was the last straw.
Stopping at the security gates of the house he punched in the code and waited while the gates drew back enough for him to slip inside and then he walked slowly up the drive. Passing the garage he noticed that the BMW was not in its’ stall and figured that Nick had probably decided to ditch him to do some partying. Whatever. He just didn’t care anymore. When Nick came back he was going to tell him to go back to Florida. Besides there was nothing more that Nick could do. Leighanne had informed him this morning that she wanted a legal separation and there was nothing Brian could say to change her mind. She sounded happier than she had in months and even giggled a few times during the course of the conversation making him wonder if someone was there with her?
Taking his house key out of his pocket Brian unlocked the back door and went inside. Turning on the pantry light he slipped his shoes off leaving them on the mat by the backdoor and went upstairs to the bedroom. He decided not to turn on the light, he was tired and pissed off and all he wanted was some sleep. Falling face first onto the bed he sighed. Who would have thought that life would turn out to be so hard, that marriage would turn out to take so much work. He was one of those people that believed that love conquered all, what a crock that had turned out to be.
Brian didn’t remember falling asleep until the ringing of the phone woke him up. Looking around the dark bedroom he rubbed his eyes and tried to make out the numbers on the digital clock on his nightstand.
12:00 a.m.
Rolling onto his back he swung his arm up and over his head fumbling around for the phone. “What.” He said in a sleepy voice his eyes half closed as he began to drift back to sleep. When where was nothing but a dial tone, but he could still hear the ringing he realized it was his cell. Patting his right pant pocket he reached in and pulled out the phone punching the button to answer.
“What.” There was a pause.
“Bri.” It was Nick.
“What asshole.” Brian rolled onto his side.
“Bri, I’m in trouble.”
“You’re damn right you’re in trouble. You stranded me at the gas station and I had to call a cab, which took an hour and a half to get there. And by the way if you want your Mountain Dew and beef jerky you’ll find it in the parking lot of the gas station. I had the cab driver run over it a few times to make sure it was good and smashed. And another….”
“Bri, I’m in trouble.” Nick repeated himself. His voice was low and nervous. Rolling back onto his back again Brian sighed. Great, Nick had probably gone and gotten himself in trouble with the law again. He was always out drinking too much and partying with people he didn't know. Even though he was a millionaire and a Backstreet Boy he still felt like he needed to impress people to be popular.
“What did you do now?” The other end was silent. “Did you crash my car Nick? If you wrecked that car so help me God I will….”
“Brian, I’m scared.” Nicks’ voice was shaky and he sounded like he was fighting back tears. Sitting up Brian turned on the lamp and let his eyes adjust to the light. Looking down at the cell phone for the number on the caller id all it said was “BLOCKED CALL.”
“Where are you Nick, what happened? Look, whatever it is we can figure it out together. I didn’t mean what I said about the car. If you wrecked it I can just buy another one.” There was nothing but silence on the other end and Brian was getting scared himself.
“Nicky talk to me.”
“I have your friend.” The voice that answered back on the other end of the phone was not Nick.
“Who is this?”
“No one you know.”
“Where is Nick?”
“He’s right here with me. I have your friend and I have your car.” Brian stood up and reached for the phone on the nightstand.
“I’m pretty sure that I am going to kill him.” The voice said. “But he said he was scared so I told him that if it would make him feel better I would let him make one last call before he died.” Brian could hear Nick crying in the background. He picked up the receiver of the phone with the other hand and punched in 911.
“You can call the cops it won’t matter. The only difference it will make is that I will kill him sooner.” Brian sat down the phone in the cradle his hand shaking.
“Please don’t kill him.” He said in a hoarse whisper. “He didn’t do anything to you.”
“No, you’re right he didn’t do anything to me.” Brian paced the floor trying to think of the right words to say. Hoping this was some kind of joke but knowing that it was not.
“I have money.” He blurted out. “Lot’s of money. Name your price and I can get it for you.”
“How much have you got on you now?” Brian reached in his back pocket tugging out his wallet. It fell from his hands and hit the ground, he dropped to his knees flipping open the billfold and pulling out a wad of bills.
“I have six hundred and two dollars.” He said standing up and dropping the wad onto the bed. “Wait, wait I have more.” He walked quickly to his dresser pulling open the top drawer and fishing around in the back until he came up with another wad of bills secured with a gold musical note money clip. Stripping the clip off of the bills he tossed it into the dresser and counted out the bills into his hand. “I have three thousand six hundred and two dollars in cash. I can get it to you right now.” He looked down at his wedding band and his Rolex watch.
“I also have a wedding band that is worth a couple of thousand and a Rolex that you could get good money for.” When there was no answer on the other end Brian began to panic. Even Nick’s crying had stopped. It was an eerie silence that made him wonder if he had been dreaming the whole thing.
Wake up Brian
Wake up Brian
Wake up Brian
“Okay.” The voice came back on the line “I want you to bring me the money, the ring and the watch. I am going to give you an address. If you call the cops I’ll put a bullet in his head.” Brian grabbed a pen from the top of his dresser and scribbled the address on the back of an envelope he found nearby. The man’s voice was garbled and he asked him to repeat himself to make sure that he had heard the address correctly but the guy just laughed.
“No way buddy. You either heard me or you didn’t. You’ll either be here or you won’t and your friend will either live or he will die.”
Dial tone
* * *
Nick sat in the corner of the one room apartment, back against the wall knees drawn to his chest as he watched the guy talking on the phone. He couldn’t hear what he was saying but when the conversation was over he pushed the end button and threw Nicks cell phone against the wall with a loud crash. Nick watched the cell phone smash into a million pieces as the guy turned around and faced him.
“What are you two? Some little daddies boys out playing with daddies money and daddies car?” The guy moved to the table in the center of the room where he had placed Nicks’ wallet after taking it from him.
“Where does a kid like you get eleven hundred dollars in cash and two platinum cards from?” He asked shuffling through the contents of Nicks’ wallet, which he had dumped all over the table in search of cash. Picking up Nicks Florida driver’s license he twirled it between his fingers before turning it over to read the front.
“Nickolas. That’s like Santa Clause isn’t it. I think I will call you St. Nickolas.” The guy laughed at his own joke as he tossed the drivers license back down on the table and walked across the room towards Nick.
“Hey.” The guy kicked Nicks’ leg with the toe of his boot. When Nick didn’t look at him the guy drew his leg back and slammed it hard into Nicks’ legs knocking them out from under his chin. “I said Hey. When I say hey you are supposed to say what.”
Nick looked up at him his eyes blurring with fresh tears. “What.” He said wiping his eyes with the back of his hand.
“Remember when I said I liked your boots?” Nick nodded looking down at the boots. The stupid boots. “Give them to me.”
Nick must have looked confused because the guy knelt down eye level with him and grabbed him by the back of the neck pulling him close to him so that their foreheads touched. The guys skin was warm and sweaty and his breath reeked of beer and cigarettes.
“Give me the boots asshole.” He released his grip slamming Nicks’ head into the wall with a smile. Nick reached down for this left foot and tugged the shiny black boot off handing it to the sweaty dickhead and then he did the same with the right foot. The guy stood and walked to the couch in the opposite corner of the room. Sitting down he pulled off his own shoes and tossed them in a pile and then pulled on the boots slowly one at a time.
* * *
When the guy had first climbed in the car and pointed the gun at Nicks’ head he had gone into a sort of dream like state where nothing seemed real. He couldn’t even remember steering the car or pushing on the gas or stopping at the stoplights. Everything had seemed to happen in slow motion, even the guys voice as he yelled out the directions of where he wanted Nick to go had sounded sloppy and slow like he was speaking under water. Even now sitting there on the floor of the disgusting dimly lit apartment with its smell of sour milk and cat shit he still felt like it was all a dream.
Movies and made for t.v. cop shows flashed through his mind of people who were kidnapped or car jacked or worse. It seemed like in the movies people always tried to fight back or get away from the attacker. Nick himself had contemplated taking the guy once they arrived at the apartment. Imagining himself like Superman or some WWF wrestler just kicking the son of a bitch’s ass. But he had quickly changed his mind when the guy had dragged him out of the car by his hair, the gun pressed into his back and stood him up to face him.
He had at least three inches on Nick and out weighed him by seventy five pounds easily, all of which was pure muscle. He had dragged Nick up to the third floor apartment like he was a rag doll and tossed him inside head first leaving him sprawled out on the rug like an animal. He was so scared of the reality of what was happening that Nick had quickly let his mind return to its’ safe dream like state where everything as slow and had a soft glow around it.
He watched now as the asshole strutted around the room admiring the cowboy boots the gun stuck in the waistband of his jeans and he wondered if anybody would find him here? Nick knew that he himself had talked to Brian on the phone. What he had said and what Brian had said were all lost to him now. He just hoped that Brian wasn’t mad at him for buying those stupid cowboy boots and he hoped that Brian would miss him when he was dead.
* * *
Brian pulled into a rundown looking motel and parked the car. Grabbing the scrap of paper with the address on it he walked quickly through the double glass doors and made his way to the front desk. A woman in her fifties sat behind the counter clad only in a dirty white tank top and some cut off shorts that were about ten sizes too small. She was fanning herself with a sheet of paper and watching a rerun of The Golden Girls on the small black and white t.v. set that was beside her on the desk. When Brian approached the counter she looked up at him for a second and then returned her attention to the show.
“Excuse me.” He said slapping the piece of paper down on the counter in front of her.
“What.” She snapped her eyes never leaving the t.v. screen.
“I’m not from around here and I need your help. I am trying to find this address.” Her eyes looked at him and than slid down to the address on the piece of paper and then back up to his face.
“What, are you looking for drugs or something?” It was strange how quickly the scenery in Los Angeles could change. One minute you could be in the most posh neighborhood in town and a few hours later you could be in hell.
“No, I’m not looking for drugs. I’m trying to find my friend.” She reached over and turned down the sound of the t.v. set and then reached below the counter and pulled out a map.
“I’m busy watching my show. If you want to find that place you can find it yourself with this.” She pushed the map at him with a scowl.
“Thanks, you’ve been no help at all.” He said under his breath as she cranked the sound back up and turned away from him. Taking the map he walked back out to the car and climbed in locking the doors and turning on the overhead light. Shit. He had no clue where he was or where he was going. And while he was determined to think positive that everything would work out okay and that this was just some poor bastard who wanted to stiff Nick and him for some cash while scaring them in the process, he couldn’t help wondering if everything was going to turn out alright.
Leaning his head back against the seat every prayer he had ever been taught swirled through his mind as he tried to find the one that was right for this situation. Finally he decided they were all right for this situation as he unfolded the map and rubbed his tired eyes.
“Hang on buddy.” He said out loud as he moved his finger down and around the winding lines on the map. “Just hang on.”
* * *
There was a loud knock at the door that made Nick jump. But the guy seemed to be expecting someone as he calmly walked to the door and flipped the three deadbolts. He opened the door only a few inches and talked low so that Nick could not hear what he was saying to whoever was on the other side. Then closing the door he walked over to Nick.
“Okay Jolly Old St. Nick get up.” Nick did as he said and got to his feet. The guy pulled the gun out of his waistband and jammed it into Nicks’ forehead. “You’re going to do everything I say right?” Nick nodded, swallowing hard. The guy smiled. “That’s what I thought.” Lowering the gun he waved it in the direction of the door.
Nick walked to the door with the guy close behind him and opened it upon command. Stepping out onto the landing Nick looked down and could see that the BMW was no longer parked below. In its’ place was an old dark colored pickup truck with another man leaning against the driverside door apparently waiting for them.
The guy shoved the gun into Nicks’ back from behind prompting Nick to walk, stocking footed, down the two flights of stairs to the truck . The other guy grabbed him hard by his upper right arm and flung him into the open driver side door. The first guy climbed in the passenger side and the second guy climbed in behind Nick sandwiching him in the middle.
“Okay so where are we going Mo?” Mo. So they name of the guy that had carjacked him was Mo. Seemed to fit.
“Go to the warehouse.” Mo squirmed around trying to get comfortable in what little space he had, what with Nick practically sitting on his lap. He would shove Nick a little from the right and then Nick would bump into the other guy who would shove him from the left.
“Knock it off asshole.” Mo said. Nick didn’t know if he was talking to him or to the other guy? Mo grabbed a pack of cigarettes out of the glove compartment and tapped two out. He then pulled a lighter out of his shirt pocket and lit them both and passed one across Nick to the other guy.
Nick inhaled the smoke as it passed under his nose knowing that if he got ahold of that pack he would smoke it in five seconds flat. He had promised Brian that he wasn’t smoking anymore but what Brian hadn’t known was that Nick was sneaking smokes every chance he got. And then he would cram his mouth full with mints and gum and douse himself in cologne to cover the scent. One night Brian asked him why he smelled so bad. Nick thought he was busted for the cigarettes but it turned out Brian was talking about the overwhelming smell of cologne that filled the room. So after that he didn’t spray himself so many times.
“…I said do you want one kid?” Nick blinked himself back to reality and looked over at Mo. He was holding out a cigarette. Nick nodded taking it and pushing it between his lips while Mo flicked the lighter until it caught on the tip. Nick nodded a thanks his eyes sliding to the clock on the dash 2:00 a.m. He wondered where Brian was, and if he was still mad at him. He also wondered if Brian had called the police or if he was going to go all Mission Impossible and try to save him on his own. For some reason Nick didn’t think that it would matter either way. He already knew he was a dead man and nothing Brian could do could save him now.
Leaning back in the seat he pulled his knees up and hooked his arms around his legs, trying to keep them from sliding to one side or the other, the cigarette dangling loosely from the corner of his lips. Suddenly the guy jerked the wheel of the truck and turned off of the main road. Mo reached down and snapped on the radio as they bumped down the dark road. He rolled the dial through the stations finally settling on some Country Station with a sleepy voiced DJ that welcomed them to his evening shift called the Night Ride. Pulling the cigarette from his lips Nick leaned forward and stubbed it out in the half-filled ashtray.
“Aren’t you going to the finish that?” Mo asked.
“Nah. I think I just quit.” Nick said his stomach turning and his head pounding. Mo laughed beside him.
“Yeah that’s a good idea kid. It’s always good to get rid of your sins before you die.”