Hostage

Sixty feet away through the open door, Jennifer Smith was thoroughly pissed off about the state of her life. Her father was behind closed doors at the front of the house, working. He was an accountant, and often worked at home. Her mother was in Florida visiting their Aunt Kate. With her mom in Florida and her dad working, Jen was forced 24/7 to ride herd on her ten-year-old brother, Thomas. If her friends wanted to go to the Multiplex, Thomas had to go. If she lied about going to Palmdale so she could sneak down to LA, Thomas would tell. Jennifer Smith was sixteen years old. Having a turd like Thomas grafted to her butt 24/7 was wrecking her summer.

Jen had been laying out by the pool, but she had come in to make tuna fish sandwiches. She would have let the turd starve, but she didn't mind making lunch for her father.

'Thomas?'

He hated it if you called him Tommy. He didn't even like Tom. It had to be Thomas.

'Thomas, go tell Daddy that lunch is ready.'

'Eat me.'

Thomas was playing Nintendo in the family room.

'Go tell Daddy.'

'Just yell. He'll hear you.'

'Go get him or I'll spit in your food.'

'Spit twice. It turns me on.'

'You are so gross.'

Thomas paused the Nintendo game and looked around at her. 'I'll get him if you ask Elyse and Tris to come lay out.'

Elyse and Tris were her two best friends. They had stopped coming over because Thomas totally creeped them out. He would wait in the house until everyone was lying by the pool, then he would appear and offer to rub oil on them. Even though everyone said ooo, yuck, go away, he would sit there and stare at their bodies.

'They won't lay out with you here. They know you watch.'

'They like it.'

'You are so gross.'

When the three young men stepped inside, Jen's first thought was that they were gardeners, but all the gardeners she knew were short, dark men from Central America. Her second thought was that maybe they were older kids from school, but that didn't feel right either.

Jennifer said, 'May I help you?'

The first one pointed at Thomas.

'Mars, get the troll.'

The biggest one ran at Thomas, as the first one charged into the kitchen.

Jennifer screamed just as the first boy covered her mouth so tightly that she thought her face would break. Thomas tried to shout, but the bigger boy mashed his face into the carpet.

The third one was younger. He hung back near the door, crying, talking in a loud stage whisper, trying to keep his voice down.

'Dennis, let's go! This is crazy!'

'Shut up, Kevin! We're here. Deal with it.'

The one holding her, the one she now knew as Dennis, bent her backwards over the counter, mashing the sandwiches. His hips ground against hers, pinning her. His breath smelled of hamburgers and cigarettes.

'Stop kicking! I'm not going to hurt you!'

She tried to bite his hand. He pushed her head farther back until her neck felt like it would snap.

'I said stop it. Relax, and I'll let you go.'

Jennifer fought harder until she saw the gun. The bigger boy was holding a black pistol to Thomas's head.

Jennifer stopped fighting.

'I'm going to take my hand away, but you better not yell. You understand that?'

Jennifer couldn't stop watching the gun.

'Close the door, Kevin.'

She heard the door close.

Dennis took away his hand, but kept it close, ready to clamp her mouth again. His voice was a whisper.

'Who else is here?'

'My father.'

'Is there anyone else?'

'No.'

'Where is he?'

'In his office.'

'Is there a car?'

Her voice failed. All she could do was nod.

'Don't yell. If you yell, I'll kill you. Do you understand that?'

She nodded.

'Where's his office?'

She pointed toward the entry.

Dennis laced his fingers through her hair and pushed her toward the hall. He followed so closely that his body brushed hers, reminding her that she was wearing only shorts and a bikini top. She felt naked and exposed.

Her father's office was off the entry hall behind wide double doors. They didn't bother to knock or say anything. Dennis pulled open the door, and the big one, Mars, carried in Thomas, the gun still at his head. Dennis pushed her onto the floor, then ran straight across the room, pointing his gun at her father.

'Don't say a goddamned word! Don't fucking move!'

Her father was working at his computer with a sloppy stack of printouts all around. He was a slender man with a receding hairline and glasses. He blinked over the tops of the glasses as if he didn't quite understand what he was seeing. He probably thought they were friends of hers, playing a joke. But then she saw that he knew it was real.

'What are you doing?'

Dennis aimed his gun with both hands, shouting louder.

'Don't you fucking move, goddamnit! Keep your ass in that chair! Let me see your hands!'

What her father said then made no sense to her.

He said, 'Who sent you?'

Dennis shoved Kevin with his free hand.

'Kevin, close the windows! Stop being a turd!'

Kevin went to the windows and closed the shutters. He was crying worse than Thomas.

Dennis waved his gun at Mars.

'Keep him covered, dude. Watch the girl.'