Serial Novel: Falling in Public, Ch. 35
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Falling in Public
Chapter 35
"I'm really not sure, Ms. Saunders," Eddie's driver said as he pulled away from the curb. He called me a few minutes ago and asked me to pull around to that door and wait for you. Should I call the police?"
Holly considered that as the car moved farther away from the terminal. "He didn't give you any other instructions? Didn't mention where we should meet him?"
The driver shook his head. "No ma'am." He took a sharp right turn, and Holly lost her balance, falling hard against the door. When she righted herself, her leg numb from the continued pain, she noted they were actually on the tarmac, heading fast toward a small, sleek jet.
"Eddie didn't really call you, did he." It wasn't a question. The sick feeling in her stomach grew stronger as they closed in on the jet. The driver shrugged.
"He did, actually. I merely...took liberties with the content of the call."
Holly glanced around, looking for anything she could possibly use as a weapon, but the car was immaculate. With the wheelchair in the trunk and her leg pretty much useless, it wasn't looking good. Two burly guys in suits were waiting as the car pulled to a stop, and one yanked the door open while the other reached for her. She thought about fighting, but decided to save her strength.
The brute pulled her out of the car and over his shoulder, her head hanging down his back as he anchored her with an arm around her legs. She cried out, but he didn't seem to care as he walked to the plane and climbed the stairs. By the time he lowered her to the ground, tears steamed down her face and she struggled to stand just inside the doorway on one leg.
"Move," he said, shoving at her shoulder. "Don't be a baby."
She couldn't keep her balance and fell, all of her weight on her wound. Bright lights filled her vision and she gasped, hearing voices all around but unable to make out what they were saying. Then it all faded away.
Pain was the first thing she noticed when Holly came to. Her leg, propped up on a seat across from where she was sitting alternately throbbed and burned. Someone had folded a once-white towel over the spot where she'd been shot. It was soaked with blood, and she felt faint just looking at it.
"Drink this."
An open can of orange juice was shoved into her hand, and she looked up, recoiling at the same big man who had shoved her over sitting so close. The can slipped from her fingers and juice splashed everywhere as it hit the floor of the plane. Just then, the aircraft bucked, sending the leaking can rolling across the small space. In an attempt not to throw up, Holly closed her eyes and grabbed both armrests, every muscle in her body rigid with the effort.
"You stupid bitch," the man beside her growled. Holly squeezed her eyes tighter, bracing for the blow she knew would come.
"Touch her, and I'll kill you myself, Nelson. Go get a mop."
Ch.1|Ch. 2|Ch. 3|Ch. 4|Ch. 5|Ch. 6|Ch. 7|Ch. 8|Ch. 9|Ch. 10|Ch. 11|Ch. 12|Ch.13|Ch. 14|Ch. 15| Ch. 16| Ch. 17|Ch. 18| Ch. 19 | Ch. 20 | Ch. 21 | Ch. 22 | Ch. 23 | Ch. 24 | Ch. 25 | Ch. 26 | Ch. 27 | Ch. 28 | Ch. 29 | Ch. 30 | Ch. 31 | Ch. 32 | Ch. 33 | Ch. 34 |
Falling in Public
Chapter 35
"I'm really not sure, Ms. Saunders," Eddie's driver said as he pulled away from the curb. He called me a few minutes ago and asked me to pull around to that door and wait for you. Should I call the police?"
Holly considered that as the car moved farther away from the terminal. "He didn't give you any other instructions? Didn't mention where we should meet him?"
The driver shook his head. "No ma'am." He took a sharp right turn, and Holly lost her balance, falling hard against the door. When she righted herself, her leg numb from the continued pain, she noted they were actually on the tarmac, heading fast toward a small, sleek jet.
"Eddie didn't really call you, did he." It wasn't a question. The sick feeling in her stomach grew stronger as they closed in on the jet. The driver shrugged.
"He did, actually. I merely...took liberties with the content of the call."
Holly glanced around, looking for anything she could possibly use as a weapon, but the car was immaculate. With the wheelchair in the trunk and her leg pretty much useless, it wasn't looking good. Two burly guys in suits were waiting as the car pulled to a stop, and one yanked the door open while the other reached for her. She thought about fighting, but decided to save her strength.
The brute pulled her out of the car and over his shoulder, her head hanging down his back as he anchored her with an arm around her legs. She cried out, but he didn't seem to care as he walked to the plane and climbed the stairs. By the time he lowered her to the ground, tears steamed down her face and she struggled to stand just inside the doorway on one leg.
"Move," he said, shoving at her shoulder. "Don't be a baby."
She couldn't keep her balance and fell, all of her weight on her wound. Bright lights filled her vision and she gasped, hearing voices all around but unable to make out what they were saying. Then it all faded away.
Pain was the first thing she noticed when Holly came to. Her leg, propped up on a seat across from where she was sitting alternately throbbed and burned. Someone had folded a once-white towel over the spot where she'd been shot. It was soaked with blood, and she felt faint just looking at it.
"Drink this."
An open can of orange juice was shoved into her hand, and she looked up, recoiling at the same big man who had shoved her over sitting so close. The can slipped from her fingers and juice splashed everywhere as it hit the floor of the plane. Just then, the aircraft bucked, sending the leaking can rolling across the small space. In an attempt not to throw up, Holly closed her eyes and grabbed both armrests, every muscle in her body rigid with the effort.
"You stupid bitch," the man beside her growled. Holly squeezed her eyes tighter, bracing for the blow she knew would come.
"Touch her, and I'll kill you myself, Nelson. Go get a mop."
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