Page 138 of Pucking Them
Why am I even here, waiting for them? Why are nerves surging through me?
The cry of a gull behind me startles me.
I glance over my shoulder.
Is someone there?
I scan the road.
No one.
I’d been shocked and shaken to see the text. It meant that the Webbs were in America, right?
I should have been creeped out. What if the Webbs were the reason that I’d felt like someone was watching me?
What if they’d been stalking me?
What if…?
My pulse races.
What if they intend to kidnap and sell me again?I’m worth a hell of a lot more than I must have been as a kid.
I know nothing about Nicole or Craig. What if they have debts?
I could be nothing more than a meal ticket to them. Well, drug ticket. They saw Eden and me as property when we were kids.
My mind shies away from the thought that they knewexactlythe type of people the couple were who they sold us to.
Theyknewthe hell that they were trapping us in.
Sometimes, when I’d been adopted, I would lie in bed unable to sleep, and I would dream up different identities for Man and Woman.
I’d dream that they had thought the couple were simply desperate to adopt kids to love, wanting to give them a good home.
In my heart, however, I knew that it was a lie. I wasn’t ready to face it then. But it comforted me.
Maybe I just need to look Nicole and Craig in the eye and find out either way.
I don’t know if that’s healthy or not. But who gives a fuck? It’s my bloody trauma.
Am I ready to face the truth now?
Robyn and the rest of the subs worked out a way last night to, as Garcia put it,mitigate the risk.
Garcia also offered me a gun.
“I’m English.” I laughed, shaking my head. “I’ve never even held a prop gun. If I picked up a real one, it wouldincreasethe risk. I’d probably shoot off my own balls.”
Robyn appeared horrified. “Then you’re definitely not doing that. I love your balls.”
I puffed up my chest. “Good because they’re yours, love.”
“What do English people fight with?” Garcia gave me a level look. “I could offer you a switchblade? Zombie knife?”
“No weapons,” Robyn said, firmly. “I’ll arrange a security team. You have one hour tomorrow morning, before I’m telling D’Angelo everything.”
“I thought that we didn’t like snitches,” I complained.
