Like Glass We Break (Glass #2) (9 page)

“Stand up,” he screams.

Frightened, she does as he says. She emerges from the car and he pushes her against it. Her stomach and chest hit the side of the vehicle with a thud and the wind is knocked out of her. Behind her, Scott pulls a rope out of his pocket and ties it around her wrists. Then he yanks hard, pulling her closer to the inside of the car door, and secures her wrists tightly to the door handle. He pushes her down onto the passenger seat and she hits her head on the door frame. She is leaning out of the vehicle, wrists still attached to the door, but she’s pushed back in when he slams the door on her. She is slouched and uncomfortable, leaning to the right in her seat.

“I thought you were letting me go,” she whispers.

“Did I not ask you to stop talking, you stupid bitch?” he asks.

Again, silence as they drive. The sun is setting and Scott turns the radio up. Music is playing but Amrita isn’t listening. She’s focused on getting home, to her child, who had no one to pick her up from pre-school today. She wonders if one of the teachers stayed with her, or if Children’s Services has been contacted. She wonders if her daughter is scared. Amrita is scared.

The road is unoccupied by other vehicles. It seems everyone else is probably having supper with their family right now, and not traveling out of state. Besides, no one in their right mind should be traveling in this terrible weather. The roads are slippery and unsalted. It had warmed up a bit during the day, turning the snow into slush, but everything is frozen now into a clear sheet of ice. It is incredibly slippery—Amrita knows that from the stopping distance needed when Scott had slammed on the brakes earlier.

Amrita secretly wished for a collision. Perhaps they’d hit another vehicle head on, but most of the impact would be taken by the driver’s side, rendering Scott unconscious. Amrita would be undoubtedly hurt too, but maybe she’d be just conscious enough to loosen the rope and free herself from this vehicle. Then, she could run out onto the highway and wave her arms until a car slows to a stop, willing to assist her. She’d let them know what happened, and they’d call the police. The police would take Scott into custody for kidnapping her, and she’d be reunited again with her child. They’d move. They’d have no choice. She’s not sure how she’d come up with the money to, but they’d get far away—maybe to Oklahoma, since she has family there. Surely, her family would help, once she explains the situation. They’d want her to get out of this city too. Or, even better—Scott would remain in a coma for months and then when he’d finally wake up, his short term memory will have been destroyed.

Or maybe they’d get safely to wherever it is Scott wants to bring her, and he’ll do god knows what with her. Maybe he’ll leave her mangled body in a ditch and no one would find her buried in the snow all winter. She’d remain listed as a missing person until the spring thaw, when someone pulls over to change their tire and notices a human skeleton off the side of the road.

“Talk to me, Cora,” Scott says softly.

“Who is Cora?”

“Don’t be silly, Cor. Just talk. We’ve got a long drive ahead of us. Wait until you see what I’ve done to your place—or our place, I guess I should say. I reorganized and decorated while you were away, and you’ll be pleased, I’m sure.”

Play along, Amrita. This is your only way out.
“Did you paint?” Amrita asks, sounding interested.

“I repainted the entrance. After our fight, there was so much blood—and those guys cleaned it up but I could still see it everywhere. I could see it when I went to sleep at night. I could see it at work during the day. So I painted. It’s a calming pastel blue, now. The entire entrance. It’s such a pleasant surprise when you walk in, and I just ruined it for you—I wish I hadn’t told you about it. I wish I’d just shown you.” Scott looks like he’s about to cry.

“I’m sure I’ll love it,” Amrita squeaks.
This guy is fucked.

“I know you will. I also bought us a new comforter for the bed. Your last one was nice but I figured we needed a change, and we needed to make our bedroom a little bit more
us,
you know?”

“Sure. That’s really nice of you,” Amrita says gently, carefully choosing each one of her words so she doesn’t offend him. She glances downwards at the bulge in his jeans. She leans to her left and presses her rib cage against the middle console.

“What are you doing?” Scott asks with a puzzled look on his face.

“Oh, you know. Just thanking you for coming to pick me up in Philly, baby. You’re the best boyfriend a girl could ask for,” she says seductively.

“Oh, you’re welcome, Cor. I told you—as long as you’re faithful, I will always do anything for you.” He slides his hand over onto her knee and gives it a little squeeze. She forces a smile. They watch the road quietly for a few minutes, and then Amrita squirms, bending down to the left side, on the console.

He looks down at her face, curious about these moves. Amrita gives him another generous smile and then tugs at his pant zipper with her teeth.

“Oh,” Scott gasps. He’s shocked, but intrigued at the same time. Another tug. He holds his breath, waiting. Amrita sits back up straight in her seat. He glances at her briefly, eyes still on the road for the most part, confused.

“Sorry, baby. It’d be easier if I had my hands,” Amrita laughs, nervously.

“Well, we could fix that.” Scott chuckles cockily. The car glides to the side of the road and slowly comes to a complete stop. This time, Scott stays in the vehicle. He unbuckles his seat belt and pulls a pocket knife out of his suitcase, leaning over Amrita, while she holds her breath unintentionally. He saws away at the rope and it rips apart where his knife is working at it. “There we go.”

He buckles back up and the car is moving again. Amrita takes a good look out of the window, watching the trees go by, and then she casually buckles her seat belt.

“What are you doing?” Scott asks.

Without a word, she unzips his pants, exposing his tweed boxers. Turning her head slightly to the side, she kisses down his chest, ribs sore against the armrest. She continues down to his stomach, around his belly button, then down. As she arrives at his pants, she begins to bite gently on his boxers. His eyes close for a second. They open. They are still the only car on the road. Amrita ventures further down. Another bite. She pulls away at the opening of his boxers, releasing him. Just as she is about to put him in her mouth, she screams and twists the steering wheel to the right. They fly off the road into the ditch. The car rolls twice, then three times. Inside, glass shatters and Amrita is forced to close her eyes, bringing her hands up in front of her face. She is not aware of what Scott is doing. The car rolls again, and then comes to a shattering halt. The radio is no longer playing music. The car has landed on its side against a telephone pole. The car alarm is blaring. Amrita looks downwards at Scott. He isn’t moving. She reaches down and unbuckles her belt. She squirms so that she’s facing the door above her. Carefully, she pushes her foot onto Scott’s head, and uses it as leverage to push open the heavy door, and pull herself out of the vehicle. She climbs down and takes eight steps away from the car. Then she drops to her knees. It’s dark and she’s sore, but she’s not sure if she’s actually hurt or not. Her ribs are tender and her breaths are short. She needs to get out of here but it’s dark; who would actually find them here?
Scott’s cell phone.
She runs back to the car and kneels beside it. The front windshield is smashed in so she carefully reaches her hand in, trying not to cut it on the sharp glass that surrounds her wrist—the wrist that still has rope burns from her restraints earlier. Shaking, she pulls Scott’s cell phone from his pocket. Opening it reveals that the screen is shattered but otherwise, it works okay. She dials 9-1-1.

“Operator, what is your emergency?” a woman asks.

“I’ve been in an accident. Highway 27,” she explains.

“Is anyone hurt?”

“I don’t know.”

“Were you the driver of the vehicle, ma’am?”

“No,” Amrita replies. Unsure of what else to say about the situation to the woman over the phone, who has no idea what’s going on, she hangs up and throws the phone onto the ground. She walks up a small hill to the road, so that the police can see her when they get there. She waits, looking back every so often to see if Scott is walking up behind her. He doesn’t. He remains mangled and bleeding at the bottom of the vehicle, tipped over on its side, until the police, paramedics, and fire rescue arrive.

***

It doesn’t take the first responders long to arrive, and when they do, they find Amrita sitting on the ground in the middle of the road by the scene of the accident. A police officer is the first to run out of his vehicle toward her, shining a flashlight in her face.

“Are you all right, ma’am?” he asks.

“I’m fine,” she replies. She’s crying, her eyes are burning, and her face is red. The officer nods, and signals a paramedic over. He proceeds to check her out for injuries, snapping a neck brace around her and laying her down on a stretcher, just in case.

“I’m Detective Fischer, can you tell me what happened?” the officer asks. He holds a notepad out in front of him, with a pen in his other hand. The lights from the ambulance are shining right in Amrita’s face, almost too brightly.

“I don’t know who this guy is. He kidnapped me,” Amrita whispers.

“Are you talking about the man that was in the vehicle with you at the time of the accident?” Detective Fischer asks.

“Yes, sir,” Amrita replies. “He was at the airport. He was sitting in the waiting area with another woman. Their flight was delayed. He got up and left through another exit, and I went out the door to my ramp. I stood outside and had a smoke. He must have come around the building. Regular people are not allowed out there but no one must have seen him. He came up behind me and asked me where the rental lot was, and asked if I’d show him. I was creeped out so I said no, but he grabbed my wallet—saw that I had a little girl, and told me he’d come visit us if I didn’t do what he wanted. So I did—I walked him to the parking lot. I asked if that was all and he made me get in. He tied my wrists to the door of the car and I couldn’t move. I convinced him to loosen them. He kept calling me Cora—it was really strange. I just wanted to get away so I grabbed the steering wheel while he was distracted. We crashed and he never woke up.”

“I’m really glad you’re okay, ma’am. That’s all for now. If we have any more questions, we’ll speak with you once you’re at the hospital,” the officer explains, nodding.

Amrita is wheeled into the back of the ambulance then the ambulance disappears into the night.

At the overturned car, the firemen place a jack underneath it to turn it upright, and it lands on the ground with a loud crash. The paramedics open the driver’s side door and immediately place a neck brace around Scott’s neck. They cut his belt and slide him out of the vehicle, carefully laying him on a stretcher on the ground.

“He’s not breathing,” one of the medics says. Quickly, she pulls a tube out of a package and performs a tracheal intubation. A bag is attached and breaths of air are pumped into Scott’s lungs. He gasps and opens his eyes. The paramedic quickly pushes 5mg of morphine and Scott closes his eyes again. He’s out. They hook him up to a cardiac monitor and transport him to the local hospital.

The police keep the highway closed while they complete their investigation.

***

“Hi, miss,” a young woman nurse says softly to Amrita as she opens her eyes.

Amrita groans and stretches, realizing her ribs and chest are unbearably sore.

“Do you need pain medication? I can get the doctor,” the nurse asked urgently.

“No, I’m okay,” Amrita winces. “How long have I slept?”

“Almost six hours,” the nurse answers, pointing to the clock. It is still dark outside.

“My daughter,” Amrita manages to squeak out.

“She’s fine. They couldn’t find any relatives of yours so she was picked up by Children's’ Services. They’ve got her with a volunteer for the night. She’s actually allowed to come and visit you once you’re up for it,” the nurse explains.

“Can she come now?” Amrita asks.

The nurse nods and leaves the room to make a phone call.

Watching the hall carefully, Amrita is upset when Scott is wheeled by on a stretcher.

“Why is he here?” she yells. “Why here?”

Another nurse runs into the room, followed closely by the doctor.

“What seems to be the matter?” the doctor asks.

“He kidnapped me. He was probably going to rape me. Why is he at this hospital?” she hisses.

“He’s under arrest, Miss Daou. There are two officers with him and he’s chained to the stretcher. He won’t be going anywhere; he’s not even conscious,” the doctor whispers, knowing he shouldn’t be giving out personal medical information. “You’re going to be fine, but he has a right to medical attention too.”

Amrita nods and rolls over onto her side, making sure that she still has a view of the door to the hallway. She watches for Scott to go by again, and this time she hopes he’ll have a blanket covering his head.

She closes her eyes and begins to fall asleep. She has the strangest dreams—someone had been following her around for months, and finally decided to make a move and kidnap her, bringing her across the state line to fool police. She shivers and shrugs off the dream. Her eyes closed, she drifts off once again, until she hears footprints running in the hall.