Another sickening crunch followed by an agonized groan, and I felt blood on my forehead. Not mine. I felt a little bad about it, to be honest, but head-butting Dan was the only thing I could think of. He let go of my shoulders to cover his nose and I hightailed it out of there. Well, tried to. I had forgotten we were in the middle of nowhere (not hard to find in Utah). I had also forgotten my feet were bound together with rope. As I hit the hard, rocky ground with a painful thud, I heard the bowler hat guy laughing.
“Excuse me sir, I have to go. The brat just tried to get away.” He snapped his phone shut and strode over to me, his broad, ruddy face cracking into a self-assured grin.
“I’ve been doing this for a long time, Mr. Brey. It’s going to take a lot more than that to escape.” He said assuredly, giving me a sharp kick in the stomach. I folded over in pain, and the obscenities at the tip of my tongue went sadly unsaid as the wind got knocked out of me. I was feeling pretty confident that if I wasn’t tied up on the ground, I could and would beat the crap out of this smug, pudgy little creep. With a snort, bowler hat guy turned away from me.
“Get a hold of yourself, Dan.” Bowler hat guy said coolly, not addressing the hideous mess that was Dan’s nose. Dan stood up and brusquely snapped his nose back into place. Gross.
“Tissue?” Bowler hat guy said, pulling a handkerchief from his suit pocket. He gratefully accepted and wiped the blood from his face.
“Now that you’re all better, could you throw Mr. Brey here back in the trunk? I spoke with our client and asked him to change our rendezvous point. We probably lost them, but we can’t take any chances with them, you know.” Bowler hat guy said seriously, nervously fidgeting with his hat. He was bald, I noted delightedly. That would come in handy for future insults.
I was thrown into the trunk. Not very carefully, I should add. I think Dan was mad at me.
But I wasn't worrying about that. Something that bowler hat guy said had sparked my interest. We can't take any chances with them, you know.
"Who's them?" I asked Dan casually as he slammed the trunk door.
Not surprisingly, he didn't answer, and I found myself once again shut inside the darkness of the trunk.