Five minutes later, Bret was behind the wheel, starting the car. The car made a healthy rumble.
“It’s working,” Bret said, smiling.
Kurt was kneeling by his father again, talking to him softly, trying to keep him awake as he pressed into the wound.
“Well, you’ve got some talent, kid. How old are you?” Jim asked as Bret raided the mini fridge for a couple of six-packs.
He was about to snap at the man but Burt shook his head. “Don’t antagonize them, Kurt,” he whispered. “It’s not worth it.”
“Sixteen.”
Bret looked at the kid. “Shit, I totally thought you were twelve or something. Why the fuck do you have a chick’s voice? ”
Kurt refrained from replying.
“All right, we’re ready.” Jim picked up Kurt’s phone and scrolled through the contacts. “Dad,” he said with a smile before pressing call. Instantly, he heard Burt’s phone ringing in the other room.
Bret quickly went into the room and passed the phone to Jim.
“What are you doing?” Kurt asked, terrified.
Jim smashed both phones to the ground and trampled on them. At the same time, Bret ripped out the landline.
“No!” exclaimed Kurt.
“Get in the car, boy,” demanded Jim, cruelly.
“What? No!”
Burt grabbed Kurt’s shirt. “Stay the f-fuck away from him.”
“I have to get him to the hospital,” cried Kurt. “J-just go, please. We don’t care where you guys go, I just want to get him to a h-hospital.”
Bret stormed over to the Hummels and grabbed Kurt violently, ripping him away from Burt.
He wrapped his arm around Kurt’s neck and held him tightly. Kurt screamed and struggled.
“Shut the fuck up,” yelled Bret, tightening his hold, causing Kurt to gasp for air.
“Don’t kill the boy,” Jim said calmly.
He looked at Burt, who was struggling to stand up.
“This kid’s our ticket to freedom, Mr. Hummel.”
“No! No! Get the fuck away f-from him!” He tried to stand but crumbled painfully to the ground.
“Dad!” Kurt screamed as the hold around his neck loosened. He pleaded with Jim. “You cut all the phone lines. He can’t get to the hospital. Please, he needs me.” He was openly crying now. All he could think about was his father lying on the floor, bleeding to death.
“He’ll be fine. Be happy that I’m not ending his life right here,” Jim replied, conversationally.
Kurt tried to butt his head back into Bret’s face but he failed miserably. The brute threw him to the floor and kicked him violently in the side. Kurt cried out in surprise and tried to stand up.
Burt yelled hoarsely.
Bret pounced on him, his knees straddling the teenager. He grabbed his hair and pulled his head back. “You are going to do exactly as I say, get it? He jumped up, pulling the boy with him and slamming him against the car, face first.
Kurt continued to struggle but he was no match for the enormous man.
Jim walked up to the struggling teenager and raised his gun. He jammed the butt of the gun into his head and the last thing he heard before his world went black was his father screaming.
“Well, do they want me to order them Chinese?” Finn’s mom asked.
Finn stared at his phone.
“I-I don’t know.”
“Oh Finn…”
“Kurt said he’s staying with his girlfriend, Rachael.”
“What?” Carole said, wrinkling her eyebrows. “That doesn’t make any sense.”
“Kurt is going to spend time with his girlfriend, Burt is playing poker with Puck. Kurt will see mom tomorrow and Kurt and me are playing football tomorrow,” he repeated, looking at his mom, utterly confused.
Something twisted in Carole’s stomach. “Finn, call Kurt back.”
Finn dialed. “Straight to voicemail.” He dialed Burt’s cell. “Voicemail.”
Carole grabbed a phone and called the garage’s landline. “Nothing,” she muttered.
“Mom…do you think something is wrong?”
Carole jabbed ‘911’ into her cell phone.
“What’s your emergency?”
What was the emergency, Carole thought, her mind running wild. Finn was already grabbing Carole’s car keys.
“Where do you think you’re going?” she snapped at Finn.
“If something is wrong, I have to go and-.”
Carole snatched the keys from her son. “Stay here Finn.”
“Ma’am?” the operator prompted.
“I think my boyfriend and his son are in trouble,” she said urgently before rattling off the address.
“Mom, I’m coming with you!”
“No, Finn!”
Finn was already climbing into the passenger seat.
Carole drove out of the driveway. “You’re staying in the car, Finn.”
Finn shot out of the car the moment his mother parked. “Finn!” she cried, running after her long-legged son.
She could hear sirens in the background.
“OH MY GOD!” cried Finn.
Burt was laying on the floor, unconscious, blood pooling around him.
Carole screamed and ran to her boyfriend.
“Burt!” she exclaimed, her fingers checking for his pulse. “He’s…oh God, he’s been shot! Burt, please, baby, stay with me.” She was crying, her entire body shaking violently.
Finn ran through the garage frantically. “KURT!” he yelled.
“Mom!” Finn gasped, staring at the destroyed cell phones on the floor. “Kurt’s not here!”
Carole looked at the material pushed into Burt’s wound. Blood was smeared over the label but she could make out the letters. “Kurt.”
Her hear clenched. Where was her boyfriend’s son?
EMT and police quickly swarmed the auto shop. They gently pushed Carole aside and lifted Burt onto a stretcher.
“Ma’am?” started a police officer.
“Kurt,” she gasped.
“Do you know who did this, ma’am?”
She shook her head.
“Kurt-he’s not here,” Finn said frantically.
The officer looked at the teenager. “Son, please explain-.”
“Kurt! His son,” he said, pointing at Burt. “He was here, w-working. T-that’s his phone and those are his coveralls! But he’s not here! He’s not here!” Finn was practically shrilling at the officer.
“Finn, stay here with the officer and then come to the hospital. I-I’m going to ride in with the ambulance.”
Filled. 8/? -- above is 7/?
anonymous
July 17 2010, 23:39:34 UTC
----
“Son, start from the beginning.”
Finn sucked in some air and explained his weird conversation as the ambulance pulled away.
“I c-called him like 15 minutes ago. He said he was going to stay with his girlfriend, Rachael.”
“All right,” the officer said. A plain-clothed detective soon joined him. The officer looked at the detective, raising an eyebrow and shaking his head lightly.
“But that didn’t make any sense. Kurt-Kurt doesn’t like girls. He likes boys. And Rachael is my girlfriend. And then he said his dad was going to play poker with Noah but Noah is my friend. Burt doesn’t even know him. And he said to tell mom that he’d be home tomorrow but he doesn’t call my mom ‘mom’ and his mom is d-dead. And he said we were going to play football but he doesn’t like football…I mean he’s a good kicker but he doesn’t care about football and then he hung up and now he’s missing!”
He barely took in air as he rambled, his heart pounding and tears building in the corner of his eyes.
The female detective placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. “Breath, son.”
He was crying now. “Burt is shot and Kurt is missing. Oh God!”
“You did the right thing, calling us. You realized that your friend was trying to send you a message. He said all those things because he knew they made no sense.”
Finn nodded absently. “You’ll find him right?”
“We’re going to do everything in our power. Now, the officer, here, is going to take you to the hospital to be with your mom and I’ll be in constant contact with you.”
“No, no, no. I need to find him. I need stay here!”
“The best thing you can do now is stay with Kurt’s dad. The moment he wakes up, the more we’ll know about your friend.”
The officer led the frantic teenager to the car. “Please, please, be all right, Kurt,” he kept muttering.
Re: Filled. 8/? -- above is 7/?
anonymous
July 18 2010, 01:13:16 UTC
Okay, it's gone 2:00am but I think sitting here and constantly pressing refresh is definitely the right thing to do. Refresh, twitch, and wait for the next part of the fabulous story. Maybe I'll think up a "more fic, save Kurt" chant of some sort. I can chant while still pressing refresh.
Life getting in the way of constant typing...but here's some more.
----
Kurt’s head felt like it was splitting in two. He blinked his eyes open, feeling dazed and disoriented.
Where was he?
He blinked his eyes a few time, trying to clear his vision.
He was in a car, a beat-up GM. Slowly, as things became less blurry, everything came rushing back.
He jerked violently, his eyes frantically searching the car’s cabin. Jim was seated in the driver’s seat and Bret sat beside Kurt, his gun in his hand, resting on his knee.
“Oh, looks like sleeping beauty decided to wake up,” said Bret, lifting the gun and shoving into the boy’s side.
Tears involuntarily welled in his eyes, angrily. “You left him to die.”
“Don’t worry, kid. You’re dad will be fine. I’ve seen my share of gunshot wounds and that was nothing.”
That did nothing to reassure him. It only told him that he was probably riding in a car with murderers that were a little to rash with their guns.
He watched the road carefully, trying to see if he could possibly jump out of the car. They were on an endless stretch of deserted highway cutting through flat, treeless land. Even if he safely got out of the car, he had nowhere to go and he’d be back in their clutches in no time.
“So, how exactly do you plan to use me to execute your great escape?” he started, decided that he was going to talk to them, in the hopes that they will let something slip that work in his favor. All he wanted was to get back home and to his dad.
His stomach twisted painfully. If anything happened to his dad…no, he couldn’t think about that now. If he didn’t get out of this, his dad would be devastated and that wouldn’t help his healing process.
“Well, for the last few days, the Feds had no clue where we were. After our stop at your dad’s shop, the Feds will be all over Ohio. If they catch up to us, they’d better keep their distance if they want you back in one piece,” Bret rambled.
Kurt could see Jim narrow his eyes in annoyance through the rearview mirror. Somehow, he had to tap into their dynamics and use it to his advantage.
“You’re our…what’s that word, Jim?”
“Collateral,” he said, wearily.
“Right, that.”
That idea was stupidly basic and he was sure that Jim had a more elaborate plan.
“Hey, Bret, why didn’t we just kill them and make it look like a robbery.”
Kurt saw the glint in the man’s eyes. “Because I like a good chase.”
---
Captain Becker hung up on the phone and looked at his two detectives. “Just got off the phone with the Feds.”
“Feds? What do they want with this?”
“Crime scene got a DNA match from the garage. It’s a match Jim Rutherford and Bret Littleton.”
“Shit, you mean Kurt Hummel was kidnapped by the prisoners that escaped from Colorado?”
The captain nodded. “The Feds are on their way over as we speak. And be prepared for a media explosion when this all gets out.”
“Are we issuing a Code Yellow?”
“Not yet. We want keep this under wraps as long as possible. If Rutherford and Littleton get word that we might be close, they might do something rash to the Hummel kid.”
“This is fucked up. Stuff like this doesn’t happen in Lima!” said one of the detectives.
Burt had been in surgery for over an hour when a federal agent showed up in the waiting room and Finn and his mom found out the new revelation about Kurt’s disappearance.
“You’re saying that these…these convicts took Kurt hostage?”
“Ma’am,” started the woman.
“Well, aren’t you going to use GPS or something to find them!” exclaimed Finn.
“What did they go to prison for,” Carole asked fearfully.
Finn’s mouth felt dry.
The agent sighed. “That’s really not relevant.”
“What. Did. They. Do,” hissed Finn.
“Jim Rutherford murdered his wife and son in 1996. Bret Littleton murdered a girl he picked up from a bar outside Denver in 1999.”
Finn stared at the woman, horrified. This wasn’t happening.
“What are you doing to find him?” Carole asked softly, as if she didn’t trust her voice.
“Burt keeps excellent inventory of his shop and the only item unaccounted for is an alternator for a particular GM model. We’ve already put an APB out on the model and we have helicopters patrolling the skies. Our team is very efficient, Ms. Hudson. We are covering all basis.”
Finn was not reassured. All he could think of was that his almost-brother was currently been held captive by two cold-blooded murderers who were capable of killing their own child.
---
The pounding of his heart seemed deafening in the silent car. Kurt had his eyes glued on the passing signs, diligently memorizing every name and marker. They had passed through six tiny cowtowns on deserted highways and country roads.
Kurt felt like he was losing hope as the miles passed by. He thought about his dad, tried to cling to the need to come back to him. He tried to ignore the weird looks that Bret kept sending him. It made his stomach crawl.
He was supposed to be smart and cunning. Why couldn’t he think of a way out of this unimaginable situation? His mind seemed to be gripped by fear, unable to function properly.
“So, kid, you live your whole life in that hicktown?” asked Bret, his eyes never leaving him.
Kurt ignored the question.
Bret shoved the gun deeper into his side. “I asked you a question.”
“And I don’t really see the relevance to your question. So, forgive me if I do not respond to your inquiry. After all, I’m your collateral, not your conversationalist,” he said dismissively.
Kurt knew he was asking for trouble but he couldn’t stand been helpless and regardless of the weak rebut, his false arrogance was all he had left.
And the man pounced. A hand grabbed at his hair and pulled it back viciously.
“You think you’re smart, bitch? You think you can sit there and act like a fucking princess. Do you know what I went into the slammer for?”
Kurt tried to remain calm but his mouth was dry and his hands were instantly clammy.
“I lured this pretty little thing into a motel room one day. She was beautiful. Green eyes that sparkled and thick brown hair that you could just run your fingers through.”
His fingers were now immersed in Kurt’s hair, a false gentleness to the touch. His breath was impossibly hot against Kurt’s ear.
Jim continued to drive, unconcerned with what his partner and captive were discussing in the back of the car.
“When I was done with her, her sparkling green eyes were dead. And I hadn’t even killed her yet,” he whispered into his ear. “Just let that bounce about in your head for a while, princess.”
Kurt felt wetness in the corner of his eyes. His heart seemed lodged in his throat. For the first time in his life, the female tags terrified him.
“So, what was I asking? Oh right, you lived in that shithole your entire life.”
The tears finally spilled over his cheeks as he nodded, the feeling of defeat overwhelming.
Filler-Person
anonymous
July 18 2010, 03:45:44 UTC
And me too! I don't foresee sleeping anytime soon if I'm to get this done! And thank you!...I might even un-anon myself after this is all done so I can post it on my journal, lol.
“It’s working,” Bret said, smiling.
Kurt was kneeling by his father again, talking to him softly, trying to keep him awake as he pressed into the wound.
“Well, you’ve got some talent, kid. How old are you?” Jim asked as Bret raided the mini fridge for a couple of six-packs.
He was about to snap at the man but Burt shook his head. “Don’t antagonize them, Kurt,” he whispered. “It’s not worth it.”
“Sixteen.”
Bret looked at the kid. “Shit, I totally thought you were twelve or something. Why the fuck do you have a chick’s voice? ”
Kurt refrained from replying.
“All right, we’re ready.” Jim picked up Kurt’s phone and scrolled through the contacts. “Dad,” he said with a smile before pressing call. Instantly, he heard Burt’s phone ringing in the other room.
Bret quickly went into the room and passed the phone to Jim.
“What are you doing?” Kurt asked, terrified.
Jim smashed both phones to the ground and trampled on them. At the same time, Bret ripped out the landline.
“No!” exclaimed Kurt.
“Get in the car, boy,” demanded Jim, cruelly.
“What? No!”
Burt grabbed Kurt’s shirt. “Stay the f-fuck away from him.”
“I have to get him to the hospital,” cried Kurt. “J-just go, please. We don’t care where you guys go, I just want to get him to a h-hospital.”
Bret stormed over to the Hummels and grabbed Kurt violently, ripping him away from Burt.
He wrapped his arm around Kurt’s neck and held him tightly. Kurt screamed and struggled.
“Shut the fuck up,” yelled Bret, tightening his hold, causing Kurt to gasp for air.
“Don’t kill the boy,” Jim said calmly.
He looked at Burt, who was struggling to stand up.
“This kid’s our ticket to freedom, Mr. Hummel.”
“No! No! Get the fuck away f-from him!” He tried to stand but crumbled painfully to the ground.
“Dad!” Kurt screamed as the hold around his neck loosened. He pleaded with Jim. “You cut all the phone lines. He can’t get to the hospital. Please, he needs me.” He was openly crying now. All he could think about was his father lying on the floor, bleeding to death.
“He’ll be fine. Be happy that I’m not ending his life right here,” Jim replied, conversationally.
Kurt tried to butt his head back into Bret’s face but he failed miserably. The brute threw him to the floor and kicked him violently in the side. Kurt cried out in surprise and tried to stand up.
Burt yelled hoarsely.
Bret pounced on him, his knees straddling the teenager. He grabbed his hair and pulled his head back. “You are going to do exactly as I say, get it? He jumped up, pulling the boy with him and slamming him against the car, face first.
Kurt continued to struggle but he was no match for the enormous man.
Jim walked up to the struggling teenager and raised his gun. He jammed the butt of the gun into his head and the last thing he heard before his world went black was his father screaming.
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My NEXT button appears broken. Are you trying to kill me?
Love love love,
Angst- whore me
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------
“Well, do they want me to order them Chinese?” Finn’s mom asked.
Finn stared at his phone.
“I-I don’t know.”
“Oh Finn…”
“Kurt said he’s staying with his girlfriend, Rachael.”
“What?” Carole said, wrinkling her eyebrows. “That doesn’t make any sense.”
“Kurt is going to spend time with his girlfriend, Burt is playing poker with Puck. Kurt will see mom tomorrow and Kurt and me are playing football tomorrow,” he repeated, looking at his mom, utterly confused.
Something twisted in Carole’s stomach. “Finn, call Kurt back.”
Finn dialed. “Straight to voicemail.” He dialed Burt’s cell. “Voicemail.”
Carole grabbed a phone and called the garage’s landline. “Nothing,” she muttered.
“Mom…do you think something is wrong?”
Carole jabbed ‘911’ into her cell phone.
“What’s your emergency?”
What was the emergency, Carole thought, her mind running wild. Finn was already grabbing Carole’s car keys.
“Where do you think you’re going?” she snapped at Finn.
“If something is wrong, I have to go and-.”
Carole snatched the keys from her son. “Stay here Finn.”
“Ma’am?” the operator prompted.
“I think my boyfriend and his son are in trouble,” she said urgently before rattling off the address.
“Mom, I’m coming with you!”
“No, Finn!”
Finn was already climbing into the passenger seat.
Carole drove out of the driveway. “You’re staying in the car, Finn.”
Finn shot out of the car the moment his mother parked. “Finn!” she cried, running after her long-legged son.
She could hear sirens in the background.
“OH MY GOD!” cried Finn.
Burt was laying on the floor, unconscious, blood pooling around him.
Carole screamed and ran to her boyfriend.
“Burt!” she exclaimed, her fingers checking for his pulse. “He’s…oh God, he’s been shot! Burt, please, baby, stay with me.” She was crying, her entire body shaking violently.
Finn ran through the garage frantically. “KURT!” he yelled.
“Mom!” Finn gasped, staring at the destroyed cell phones on the floor. “Kurt’s not here!”
Carole looked at the material pushed into Burt’s wound. Blood was smeared over the label but she could make out the letters. “Kurt.”
Her hear clenched. Where was her boyfriend’s son?
EMT and police quickly swarmed the auto shop. They gently pushed Carole aside and lifted Burt onto a stretcher.
“Ma’am?” started a police officer.
“Kurt,” she gasped.
“Do you know who did this, ma’am?”
She shook her head.
“Kurt-he’s not here,” Finn said frantically.
The officer looked at the teenager. “Son, please explain-.”
“Kurt! His son,” he said, pointing at Burt. “He was here, w-working. T-that’s his phone and those are his coveralls! But he’s not here! He’s not here!” Finn was practically shrilling at the officer.
“Finn, stay here with the officer and then come to the hospital. I-I’m going to ride in with the ambulance.”
Finn nodded, distracted. “You have to find him!”
Reply
“Son, start from the beginning.”
Finn sucked in some air and explained his weird conversation as the ambulance pulled away.
“I c-called him like 15 minutes ago. He said he was going to stay with his girlfriend, Rachael.”
“All right,” the officer said. A plain-clothed detective soon joined him. The officer looked at the detective, raising an eyebrow and shaking his head lightly.
“But that didn’t make any sense. Kurt-Kurt doesn’t like girls. He likes boys. And Rachael is my girlfriend. And then he said his dad was going to play poker with Noah but Noah is my friend. Burt doesn’t even know him. And he said to tell mom that he’d be home tomorrow but he doesn’t call my mom ‘mom’ and his mom is d-dead. And he said we were going to play football but he doesn’t like football…I mean he’s a good kicker but he doesn’t care about football and then he hung up and now he’s missing!”
He barely took in air as he rambled, his heart pounding and tears building in the corner of his eyes.
The female detective placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. “Breath, son.”
He was crying now. “Burt is shot and Kurt is missing. Oh God!”
“You did the right thing, calling us. You realized that your friend was trying to send you a message. He said all those things because he knew they made no sense.”
Finn nodded absently. “You’ll find him right?”
“We’re going to do everything in our power. Now, the officer, here, is going to take you to the hospital to be with your mom and I’ll be in constant contact with you.”
“No, no, no. I need to find him. I need stay here!”
“The best thing you can do now is stay with Kurt’s dad. The moment he wakes up, the more we’ll know about your friend.”
The officer led the frantic teenager to the car. “Please, please, be all right, Kurt,” he kept muttering.
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----
Kurt’s head felt like it was splitting in two. He blinked his eyes open, feeling dazed and disoriented.
Where was he?
He blinked his eyes a few time, trying to clear his vision.
He was in a car, a beat-up GM. Slowly, as things became less blurry, everything came rushing back.
He jerked violently, his eyes frantically searching the car’s cabin. Jim was seated in the driver’s seat and Bret sat beside Kurt, his gun in his hand, resting on his knee.
“Oh, looks like sleeping beauty decided to wake up,” said Bret, lifting the gun and shoving into the boy’s side.
Tears involuntarily welled in his eyes, angrily. “You left him to die.”
“Don’t worry, kid. You’re dad will be fine. I’ve seen my share of gunshot wounds and that was nothing.”
That did nothing to reassure him. It only told him that he was probably riding in a car with murderers that were a little to rash with their guns.
He watched the road carefully, trying to see if he could possibly jump out of the car. They were on an endless stretch of deserted highway cutting through flat, treeless land. Even if he safely got out of the car, he had nowhere to go and he’d be back in their clutches in no time.
“So, how exactly do you plan to use me to execute your great escape?” he started, decided that he was going to talk to them, in the hopes that they will let something slip that work in his favor. All he wanted was to get back home and to his dad.
His stomach twisted painfully. If anything happened to his dad…no, he couldn’t think about that now. If he didn’t get out of this, his dad would be devastated and that wouldn’t help his healing process.
“Well, for the last few days, the Feds had no clue where we were. After our stop at your dad’s shop, the Feds will be all over Ohio. If they catch up to us, they’d better keep their distance if they want you back in one piece,” Bret rambled.
Kurt could see Jim narrow his eyes in annoyance through the rearview mirror. Somehow, he had to tap into their dynamics and use it to his advantage.
“You’re our…what’s that word, Jim?”
“Collateral,” he said, wearily.
“Right, that.”
That idea was stupidly basic and he was sure that Jim had a more elaborate plan.
“Hey, Bret, why didn’t we just kill them and make it look like a robbery.”
Kurt saw the glint in the man’s eyes. “Because I like a good chase.”
---
Captain Becker hung up on the phone and looked at his two detectives. “Just got off the phone with the Feds.”
“Feds? What do they want with this?”
“Crime scene got a DNA match from the garage. It’s a match Jim Rutherford and Bret Littleton.”
“Shit, you mean Kurt Hummel was kidnapped by the prisoners that escaped from Colorado?”
The captain nodded. “The Feds are on their way over as we speak. And be prepared for a media explosion when this all gets out.”
“Are we issuing a Code Yellow?”
“Not yet. We want keep this under wraps as long as possible. If Rutherford and Littleton get word that we might be close, they might do something rash to the Hummel kid.”
“This is fucked up. Stuff like this doesn’t happen in Lima!” said one of the detectives.
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“You’re saying that these…these convicts took Kurt hostage?”
“Ma’am,” started the woman.
“Well, aren’t you going to use GPS or something to find them!” exclaimed Finn.
“What did they go to prison for,” Carole asked fearfully.
Finn’s mouth felt dry.
The agent sighed. “That’s really not relevant.”
“What. Did. They. Do,” hissed Finn.
“Jim Rutherford murdered his wife and son in 1996. Bret Littleton murdered a girl he picked up from a bar outside Denver in 1999.”
Finn stared at the woman, horrified. This wasn’t happening.
“What are you doing to find him?” Carole asked softly, as if she didn’t trust her voice.
“Burt keeps excellent inventory of his shop and the only item unaccounted for is an alternator for a particular GM model. We’ve already put an APB out on the model and we have helicopters patrolling the skies. Our team is very efficient, Ms. Hudson. We are covering all basis.”
Finn was not reassured. All he could think of was that his almost-brother was currently been held captive by two cold-blooded murderers who were capable of killing their own child.
---
The pounding of his heart seemed deafening in the silent car. Kurt had his eyes glued on the passing signs, diligently memorizing every name and marker. They had passed through six tiny cowtowns on deserted highways and country roads.
Kurt felt like he was losing hope as the miles passed by. He thought about his dad, tried to cling to the need to come back to him. He tried to ignore the weird looks that Bret kept sending him. It made his stomach crawl.
He was supposed to be smart and cunning. Why couldn’t he think of a way out of this unimaginable situation? His mind seemed to be gripped by fear, unable to function properly.
“So, kid, you live your whole life in that hicktown?” asked Bret, his eyes never leaving him.
Kurt ignored the question.
Bret shoved the gun deeper into his side. “I asked you a question.”
“And I don’t really see the relevance to your question. So, forgive me if I do not respond to your inquiry. After all, I’m your collateral, not your conversationalist,” he said dismissively.
Kurt knew he was asking for trouble but he couldn’t stand been helpless and regardless of the weak rebut, his false arrogance was all he had left.
And the man pounced. A hand grabbed at his hair and pulled it back viciously.
“You think you’re smart, bitch? You think you can sit there and act like a fucking princess. Do you know what I went into the slammer for?”
Kurt tried to remain calm but his mouth was dry and his hands were instantly clammy.
“I lured this pretty little thing into a motel room one day. She was beautiful. Green eyes that sparkled and thick brown hair that you could just run your fingers through.”
His fingers were now immersed in Kurt’s hair, a false gentleness to the touch. His breath was impossibly hot against Kurt’s ear.
Jim continued to drive, unconcerned with what his partner and captive were discussing in the back of the car.
“When I was done with her, her sparkling green eyes were dead. And I hadn’t even killed her yet,” he whispered into his ear. “Just let that bounce about in your head for a while, princess.”
Kurt felt wetness in the corner of his eyes. His heart seemed lodged in his throat. For the first time in his life, the female tags terrified him.
“So, what was I asking? Oh right, you lived in that shithole your entire life.”
The tears finally spilled over his cheeks as he nodded, the feeling of defeat overwhelming.
-----
still typing...
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I feel bad cos I want something to happen to Kurt.
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Write on, dear!
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