Page 51 of Pretty Psychos
Seething and reluctant, I perched on the edge of the bed. The mattress was harder than I thought. Lumpier too.
"Figures, they wouldn't… Oh." I was sitting on the corner where I'd shoved the gun.
What sort of princess was I that I'd forgotten where I put the pea? I thought back to that conversation with Woody and held back a sniff.
Honestly, I was lucky I hadn't shot myself in the ass.
I shifted over to a slightly less uncomfortable spot and pulled the zipper up to fasten the right boot, then the left. Perfect fit, and they were actually comfortable.
If I was anywhere else on the face of the planet right now, I'd feel cute. These boots were made for kicking someone in the ass. Who would I kick, though?
Myself for getting into this situation to start with?
My parents?
Gregor Quinn, for being the one behind all of this misery?
My head on my hands, I sat and stared at the wall. Regular brick painted white. No window, not even one up high with bars on it. Not a legal bedroom then, since there was no egress.
I hoped like hell there'd be no fire. No one would come to rescue me if there was.
No one, I realized, was coming to rescue me regardless. If I was going to get out of here, I needed to save myself.
Think, I commanded.
I could shoot the lock off the door. That worked in movies, didn't it? Then what? Someone would hear the gunshot and come looking.
I glanced down at the floor. Concrete, stained but solid. If I had a shovel, I still couldn't dig my way out. Not to mention, that would take months.
The only thing I could do was wait patiently, and try not to hum the theme song toThe Great Escape.
As choices went, waiting sucked, ear worm or no ear worm.
I pulled the gun out from under the mattress and tucked it into the waistband of my skirt and hoped like hell no one would notice when they saw me. I was going to need my best poker face so I didn't look guilty as shit. I practiced for a moment. They could have left a mirror so I could see myself making faces, or trying not to make faces.
I sighed and reminded myself I'd survived worse than this. I'd get through this too, somehow.
While I contemplated my lack of options, the door was unlocked and opened. The second goon stepped inside. Hesmiled and closed the door behind him, leaned against it and appraised my outfit, a smirk on his face.
"It's not what I would have chosen."
What was I supposed to say to that? His taste in clothes was none of my business.
He pushed himself off the door and took a couple of steps towards me. "I can see you thinking, 'Silas, what would you have chosen?'"
Strangely enough, I wasn't thinking that at all. If he wanted to talk about that, I'd humor him. If I could get him on my side, maybe he'd let me walk out of here.
"Let me guess," I said, "you would have chosen a bunny costume, pink with big floppy ears and furry footsies." I mimed ears flopping back and forth to either side of my head.
He was taken aback for a moment before letting out a laugh. "That's cute. Why a bunny?"
"Why not a bunny?" I lowered my arms, my hands clasped in front of me. "Bunnies are cute. Who doesn't like bunnies?"
He rubbed his chin in contemplation. "I likeeatingbunnies. When I was a kid, I used to go hunting with my grandpa. We'd catch a bunch of rabbits, and my grandma would cook them up." He licked his lips. "They were tasty."
"Sounds like you've got a lot of good memories with your grandparents," I said, deliberately ignoring his innuendo, becauseyuck. "Are they still around?"
"Yeah, but I don't see them so much anymore." He shook his head. "Why am I talking to you about this?"
