Bound to You

March 18th, 2007
11:28 PM
Joe’s Crabshack

“Why don’t you go ahead and take off a little early, Eliza? You’ve been here all day, and it’s almost midnight. You’ve got to be exhausted.”

The woman looked up wearily from the table she was wiping down, seeing her boss standing there, a tired smile on her own face. Eliza sighed, and shook her head. She wanted to go home, but the tables all needed wiping down, and if she didn’t do it her boss would have to stay and do it.

“I’m almost done here. I don’t mind.” She told her boss. “I’ll be done by midnight; I promise.”

Her boss sighed, but knew that there was no changing Eliza’s mind. She was a hard worker, and was nineteen. She’d moved to San Diego from the somewhere in Tennessee, but had managed to completely lose any southern drawl she’d had. She smiled at the girl, and then pushed a hand through her blonde hair, peppered with strands of grey and white hairs.

“Okay, then. But midnight is it; you’re going home then, no ifs ands or buts about it.”

Eliza nodded, and then went back to wiping down the wooden tables, wanting to get it done.

Twenty-five minutes later, Eliza was finished. It was almost midnight now, and she walked to the back room to find her boss to tell her she was going home for the night.

“Dolores?” She called into the back room. It was an eerie atmosphere, with unpainted cement walls, exposed metal beams, and a concrete floor, the only source of light flickering lights that seemed reminiscent of the kind construction workers used.

“I’m in the office, El.” She called to Eliza. She crossed the room, wanting to get out of it, and walked towards the small, cramped office where Dolores sat going over the list of groceries to order.

“Do you want me to come in tomorrow?” She asked her boss, leaning in the doorway. Dolores looked up at her and shook her head, a friendly smile on her face.

“No, you take a day off, honey. You work almost every day, and you never have time to do anything. Go to the beach; get a tan. Relax a bit.” She told Eliza. “You taking off?”

“Yeah, I got the tables and chairs all wiped down, so the morning crew doesn’t have to do that tomorrow.” Eliza yawned. She hadn’t realized just how tired she was getting.

Dolores nodded, and then checked the time. Five minutes after midnight.

“Do you want a ride? You live awhile away from here, and I don’t want you on the bus this late at night.”

“I’ll be okay. Sean is coming to pick me up.” Eliza lied, a smile on her face. Sean, in fact, was her ex-boyfriend; an ex that Dolores still thought she was with. She knew her boss was only worrying for her, and she had good intentions, but her home was almost clear across San Diego, and not in the best area at that. She didn’t want her boss to have to take her home and then drive all the way back. She’d be fine.

“Well, if you’re sure…” Dolores said. “I think I’m going to take off, too. I have to be here bright and early.”

Eliza smiled at the age-old joke; it was one they always said every night as they were leaving. Eliza waved goodbye, turned her iPod onto shuffle mode, and stuck her earphones into her ears as she walked through the dimly lit back room towards the metal door that was the employees’ entrance and exit. Once outside, Eliza was hit by the ocean breeze, slightly chilly but nothing uncomfortable.

As she started walking towards the street to cross it, she got the creepy feeling that someone was watching her but brushed it off, blaming it on paranoia and too little sleep. She waited for the crosswalk to signal and crossed it quickly, walking at a brisk pace since she wanted to get home.

“Eliza.” She heard a voice in the dark say. Eliza froze in her spot, wondering if it was just one of her friends playing a joke, or perhaps just a freak coincidence that there was someone else named Eliza in the area.

“Hello?” She called into the darkness, looking forward on the streetlamp-lit sidewalk and then behind her, trying to find someone. No one replied, and she shook her head, giving an exasperated sigh.

“You’re just paranoid, El.” She muttered to herself as she continued walking, sticking her hands in the pockets of her lightweight hoodie.

She was just about home when she heard it again.

“Eliza.”

She stopped in her tracks and spun around on her feet, a perfect pivot movement. “Whoever is calling my name, I’m tired, it’s the middle of the night, and my patience is wearing thin. Either face me or leave me alone.”

When no one stepped out of the shadows, too dark to see into and too intimidating to step into to search for someone, she sighed again and began walking towards the Sea Breeze Apartment Complex; the place she’d called home ever since she’d gotten to California the day she’d turned eighteen.

As she walked up the dimly lit stairwell of the apartments, she couldn’t shake off the feeling that someone was following her; watching her. She refused to turn around, convinced that it was just an overactive imagination, and headed towards Apartment 234 on the fourth floor. When she reached it, she fumbled around in her purse as she tried to find her key.

Just as she stuck her key into the door, a hand clamped over her mouth and twisted her hand, forcing the door open. Whoever was holding her pushed her into her apartment and shut the door behind himself quietly, not wanting to draw attention. Doing the only thing she remembered from her self-defense class, Eliza tried to knee him in the crotch, but he deflected her easily.

“Knock the bitch out, she’s going to get someone’s attention.” Another voice, this one from somewhere in the apartment, said. The voice was cold, and intimidating sounding.

“We can’t just knock her out. She hasn’t—ow! The bitch bit me!” Another, more rapsy-sounding voice said, pulling his hand off of her mouth.

“Help! I’m being—” Eliza started before someone hit her rather painfully on her face. When she opened her eyes, she saw a the end of a gun pointed straight between her eyes.

“Pull anything else like that, and you’re dead.” The person holding the gun said, his eyes meeting hers. They were cold, angry, and bitter eyes, though a beautiful shade of chocolate brown.

“Put that thing down if you don’t intend to use it.” She retorted. “I’m not afr—“

There was a knock on the door, and Eliza stopped. This could be her saving grace. Without hesitation, she bolted towards the door, almost making it there before someone grabbed her and tackled her to the ground, his body heavy on her. Just how many of these guys were there?

“El? You okay in there? I heard some banging and you yell.” Her neighbor’s voice called, suspicious and worried-sounding.

The gun barrel clicked, and Eliza looked at it to see it again pointed at her face.

“Get rid of whoever that is. Or you’ll both be dead, and that’s not in our orders.” The man said. He was about Eliza’s height, with blonde hair and a scruffy-looking face. Despite his short stature, he looked like he meant it.

“I’m okay, Cheryl.” Eliza called, believing the men when they said they’d kill. They had guns, they had already hit her and probably bruised her, and they had been the ones to follow her home. They weren’t messing around.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, I’m just—oh, god. Do that again, Sean.” She said, forcing her voice to sound orgasmic. It was a surefire way to get rid of the neighbor.

“Oh…oh. I’ll just be going, then.” Her neighbor’s voice said before they heard footsteps walking away. When the neighbor’s door closed, the gun butted her in the head, and she was yanked roughly to her feet.

“She’s more trouble than she’s worth, V.” The short blonde man said, addressing one of the men. Heavy footsteps walked up from behind her, and a second later a large hand grabbed her upper arm in a painful grip.

“She won’t be anymore trouble. Will you, Eliza?” He said, his eyes boring down into her. Eliza forced herself to look into his eyes, and found that whoever ‘V’ was, he had beautiful eyes, a light green in color that brought to mind the rolling, green hills of the small town in Tennessee that she’d grown up in.

But this wasn’t Tennessee, and the man definitely wasn’t her friend.

“Fuck you.” She spat, unwilling to give up without a fight. She’d die before she’d give in. The man sighed, and then he looked behind him.

“Give me the goddamn chloroform.” He directed someone. Within a minute, a rag wetted with the substance was shoved into her face underneath her nose, and though she tried to push the man’s hand away from her nose, she found that she was much weaker than he was. The effects of the chloroform soon took effect, and within minutes she felt herself going unconscious.

She just hoped that when she woke up, it wouldn’t be with these men.