It's Ok to Cry

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She slowly awoke to what sounded like crying and then a door being slammed shut from somewhere above her, and when she went to go reach her face, her hands were bound behind her.

What the hell?

She snapped her eyes shut tightly when too much light emitted itself onto her face and slowly opened her eyes, squinting at first before letting her eyes open all the way to take in her surroundings.

First and foremost, she was tied to a chair with her hands behind her and legs tied to the little bar underneath it. She noticed that it was somewhat dark where she was being held captive except for the penetrating sunlight coming from the three rectangular windows high up on the wall. She let her eyes focus for a few seconds and she realized that the small flat line that covered up only the bottom inch of the window was grass.

Ok, so I’m in a basement….one thing figured out.

She turned her head to the left when someone said, “How come you didn’t wake up earlier?”

She took in the boy sitting a few feet from her, in the same predicament that she was in. Tied to a chair with his hands behind his back and his legs tied to the bottom. His hair was dark, but not as in that he had dark hair, as in it was dirty and he hadn’t been able to shower for a few days. One side of his face was slightly swollen compared to the other side and he had a few cuts on his face, some old and some new that were bleeding slightly.

She looked at him curiously, from how oddly familiar he looked before answering him.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean…” he scoffed, rolling his head around since that was the only part of his body he seemed to be able to move and show attitude with. “Why did you wake up after he was done beating the shit out of me?”

Her eyes widened and everything seemed to piece together in lightening fast speed.

How when she got home she listened to her messages, then took a shower and went to bed but only for a few minutes because someone appeared in her room and slapped something over her mouth and then the next thing she knew she was here.

Chloraform. Son of bitch!

“He drugged me.” was all she said while she turned away from the boy to look at their surroundings some more.

There literally was nothing in the basement, just the two of them, an old couch off to the side, pushed up against one of the walls, a few shelves behind the stairs with stuff on it that she couldn’t make out and that was about it. It was a relatively small basement.

A small shiver ran through her body from the dampness of the basement and she thanked God that she decided to sleep in a t-shirt and yoga pants last night instead of her standard tank top and shorts.

“You’re Frankie Jonas aren’t you?” she asked him after a few minutes of silence passed between them.

“Yeah. How did you know?”

She laughed slightly at his question before she turned her head to look back at him to see him having his head hanging low and somewhat bent over in his seat.

“Sit up straight. You’ll get a bad back if you sit like that.” she snapped and when he snapped up quickly she laughed slightly.

Wow, I guess I have a little bit of my mother in me.

“First off, your brothers are famous. So that kind of gave you away, and second of all, I was one of the lead officers on your kidnapping case.”

He looked over at her and noticed how young she looked. Not saying that he wasn’t young, but he didn’t think that police officers where hot before. And she defiantly was. But that still didn’t stop his smart mouth.

“Well congratulations, you found me. Now get the me the hell out of here.”

She looked taken aback by the way he talked to her. His tone was harsh and so were his words. She knew kids swore, but he’d sworn how many times to her with 4 sentences? Then again, he had been kidnapped for the last 3 days and was getting the quote end quote ‘shit’ beat out of him.

Biting down her little smart remark of wanting to snap back at him for his sarcastic comment, she decided to ask him something else.

“So, why did he beat you up this morning?”

He sighed and looked away from her, sagging slightly in his seat again and she bit her tongue to yell at him to sit straight.

“I told him that you guys were gonna get him when he came down to check to see if you were awake.”

She nodded her head in understanding for a few seconds, deliberating if she was still going to ask him questions or not.

He knew a lot more about this guy than she did, but she didn’t want to overwhelm him and make him upset by asking him questions. She was supposed to save him, not make him feel any worse about his situation.

“So….” he trailed off as it fell silent between them for a few seconds. “What’s your name? I mean, you know mine, I think I deserve to know yours.”

She laughed lightly at that statement, thinking back to when she watched interviews of the boys and Joe would always make comments like that to the person interviewing them. It was just his goofy self coming out and Frankie definitely got some of Joe’s goofy character.

“Michelle. Michelle Hillbrook.”

“Hillbrook?” he asked, slightly confused and said it quietly to himself. “Hillbrook, Hill-Oh my gosh! You were the one on the phone the other night!” he exclaimed and then cringed slightly when he heard footsteps coming quickly from up above them.

She heard him mutter a ‘shit’ right before the door opened up that lead down the basement stairs and the golden glow of artificial light cascaded down the dark brown wooden stairs.

“Michelle….” she heard the man say before he actually came into view and a shiver ran down her back from the way he said her name. It was absolutely terrifying with his fake hospitality mixed in with his sarcastic tone. “You’re awake. So lovely for you to join us and grace us with your presence.”

She shivered yet again and when the scent of bacon and eggs wafted down the stairs towards where Frankie and her were kept prisoner, both of their stomachs grumbled.

“Looks like someone’s hungry. Well, how about we make a deal. You be nice and take a little picture for me, you’ll get your food.” his menacing voice sounded and he made his way over to her chair and she tried to keep herself looking fearless despite she could do nothing to better the situation. The only thing she could do, was not lose her cool.

“Why do you need a picture of me?” she asked, trying to keep her anger for this man subdued when talking to him.

“Well silly.” He started and then walked behind her, and picked up a thick strand of her hair and bent down to smell it, a creepy smile coming across his face before he let out a satisfying, “Hmmmm.” sound. “I need to prove that I have you and you just didn’t disappear for no good reason. You realize that now that I have someone that works for the city, I could make more than just off of the boy.”

“How do you ever plan on getting your money if you never go get it yourself?” she questioned him and watched him slowly make his way to stand in front of her while Frankie sucked in a small breath. “I mean, you can’t keep leaving drop off places and having homeless people get it for you without being hauled in for questioning.” she inquired, and only because she wanted to see what would make this guy tick, she pushed it a little further to figure out what he was really after all along. “And if for some reason we don’t haul them in, what makes you think that when they realize that there’s half a million in the bag that they have, that they just won’t take it and run?”

She watched as his hands clenched at his sides and his smirking lips turned into a straight thin line from his anger bubbling up.

And then the next thing he did, scared her the most.

He turned around and smacked Frankie so hard across the face that the chair lost is balance and fell over to the side, Frankie letting out a painful cry right before he fell onto the ground.

“What the hell?!” she yelled at the man who went to go hit Frankie again. “I say something to piss you off and you hit him?!”

“Well my mother taught me to never hit a woman, so the kid gets it.” the man said while he picked Frankie up and smacked him once again, catching the chair so it didn’t hit the floor again.

“But you’re mother taught you child abuse? You’re gonna kill the poor boy! You probably broke his nose already and a rib. Did she teach you how to kill someone because you’re doing a good job at it!” she shot back and she braced herself as best as she could when he whipped around and caught her throat with his hand.

“You won’t do it.” she chocked out as his grip tightened on her throat, a smug smile coming onto her face when he looked at her semi-confused as to why she wasn’t crying at this point.

“Why not?” he gruffly asked her back, tightening his grip on her slightly to make her cough and then take in a deep breath.

“You’re not a killer. You’re a thief.” she simply stated and she almost smiled, to prove her point, but he simply said, “Well then maybe I’ll steal your life.”

Horror actually passed through her when she heard his statement and his grip tightened even more, causing her to try and cough but that only irritated her throat even more.

His eyes were cold and sadistic, her eyes rolling back as her air supply was getting cut off and right when she was about to pass out, she heard Frankie yell something, only to have the man’s hand get ripped from her throat while he stomped up the stairs.

She coughed a few times and tried to swallow the small bit of saliva that she was able to produce before she asked Frankie what he said.

“I told him that he needed you and you would be nothing of value dead.” and with that, he looked away and licked at his bleeding lip, wincing slightly at the pain.