Rescue - Roman Godfrey

Chapter 29

The next day, I felt like absolute shit. I had a really bad headache and I threw up a couple of times. Thankfully, I didn't have to work so I was able to roll out of bed and not even worry about getting ready. Peter called and asked me to hang out, so I headed to Destiny's house.

When I get there, Peter is on his laptop, searching for different places with biplanes that hang advertising banners. 

"Peter," I say when he gets off the phone with a company. "What do you need a biplane for?" 

"I had another dream," he tells me, crossing off a number from his list. "I'm just trying to put the pieces together."

"So, in your dream, you see a banner and...?"

"A little boy," he finishes for me. "He is riding his bike down a street and some van is coming for him." 

I arch my eyebrows slightly. "A little boy? What would a little boy have to do with any of this?" 

"I have no idea," Peter sighs. "But, I know something is going to happen."

"What about the trailer park? Have you had any more dreams revolving that creepy place?" 

He shifts in his seat uncomfortably. "Actually, I went back the next day and the lady with the gun, uh, she was killed."

My eyes widen in shock. "The lady with the cute little girl?" 

"Yeah, she was shot in the head." 

"Oh my God," I shake my head. I felt horrible for the family, especially the little girl. She was without a mother now, and I only hoped she had someone good to take care of her.

There was a loud bang on the door. Confused, Peter and I look each other. There is another loud bang before the door is flung open. Two large men with baseball bats walk in and Peter and I immediately stand up. He pushes me behind him. 

"You ass raped us, you fucking little fuck!" The scrawny man shouts, hitting the vinyl with his bat. 

The other guy walks toward Peter. "How'd you do it? You got mirrors in here, some shit like that?" 

"Peter, what are they talking about?" I ask, clenching his arm tightly. 

"This isn't a good time, guys," Peter mumbles. 

"We want our goddamn money back," he hisses, the bat pointing directly toward his chest. I felt scared and adrenaline was pumping rapidly throughout my body. What money were they talking about?

The other guy looks around. "Where's the dog? I know there was a dog. You can't fake that kind of realism."

"He's at the vet," Peter replies bluntly. 

Suddenly, the guy jumps forward, pushing us back. Peter hits the table and I feel helpless. The wooden bat is against his throat, the mans face red with anger. 

"I said I don't have it!" 

The guy drops the bat and hits Peter in the stomach. I scream and rush to go over to his side, but the scrawny dude grabs my arm. 

"Nope, you get to sit and watch your friend get his ass beat, princess," the guy chuckles lowly and I feel like throwing up as his fingers graze my cheek. 

"Don't fucking touch her!" Peter threatens, trying to stand up. 

"Where is it?!" The man yells. 

"Okay, okay," Peter slowly leans forward, his hand against his stomach. "I'll tell you exactly where it is. I took it and I gave it to an attorney to get someone out of a jam. All of it. And it's not coming back. So, you can beat the shit out of me, but you're still not gonna get it."