One of the masked men ripped the duct tape from my mouth.
"AHHHHH SHIT!" It felt like half of my cheeks were ripped away, too.
My pain seemed to have made the woman smile.
"Let me go!"
She looked at one of the men, "Feisty."
"At least let me pee."
She nodded, "That I can let you do." she gestured to the men, and they lifted me by my arms again and took me to the bathroom, my feet gliding above the floor.
They put me down in the bathroom and cut the zip ties around my wrists so I could go, but they stood right behind me. One of them held me by the back of the neck, so I couldn't get away. I didn't like it, but I was too desperate to argue.
Once I finished, they zip-tied my wrists again, but in front of me this time.
"Can you please not make it so tight this time?" I asked quietly, but it didn't feel like they listened. Instead, they lifted me from the floor again and returned me to the woman. This time, they placed me opposite her at a simple kitchen table with a glass of orange juice and a bowl of cereal and milk.
"Did you wash your hands?" she asked me, but before I could say anything, she answered with a wrinkled nose, "I didn't think you would."
I stared at the table but kept my hands on my lap.
"You can eat," she told me.
I lifted my hands and grabbed the glass with both hands, drinking the entire glass in one gulp. I felt some of it dribble down my chin. I put my hands on my lap again.
"What do you want?" I asked her, then glanced at the two men standing near the table, "and why is everyone else wearing masks?"
I had to use all my energy not to cry. I was trying not to act like it, but I was terrified.
"I said you can eat," the woman told me again, her tone a little more unkind. It almost sounded like an order.
I picked up the spoon and began to eat the cereal. It was awkward with my hands tied together, and the first couple of scoops of cereal and milk went onto my shirt before I figured it out.
Meanwhile, she sat watching me from the opposite chair. There wasn't cereal or milk in front of her.
I ate a couple of spoonfuls before I tried again.
"What are you going to do to me? Why aren't you telling me anything? My aunt's going to call the police, you know."
Abruptly, she got up and quickly moved around the table, grabbing my chin and jerking my face toward her. I was so startled I dropped the spoon into the cereal and got splashed again.
"I'm sure she doesn't care, Patrick."
She held my chin and brought her face closer.
"I think you're the most revolting boy we've ever had here. But as I said, some people like seafood."
I was so scared that I only whispered, "What do you mean?"
"Normally, I let a boy live in their own filth for a time before we deliver him. Marinate, you might say. But you're already doing that."
She let go of my chin and sat down again.
"I think we'll send you today."
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