Court Kasie by Bill Gourgey

Author:Bill Gourgey [Gourgey, Bill]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: young adult mystery-thriller
Publisher: Jacked Arts via Indie Author Project
Published: 2017-12-15T00:00:00+00:00

Do You Prefer Catrina?

I twist and writhe in a pathetic attempt to break free of my captor. I have to know if Quincy’s OK. If he would only move an arm or leg—anything! But he doesn’t. He just lies in a heap on the sidewalk. The men who knocked him out stand guard over him and usher a few passersby away. I hear them say something about “a national security matter.”

National security? My mind starts to race. How could that be? We haven’t even done anything illegal yet.

I shake my head free of the hand clamped over my mouth. “Quincy!” I cry, but the hand quickly smothers my whole face, knocking my glasses askew. I catch one last glimpse of the men huddled over Quincy on the sidewalk before my head is forced down. I hear and feel my glasses snap as I’m shoved into the back of the lead SUV. I’m so busy trying to find out what’s happening to Quincy that I don’t even see who’s inside the car.

But I should have guessed.

“This will be a lot easier on everyone if you calm down,” JC says casually. She’s sitting in a luxurious captain chair inside the modified cabin of the SUV, which has a leather bench in the back for the security guards, a closed partition obscuring the driver’s seat, and two other equally luxurious captain chairs. Polished wood paneling surrounds the interior. There’s a small bar with a built-in refrigerator, and overhead, several monitors tuned to various news stations.

The guard stuffs me into a chair across from JC, knocking my glasses to the floor. Without them, I’m almost legally blind. Everything’s an instant blur as the guard straps me in.

JC closes her laptop and sets it on the bar as the SUV roars into traffic on Pennsylvania Avenue. She leans forward to retrieve my glasses.

“These are nice,” she says, examining them. “Expensive. I wonder how you could afford them.”

“Give them back!” I thrust my hand forward, but the security guard nearest me slaps it down.

“That won’t be necessary, Arnold,” JC says to the guard. Then she turns to me, “Will it be, Kasie? Or, do you prefer Catrina?”

I can’t remember the last time someone called me by my real name. Hearing it now, from JC, sends a chill down my spine. What else does she know? But I refuse to show fear.

“I want my glasses.”

“Of course.”

I snatch them from her outstretched hand. With only one temple arm, they’re cockeyed on my face, but at least I can see again.

“If anything’s happened to Quincy—”

JC laughs. It’s the cold, intimidating sound of ice daggers falling and shattering in succession. “I find it admirable that you’re so concerned with his fate.”

“You didn’t need to hurt him like that.” I try to sound defiant even though I’m frightened.

JC turns to the two security guards strapped into the bench at the back of the SUV. “Arnold, see to it that Quincy”—she turns to me as if to verify his name, but doesn’t wait for a response because she knows she’s got it right—“is OK.

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