Filthy

3. Anabelle-1

AnabelleAfter the cops came and broke everything up, I was finally able to get a few hours of sleep in my own bed. I'd texted Michelle and let her know I was staying home, to which she responded,

“Boo. I was looking forward to our slumber party. Another time?”

Of course I didn't see the message until I woke up the next morning because I'd passed the hell out as soon as I climbed back into my bed. I didn't like the idea of calling the cops and dragging them out there and into this mess. I knew they had their hands full in town. With all the biker gangs coming into our little town and making it a home, crime had gone up a bit. More than a bit, it seemed.

The bikers who belonged to the blonde-haired giant surprisingly didn't seem like the type to cause trouble, though. All they seemed to do was make some noise and let off some steam. It was rude and as obnoxious as hell and never failed to piss me off, but on the scale of terrible things bikers tended to do, it was pretty mild.

But the ones who'd showed up later to meet with them – the rough looking Latino ones – those guys gave me the serious creeps. Especially their leader. The way he'd looked at me, had stared at me like I was a piece of meat sent chills down my spine. It still did just thinking about it.

My alarm went off way too soon for my liking, and I hit snooze a few too many times. When I rolled over and looked at the clock, it said 7:20. I had to be at work by eight. Which meant I had to hurry. Like really hurry.

Climbing out of bed, I remembered I'd packed a work outfit in my backpack thinking that I would just leave straight from Michelle's place. I unzipped it, reached inside and the first thing I felt wasn't clothing.

It was a bag. A plastic bag. Which piqued my curiosity since I hadn't packed anything in plastic bags.

Pulling it out, I held it in my hand for a second and just stared at it.

“Huh,” I said out loud as I examined it.

I was completely perplexed by what I was seeing at first. It wasn't a clear bag, so I couldn't see inside of it, but I knew it wasn't mine. It was wrapped tightly in a black bag and had thick bands of duct tape wrapped around it.

Clearly, I hadn't put that bag in my backpack. Somehow, somebody had slipped it in there during m confrontation with the dirtbags last night. And since they'd stashed it on me while I was unaware, I didn’t need to see through the bag to know what was inside of it. As I continued to look at it, my heart started to race and a knot formed in the pit of my stomach. I'd seen enough crime shows on TV to know what I held in my hand was likely very illegal and probably very expensive. The only question that remained was how in the hell had it ended up in my bag?

There were a few possibilities – all of them leading back to the blonde man and his merry band of thugs. It had to have happened last night while I'd been in the parking lot because there was no way I'd have a pound or so of drugs in my possession otherwise. My blood boiled as I recalled the events from last night. I'd been distracted when the cops pulled up. I'd had somebody – one of the leader's boys – in my face, accusing me of calling them and then somebody grabbed me. I'd been distracted and that had been a prime time for some asshole – namely the Head Asshole – to drop it in my bag to save himself and his gang.

Did he care if the cops had searched me and found it? Obviously not. I could have been arrested and charged with a crime. A serious one, at that. But did I expect sympathy from the same guys who kept me up night after night? No way.

My blood was boiling. Knowing them and having seen enough TV to know certain things, I knew they'd have to get this back somehow. Which meant I'd be seeing them again. Probably tonight, same time, same place – my parking lot. Well, I'd be ready for them. And I was going to give that leader a piece of my mind for putting me at risk. I wasn't one to call the cops, but, after this, they better realize they were messing with the wrong girl.

I had to get to work though, no time to plan out my revenge now. Tucking the bag of drugs high up in my closet and then putting a bunch of clothes on top of it, I grabbed my work clothes and headed for the shower. I knew they'd be back for them, and when they were, I was going to be ready.