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"You throw up in here, and I'll make you eat it!" the figure in black snarled.
Kacie blinked against the pain, gasping, "Migraine. Bad."
Ski Mask watched her without pity. "So take two aspirin and call me in the morning."
"Lighten up," Nixon's bass voice rumbled. "She ain't sick on purpose." The large man set down the videocamera and walked around to the front of the computer stand. "I'll take her to the bathroom."
A black-gloved hand reached out and slapped the rubber-masked face. "What is there about this woman that turns every man she meets into Sir Galahad?"
{She knows me?} The idea tickled the back of Kacie's mind, but the pain in her head blocked any efforts at concentrated thought.
"Listen, Babe, you told me we had a simple catch and snatch here and then some computer hacking. Why get so worked up over her?" He pulled the woman into his arms. "You need something to calm you down. What say I lock her in the bathroom, and we go someplace where I can take care of you?"
"Who is gonna take care of who?" Ski Mask fended off Nixon's hands half-heartedly. "You're only after one thing."
"Actually, I had more than one thing in mind." The two bodies melded together, Kacie's presence seemingly forgotten. "You did bring my favorite toy with you, didn't you? Oh, Baby, the way you make that leather talk!"
"I might have," Ski Mask grunted as she rubbed herself against the growing bulge in Nixon's pants. "What have you got for me in return?"
"New stuff, fresh from the kitchen. I'll take care of little mom here, and meet you upstairs."
"Don't make me wait for you. You know how I hate to wait."
"Go ahead and start without me. I've heard the way that leather makes you sing, too."
The pair laughed at their shared joke, and Ski Mask turned to leave, after grabbing Nixon's crotch and giving it a farewell twist, causing him to shout in pain and pleasure.
Kacie lay shivering, trying not to throw up from the agony of her headache and her revulsion at the ribald display of her captors. Nixon grabbed her arm and hauled her to unsteady feet, where she stood swaying.
Ski Mask was staring at her, speculating, evaluating. "What the hell does Caine see in you?" Turning to her partner, she suggested, "Maybe you should warm up with her, and then tell me just what it is that she's got that makes her so desirable."
Nixon considered the idea, turning a lustful gaze Kacie's way.
{Oh, God! Oh, God! What do I do?} The pounding in Kacie's head went from solo bass drum to timpani chorus as unwelcome hands began to grope her breasts and buttocks before snaking down between her legs. She struggled in Nixon's arms until her body took care of the situation and she abruptly vomited on the man.
"Aw-w, Gaw-wd!" He shoved her away, and examined the mess on himself in disgust, all thoughts of passion chased from his brain.
Ski Mask laughed hysterically and sneered, "Serves you right, Mr. White Knight. Lock her in the bathroom and come find me. I'll show you what a real woman can do."
She started to walk away, calling over her shoulder. "And lose the clothes. You reek."
Nixon clamped his hand around Kacie's arm with bruising force and dragged her out the door and down the narrow hallway, barely letting her feet touch the floor. "Come on, you. Jesus, do you do this all the time?"
"I'm sick," Kacie's teeth chattered. "I told you I was sick, and you said you were going to help me."
"Ya didn't have to get sick all over me," he snapped. "And don't bother asking me for water again. You can drink outta the toilet for all I care."
"I'll dehydrate. I'll get a kidney infection," Kacie rattled on desperately. "You'll make me poison my baby. I lost a baby this past year. Please don't make it happen again. Please. I helped you when I thought you needed it."
Her petitions fell on deaf ears, as Nixon opened the now familiar door and thrust her inside, locking the portal behind her.
Kacie sank into a trembling heap on the floor, curling into a ball and pressing her palms to her throbbing temples. Pinpoints of light flashed behind her eyes until a final supernova exploded and all faded to black.
Some time later, consciousness returned, and as she weakly propped herself up on one elbow, her bleary eyes focused on a six-pack of bottled water sitting just inside the door. "Thank you," she whispered in the silence. "Thank you." She opened a bottle and sipped from it as tears trailed slowly down her cheeks.
Rubbing her hand across her stomach, she spoke aloud, her voice choked with tears. "Don't you worry, Baby. Your daddy is looking for us. He'll find us. You'll see. He'll come for us."