Masked
Emmerson Gram grabs her coat and exits the apartment, following the sound of repetitive honking. She races down the stairs to see that it is her own car honking.
“What the Hell?” she says to herself. The car stops honking and the passenger window rolls down, revealing a rather cheerful Roger sitting in the driver’s seat. “Roger? What are you doing in my car?”
“Well, good to see you too, Miss Gram.”
“Please... It’s just Emmerson.” Roger chuckles to himself. “What are you doing in my car?” Emmerson repeats.
“I thought I would surprise you.” Roger says with a sly undertone.
“What’s the occasion?” Roger slides her a bitch face.
“Do you not know what day it is?”
“No, I don’t think I do.”
“It is officially as of right now, one year since we met.”
“And you came here to celebrate it?”
“Of course. We saved the world. Together!”
“Roger, I really appreciate the gesture but you really shouldn’t be here right now.” Emmerson looks back up to her apartment.
“Why’s that?” Roger looks there too. Emmerson brings her attention back to Roger with a sigh.
“I have company, that’s all.” Emmerson looks back.
“What kind of company?” Roger looks at her, worried. He recieves silence in return from his old friend. “Emmerson, who’s up there? If I have to kill anyone to keep you safe, I will.”
“You should really go.” She looks back at him, panicked.
“I am not going until you tell me what is going on.”
“Roger, please... Take my car. Go. And don’t come back.”
“I am not going without you.” Roger puts his foot down.
“Go! Please...” Now, tears are streaming down her face, smearing her mascara. Roger follows her order, finally. A few blocks away, Roger watches as Emmerson goes back into the apartment building. He watches, patiently waiting for the lights to go out, and drives back over. Roger reaches inside the glove compartment, grabbing one of her sprays, and sprays it. He breathes it in, shakes his head because of it’s strength and departs from the car. His hand hovers over the hand, debating on entering, and swings it open, rushing up the stairs. He picks the lock of the apartment he assumed she was in and sneaks inside. He takes one step inside and falls to the floor, unconcious.
Roger wakes in a dark, dusty room. An old ceiling fan circles the humid air. He groans, the back of his head, pulsing in pain.
“Emmerson?” he rasps. Roger struggles against the ropes, nearly knocking over his chair. Someone puts a hand on his shoulder.
“Not quite.” He turns his head to see a pretty blond woman. “Name’s Jess. I assume Em told you about me.”
“Why do you have me tied up? I’m not dating her.”
“But you like her.” She points a knife at his throat.
“Yeah, so? Wait... How did you know that? We haven’t even met before today.”
“Do I look stupid to you?” Jess slashes his gut.
“No, you’re clearly smart.” Roger tells her, hoping that would please her and she’d let him go but she slashes him again... On his cheek. “Please... Whatever it is you need, I can give it to you. I promise. Just let me go, okay.”
“Oh, I don’t know about that.” Jess steps away.
“What are you planning?” Jess smiles, exiting the room. Roger panicks. “Don’t you dare hurt Emmerson, you hear me?!”
