The Price of Love

         Why had she ever fallen in love with him? From the moment he entered her life, she had sensed something sinister belying his dark, chiseled features and easy smile. If he had told her about his life to begin with, she never would have gotten involved. Over the five months of their love affair, she began to piece together the source of her unease – late-night meetings with “clients”; phone calls that ended abruptly as she walked into the room; locked briefcases stacked neatly in the closets of constantly-changing hotel rooms. She should have left, should have told someone about her suspicions, but it was too late now.
         The men pulled up behind her in a black sedan as she pulled into a parking place at the mall. One jumped out, grabbed her and before she could even scream, they were off. She saw some people staring after the car, even pulling out cell phones, but another black car had already pulled up. Badges were being flashed, explanations made. They would cover it up with official mumbo-jumbo, and other than a few conversations at dinnertime, the matter would be forgotten.
         As she sat in the small room, bloodied and bruised from the prolonged torture session, one of her captors stood over her, a syringe of thick, blue liquid in his hand. His face showed no emotion.
         “This is your last warning, Ms. Thomas. Either you tell us where he is, or things are about to get very unpleasant.”
         Why had she fallen in love with him? It didn't matter now. All that mattered was that she had fallen for him, hard. She gave a joyless, broken-toothed smile.
         “Go to hell...”

Word Count: 283