[center][h3]The Perils of Abigail Travis, Part 2 - “Good Cop”[/h3][/center] [center][img]https://i.imgur.com/ra4xUSt.jpg[/img] [/center] Headhunters MC artwork supplied by [@wanderingwolf] She hurt all over. Didn’t seem like nothin’s broke, but ‘er whole body ached from the last poundin’. Some woman…’Nips’...done put a stop tah things awhile back. And so here she was, all pulled up into a ball on a mattress smelt ‘o’ piss. Skin on ‘er face was all tight feelin’ and what’s underneath throbbed an’ throbbed. But pain was pain. Can’t work a boat all yer life an’ not get somethin’ all clocked an’ swole up. Worst part was that bag the put over her head. Not so much itself, though burlap is powerful itchy after a spell. For Abby, the thing was tha bag’s meanin’. They took the sight from ‘er, an’ left her alone, tied down to a mattress. Layin’ there as she was, weren’t nothin’ left but for her thinkin’...wonderin’ ‘bout what comes next. Were they gon’ beat ‘er some more? Mabbe rape ‘er? Worse? “Cap’n ain’t gon’ let that happen.” She whispered them words. They give ‘er no comfort, ‘cept fer jest knowin’ she weren’t all lost inside herself. [i]I’m still here,[/i] some little part ‘o’ her spoke, [i]and Cap’n is comin’ for me. I conjure Pen’s got them throttles pushed so hard they’ll surely bend. Pen’s comin’,[/i] she tole herself as tears took their hold upon ‘er. [i]Pen’s comin’...[/i] Each sob got ‘er that much angrier. Abby weren’t one fer cryin’. Time she got all teary eyed with Cap’n over a poor bargain she struck still chapped ‘er hide a skosh. But now she couldn’t see, she had no sense ‘o’ time passed, an’ whatever this boat was, it’s full ‘o’ folk don’t do nothin’ but hurt ‘er. Fer what they done so far an’ what that Root fella said about Hook, she had a fair notion they’s gon’ kill ‘er when they got what they wanted. [i]Two for one,[/i] Uncle Bob once tole her how gangs worked their paybacks. And that just brung more tears. Sound ‘o’ that door comin’ open made ‘er stiffen up. She could hear one pair ‘o’ boot heels walkin’ the deck. A clink to the table tole her somethin’ got put down, and then, them boot heels come right up behind her. Abby braced ‘erself, whether for a blow or tah be snatched up an’ tossed into tha chair, she couldn’t conjure. What she never woulda thunk was what happened next. A hand touched her, layin’ gentle upon her shoulder. “Hey kid.” It’s that woman, her they called Nips. “How you keepin’?” “Tolerable.” She cursed ‘erself fer tha tremor in ‘er voice. “I brought you some food,” the voice said, “and something to drink. That sound good to you?” Yeah, that sounded real good. Good enough tah milk a few more tears. “I gotta pee,” Abby replied. “Let me help you.” She felt hands at ‘er belt, then her denims an’ unders bein’ tugged down to tha knees. “Sorry,” Nips said as she boosted Abby up. “You gotta use a bucket.” Once the business was done, her clothes was hauled back up afore she’s guided all gentle like inta tha chair. Hands come down on either side ‘er head, and for the first time in she didn’t kin how long, she’s freed from that gorram bag. She knew ‘er face was all wet, good eye red from cryin’ and the rest one big bruise under hair gone wild, but sight of a PB and J with a glass ‘o’ water struck away all sense ‘o’ shame. “Oh, thank yew,” Abby’s thirst set her tah wantin’ that water somethin’ fierce. “Can I have muh hands?” “In just a minute.” The plate and glass were pulled across the table. “I just need your help with something.” The biker rested her hips against the table’s edge. “Your boat…China Doll,” she said. “How many gun hands do you carry?” “What?” Abby looked up like this was crazy talk. “Why?” “Look, kid,” she leaned forward, her voice a conspiratorial whisper. “I’m playing it straight with you. I only get a few minutes to get them what they want. Help me out,” she laid that gentle hand on Abby’s shoulder again, “and I can make the rest of this go easy for you. My name’s Rene. What’s yours?” “Thought yer name was Nips.” “That’s my club name,” the woman chuckled, gesturing toward her ample bosom. “Boys will be boys, right? You got a boyfriend?” “Yeah,” the hostage gazed upon the distant food and water. “Name ‘o’ Cottonmouth. He don’t treat me right.” “And that’s what I’m trying to stop,” Nips’ expression was earnest as she reached for a capture pic. “This guy,” she pointed toward Hook, “is who we want. You see that guy he’s punching? After the bouncers kicked them out, we found him dead in the alley. Your friend here turned his face into a chili bowl.” She let the picture hang before Abby’s eye. “Just give me a name. His, yours, I don’t care where you start.” Abby shook her head. “Sorry. Don’t know ‘im.” Nips folded her arms and sighed. “Don’t [i]la shi[/i] me, kid. We saw him, loading our cargo on China Doll with another guy, a tall man who looked to be in charge.” “I dunno. I’m jest a deckhand. They’s a dime a dozen. I conjure they didn’t see me come loadin’ time, Cap’n hired that fella off tha yard.” “Cal Strand,” Nips interjected. “Yeah.” “What’s your name?” “Why’s that matter?” She could hear tha spy from them capture vids talkin’. [color=FFD700]”...your interrogators will shift tactics to build trust. A ‘good cop’ will offer food, drink, and kinder treatment. They’ll play upon your sympathies. The longer you resist, the longer you live…”[/color] “Because you’ve got to give me something,” Nips gestured with open, beseeching palms. “If I don’t take them some scrap, some little thing to show progress, they’re gonna send Cottonmouth back in here, and [i]mei mei[/i], he is raring to go. No food, no water, no pee breaks,” she urged. “Just whatever he feels like doin’ to make you give up the guy who killed our brother!” Abby’s body betrayed ‘er with a bout of deep, wracking sobs. “Don’t know ‘im,” her voice quavered as she bowed ‘er head. “Don’t know ‘im…” The biker sighed in open disgust. “I’m wasting my time.” She straightened, her voice gone cold as she turned away. “Guess I’ll tell Cottonmouth you’re all his…” “W-wait,” Abby wept. “Ple…please. Muh name,” she stammered all about as ‘er body spasmed, “Abby. Name’s Abby.” “And what’s his name?” Nips demanded. “SAY IT!” The girl’s hair hung down, hidin’ her face as she slumped forward. Twixt tha sobbin’ an’ her havin’ trouble speakin, tha answer come out as a tiny little squeak of a whisper. “What was that, Abby?” Nips asked, her voice resuming gentleness as she leaned in. “Would you say it again?” “It’s…h..h..hard,” the deckhand cried. “Hard tah…tell it…” The interrogator draped an arm over the girl’s heaving shoulders. “It’s alright. It’s alright,” she soothed. “All you have to do is whisper it,” her own voice dropped to a sisterly affection. Nips drew closer. “Just whisper his name into my ear, Abby. That’s all you’ve gotta do…AAAAAAAAGH!” She jerked away, driven by reflex as she landed a punch to Abby’s ribs. Nips staggered backward, a hand cupping her ear. [i]”Làn xiǎo biǎo zi!”[/i] The woman hiked a leg, landing a kick to Abby’s chest that sent both hostage and chair tumbling backward. “My ear!” she raged as blood from the wound seeped between her fingers. “MY FUCKIN’ EAR!” Abby turnt ‘er head an’ spit out the lobe an’ earring piercin’. “Kin I have that food now?” she asked afore a fresh whuppin’ come rainin’ down.