I was worried because Greg had been out cold for over an hour before I finally heard him groan and move around a bit. He was on the couch where Steve had bound him up and left him.

“Greg...Greg...Greg.” I whispered, trying to make sure Steve--- who was pacing inside the nearby kitchen--- didn’t hear me.

Greg’s eyes opened and I watched as he made a few attempts at focusing before he knew it was me.

“What the hell?” He said, trying to lift a hand. “Why can’t I move?”

“Listen, Greg...” But before I could go any further, Steve was back.

“Shut up, faggot.” He barked at me, chugging a Molson. I wondered how many beers I had left in my fridge.

“Steve...?” mumbled Greg. I was worried what he was about to say because I didn’t want to watch Steve smash that bottle across Greg’s face. Greg paused, realizing what he was dealing with, then continued with “Nice to see you.”

My worried eyes stayed on our captor. He was getting closer and closer to the edge and the more we talked about the money and my inability to get it, the more I realized he had sacrificed everything for nothing. There was no turning back.

“Steve, may I speak?” He didn’t respond, so I continued. “Perhaps I can’t get you Hillary’s money, but maybe I can get other money.”

Of course this peaked his interest. Greg moaned that his head hurt, but he was ignored.

“How the hell can you get me what money?”

“Well, I was thinking, I could get a couple of hundred from my ATM and Greg can get some, which would be enough for you to get out of town and then I could withdraw a few thousand at a time from Hillary’s account and send it to you.”

“You make one more suggestion as lame as that and I’ll kill you on the spot. Now I got to take a piss. Neither of you say a damn word.”

Once he was gone Greg whispered, “What’s he gonna kill you with? He got a gun?”

“No. A speculum.”

“A what?”

It was too long a story to try to explain (and bizarre). “Never mind, but if he wanted me dead I’m sure he’d have done it by now. We just got to figure how to get the hell out of here before he changes his mind.”

“You think...”

“I think it’s on his mind constantly. Can you get up?”

“I think I could roll myself off the couch.” Suddenly he froze, seeing the phone on the nearby end table. “Is that phone connected?”

“Yeah, he keeps calling the time; he doesn’t trust my clocks.”

“Has he slept?”

“No, not even tired.”

“He will be, eventually. And that’s when we make our move.”

Just then Steve came back in the room with his pants undone.

He stood in front of me, “This is what you want, ain’t it?” I tried to see Greg, but was blocked completely by Steve’s torso. The bulge in Steve’s underwear was swelling. “I’m not gay, you know,” he barked.

“I know that.” I insisted.

Suddenly, I thought about how I wanted him before but now the fantasy was repulsive. I could only see evil in his eyes, possessed by violence, and I realized he had the potential to kill us both.

He stepped closer to me, removing his briefs.

I opened my mouth. I could only hope this would finally make him sleep.