It's All A Matter of Leverage

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A/N oh boy guys

have fun with this one

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*Kaitlyn MacDonald*

Swallowing any doubts that pop into my head, I head over to where Asher is sitting and slide into the chair across from him.

"Kaitlyn," he blinks, seemingly taken by surprise. "What a pleasure. What brings you to my table?"

"Cut the chitchat. Where's Beth, and what happened to her?" My hands fidget, and I still them by twisting around the bracelets on my wrist.

"Oh, of course. Mack called you, did he?" When I nod, Asher places both elbows on the table and folds his hands. "When Beth fell, Mack called an ambulance. There was a doctor here dining with her husband, so she administered first aid to Beth to try and stabilize her condition. Mack saw me, and came over to me after he called you. He told me to wait for you, so that I could tell you what happened."

During Asher's recounting of Beth's injury, my head starts spinning and my heart racing. I know how serious head injuries can be, and coupled with the fact that it's my best friend, I can't think straight.

"Mack. Did he go with Beth to the hospital?" I gasp out, trying to calm down. I've already lost one important person in my life; I'm not about to lose another.

"Yes, he did. In fact, he even said that I should drive you there so you could be with her. I don't think it's a good idea for you to drive right now. Kaitlyn, you're shaking."

He's right. My hands are shaking, badly, I might add, and I can't seem to get them to stop.

"O-okay, yeah. I think that's a good idea. Let's go now." I rise, shouldering my purse as I wait for Asher to get out of his own seat. We walk out of the restaurant together, the host telling us to have a good night.

I frown. "Asher, why am I the only person freaking out about Beth's injury?"

He shrugs. "The restaurant staff want to keep it professional, because they don't want to lose business. As for everyone else, would you want your nice dinner ruined because somebody slipped and had to go to the ER?"

I fall silent in understanding.

Asher unlocks his car, and holds open the passenger door for me. I climb in, noting the leather seats.

"This is a really nice car," I comment as Asher starts the engine.

"Yeah, I know," he chuckles, maneuvering the car out of the parking lot. "It used to be my grandpa's car, before he passed away. He left it to me in his will."

"That's...nice," I say.

"Isn't it?"

<.>

The whole car ride, I stare down at my hands, afraid that if I look at Asher or out the window, we might not make it to the hospital because of some distraction.

When I feel the car stop, my head shoots up, but when I look at our surroundings, my brows furrow.

"Asher," I start, clutching my bag protectively. "This isn't the hospital."

"Oh, you're right," he grins, but the grin is a maniacal one. "This isn't the hospital. But you're going to come inside with me anyway."

"What makes you think I'm getting out of this car?" I ask, slyly unlocking my phone to call for help.

Asher draws something out of his pocket, and I freeze when I hear a click.

"I think this might convince you."

I get out of the car, phone hidden in my sweatshirt pocket. Asher grabs my purse from my shoulder, leaving me with only my shoes, leggings, a baggy t-shirt, and the hoodie concealing my phone. Shivering in the cold wind, I watch as Asher threatens me with one hand and dumps my purse out onto the ground with the other.

"Phone. Where is it?" he growls. I shrug innocently.

"In my purse. Where else would it be?"

"Don't play this game right now, Kaitlyn. It's obviously not in your purse, otherwise there would be a shattered iPhone on the concrete. So I'm going to ask you again. Where is your phone?"

I keep quiet.

"So be it." He moves closer to me, his gun trained on my torso. "Strip. Take your hoodie off."

"No."

"Kaitlyn, I'm warning you. Would you rather be dead or cold?"

Well, technically if I'm dead, I would also be cold, but I don't think that's what he's going for.

"Cold," I sigh, trying to think of a way to take off my hoodie and hide my phone at the same time. Slowly, I pull my arms out of the sleeves, but before I can work the hoodie off my body, Asher yanks the hood up and pulls it off my body, leaving me in nothing but my t-shirt as protection for my upper body against the weather, and phoneless.

Rooting through the pockets, Asher grins triumphantly when he finds my phone.

"Password."

"What?"

"Your phone's password. Give it to me, or I'll shoot." When I don't answer, he shakes his head. "I'm not doing this again. I will shoot you."

"4812," I sigh, giving up. The more I comply, the less reasons he'll have to shoot me.

Right?

He smirks, but it's not a playful smirk like Drew used to give me. In fact, Asher's is rather frightening.

"Now, come on. There's still a lot to do, and you are only the second step."

"Then what was the first one?" I question, intrigued.

"Why, Mack faking Beth's injury to get you out here, of course." My jaw drops. "Get inside. I can't have you freezing to death. It's all a matter of leverage, as it were."

Asher motions to the door with the gun, and I comply, stepping inside the poorly lit building. My mind reels with the information just divulged to me, and I almost can't believe it.

"Then, where's Beth, if she's really okay?" I can't help but ask, watching as Asher shuts and locks the door behind us, effectively trapping me inside.

"They're getting froyo. Duh."

"That literally makes no sense."

"I know, but Mack knows Beth has a weakness for froyo. Anyways, he wasn't even planning on hooking up with her after the dinner."

Ugh. Today started out so simple, and now there's all this new information, new clues streaming through my brain. When did the world become so confusing?

Asher grabs my arm, forcing me through a door and down some stairs. Once at the bottom of 28 steps (I counted), Asher unlocks a door, shoves me through, and shuts it behind me. I hear the click of a lock, and sink to the floor.

I'm trapped.

*Drew McCarthy*

After Kaitlyn left, Jordan and I resumed playing Mario Kart, with Peyton commenting at unhelpful times.

"Drew, you missed the mushroom."

"Drew, there's a red koopa shell- oh, it already hit you."

"Drew, you're in third place and Baby Bowser is about to pass you."

"Peyton," I say, focused on the race. "Are you trying to be helpful? Because if so, please stop."

"Fine," she grumps, throwing a pillow at me. "Just trying to ease the tension."

"Babe, what are you talking about?" Jordan comments. "There is no tension. We're playing Mario Kart."

"My point exactly," she replies, stuffing another handful of popcorn in her face. What a catch for Jordan.

About half an hour after Kaitlyn left, we order a couple of pizzas. While waiting, Peyton decides to start a game of truth or dare.

Jordan and I very reluctantly play.

"Jordan, truth or dare?" His girlfriend asks.

"Hmm," he pretends to think. "Dare."

"I dare you to order me a pizza."

"Peyton!" he cries. "I already ordered you a pizza. It's on its way right now!"

"Oh, yeah," she pouts, settling back into her seat. "Then, I dare you to put three ice cubes down your pants."

"Woman," Jordan sighs, hauling himself off the couch. "You're lucky we're dating." He walks into the kitchen and comes right back out, three ice cubes in his hand. Sitting back down on the couch, he sends a pleading glance at his girlfriend.

"Do it now," Peyton calls out. "Before they melt anymore in your hand."

With a grimace on his face, Jordan pulls on the waistband of his gray sweats and drops the ice in. His face is normal for a few seconds, until the ice makes itself known.

"Agh!" Jordan lets out a shriek, then immediately covers his mouth, looking at me in horror.

"Go, Jordan!" I mock cheer, raising a fist into the air. "I didn't know you could make those kinds of sounds. But Peyton probably already does, doesn't she?"

The two of them blush, and I laugh at the looks on their faces.

"Chill, I was just messing around." I defend myself from Jordan's glare.

"Oh, I'm sure," he shoots back, shifting uncomfortably on the couch. Peyton just laughs.

We get through a few more rounds (did you know that Peyton can play the tuba? I certainly didn't) before my phone goes off.

Pulling it out of my pocket, I check the caller, only to drop the phone in surprise when I see Kaitlyn's name on the screen.

"Drew, you good?" Jordan calls, concerned.

"Yeah," I manage to choke out, internally freaking out. "I'm fine. Just caught me a little by surprise."

Picking my phone back up, I answer the call.

"Kaitlyn?"

"Nope, try again," comes a voice from the phone.

"Who is this?"

"Your worst nightmare."

"Asher."

"Bingo."

Jordan and Peyton are looking at me with curious facial expressions, so I excuse myself and walk into the hallway.

"What are you doing with Kaitlyn's phone? Where are you?"

"Only a couple blocks from Clearwater," he laughs sadistically.

"And Kaitlyn?" I ask.

"Currently locked in a basement underneath me, in the building where it happened." I can practically hear his smirk.

That f*cker! How dare he?

"And why might you have her?" I grit my teeth, keeping a calm front.

"You know why. She's my leverage, my revenge for that night. Through her, you will make reparations for what you almost did to Mack, what you almost did to me, what you did do to Austin."

"How could I forget, when you remind me of it every single time I see you?"

"Fair enough. Now, Drew, listen very carefully. I am fully prepared to hurt your girlfriend to get what I want."

I laugh in spite of myself. "You're such an idiot. Kaitlyn isn't my girlfriend. At least, not anymore."

"Oh, that's right," his conniving voice worms into my ear. "Mind if I make a move then? After all, she was my childhood best friend. Not sure I could say the same now, though."

"Keep your f*cking hands away from her. I'm coming."

"I'll be waiting."

Asher hangs up the phone, and I'm left with the low buzz of Kaitlyn's answering machine.

"Jordan? Peyton?" I say, walking back into the room where they're situated. "Something came up. I have to go."

As I drive to the building where I know Asher is keeping Kaitlyn, my hands clench the steering wheel so tightly that my knuckles turn white.

If Asher hurts Kaitlyn in any way, he'll have me to answer to.

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A/N please don't kill me

-i made puppy chow today


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