Drugs, Money & Kidnap

By Crystal Tarling

A collection of short stories on drug running; money laundering; human trafficking, kidnapping and running from danger - interwoven with romance.

 

Each story is different and unique.

 

A woman is grabbed off the street and kept for years, being raped.  She eventually escapes and helps others to get her capturer arrested.

 

An investigative reporter is involved in shutting down drug rings - and they are after her blood!

 

A lawyer is attacked in her home and flees.  Her associate is in hospital after a car accident - which was no accident!

 

She manages to escape from her abusive partner and takes lots of evidence with her.  He is out to find her - by any means!

 

A man in a pub, is watching ... Follow this touching story to its conclusion! 

• Language: English
• Publisher: Crystal Tarling
• Release date: Jan 21, 2021
• ISBN: 9781393136033

Crystal Tarling

I was adopted as young baby and had a wonderful life full of adventure and imagination.  Stories come naturally to me.

Book preview

I probably should have stayed there with Dylan. It was cold and I was not really dressed for it, but I was so cross that I just kept walking. A car kept driving past and I should have noticed but I was mulling over our argument in my head. The next thing I knew, I was grabbed and my mouth was clamped by a large hand and I was thrown into the car and it sped off.  I could not open the door and besides, they were going too fast for me to jump out. I screamed until I could scream no more and the man flat handed me across the mouth. Shut up for goodness sake. You are giving me a headache!

We drove for about another twenty minutes and turned into a small road and drove into the hills. Once the car stopped, I was grabbed and dragged into the house.  I was taken to a room and locked in.  That was the beginning of the end. I hid my fanny pack and tiny digital camera which had been under my clothes. From that day on, I was fed and given water or tea and I am sure I was drugged. I saw few people. After a week or so, I was taken out and shown to a bathroom and given clean clothes. I was told to get clean and dressed as Mr G wanted to see me.

From that day on, I was abused and raped repeatedly by one man only, Mr G. Later I saw other women and we were sometimes together. They were also kidnapped and suffered the same fate. We were always told that we would be severely punished or maimed if we tried to escape. I lost count of the days, then the weeks and then the months and years.

I know I was there for years and continually planned my escape. One day, I got the opportunity and took it with both hands. I made it out and stole a car and drove like a bat out of hell. I took very little with me – I only really had my fanny pack, camera and I took some of the clothes they provided me with and the toiletries. I also stole a huge bundle of cash from his office.

I drove around and hid my things and stole a bicycle. I drove a little way out of the town towards the cliffs and set fire to the car and pushed it over at speed by putting a thin but strong piece of wood which I knew would burn away, on the gas pedal and jumping out.  The car hurtled over the cliff and bounced far down right near the sea and burnt out.  I got on the bicycle and pedalled away. I had disguised myself as best I could. I had stolen other clothes and sunglasses and made myself look highly pregnant.

I went to the next town and bought a car cash using Martha’s power of attorney and copies of her ID which were still in my purse. I claimed to be her sister and I had no problem. I drove away from there and drove from town to town, staying short periods and hardly sleeping. I ventured into an internet café and sent Dylan and Jack encrypted e-mails – well, I sent both to Dylan as he could break the code we used as teenagers and send it on to Jack.

I saw in the paper that they had discovered the burnt out wreck of the car but no body.  The police assumed I had fallen into the sea as no one could have survived that accident. They closed the case. I breathed a sigh of relief. After about a month of driving around and hiding, I remembered a remote cottage we used to go to as children. My brother and Dylan were best friends and we all spent a lot of time there. We lived about ten miles from there and cycled there regularly. We all spent so much time there, how could I have forgotten it?

I drove there and hid out.  I was there for about 3 months before I started to relax and move around the forest. I drove into town and bought a laptop. I had found my old data stick in the cottage and there were stories I had written when I was younger. I went over them and one resonated and the words started to flow again.  I spent my days walking around and writing most nights.

One day, I went into the forest as usual to find mushrooms. Something was wrong and I felt uneasy.  I kept looking over my shoulder.  I had this feeling I was being followed and I was alone out here in the forest and it was getting darker. It felt awful. As soon as I was near the cottage I broke into a run. I reached the door and fumbled the handle and managed to get in and shot the bolt on the door. I turned on the light and screamed.

He jumped up off the chair and was wide awake. Shit, Luna, is that the way to greet me after so long? I am exhausted and was fast asleep.

How the hell did you get in? In fact, how the hell did you find me? I fumed.

"Well, hello to you too! You just disappeared off the