The bitches strike back

Not seeing anything close enough to use as a wrap, I turned towards the door to the room. If I could claim the brunette and stop her from telling anyone then I would have plenty of time. Hell, she'd probably bandage it for me with a kiss to make it better. With that pleasant thought, I picked up my pace.

In my haste, though, I tripped over a box. I lost my balance and fell forwards. My bloody arm flailed about, unable to slow my fall. Then my head hit the concrete floor and I lost consciousness.

...

When I came to, the world was dark. I slowly realized that I was blindfolded. And gagged. And tied to a chair. My head throbbed. The back of my skull felt weird. I felt dizzy.

A woman's voice pierced the darkness, "I told you he wasn't dead."

"This complicates things," responded another woman. "We can't let him go. We are **** enough as it is."

"Agreed," said a third. "But what about Jessie?" There was a very heavy silence after that. Through it I could hear faint sounds of a struggle. Muffled screams and a chair scooting on a concrete floor, perhaps in an adjacent room.

"We just have to hope she sees reason. After..." said the first voice. Another long silence. More sounds from next door.

"You drew the short straw, Danielle."

"Yeah, I know."

Some footsteps behind me. A rope drops around my neck. The rope tightens. I struggle. I can't breathe. This can't be