Crazy Dumb Luck

 "It sounds like you're under the impression that you gone live through this homie, but you anit."
The kidnappers voice gave no indication that he was joking . Carlton, began to sweat even more and the rough feel of the ropes around his wrists worsened as the sweat ran along his raw, broken skin.

 Carlton's day was getting progressively worse. He had awoke to the sound of his doorbell being rang repeatedly.  

The three man crew had appeared from nowhere, and the girl that had been on the doorstep had vanished. He had been beaten repeatedly and the pain now seemed to just come in waves.

 If he had known the information that his torturers wanted he would have given it up long ago.

The kidnappers kept asking about a stash of money that was nonexistent.

 He had no safe, no stash spot, and no other address where he kept more stuff. 

Carlton, didn't save money.  He spent it, the moment a dollar touched Carlton Davies hands it was gone. Shoes, clothes, cars, and women, that was all he cared about. Every cent that he obtained was spent in pursuit of those four things.

Carlton, had been poor for his entire life. His parents were poor and he was born into poverty. Carlton, remembered the first time that he realized that bread was supposed to come in single loaves. His family had always bought the week old bread from the bakery, which came in a large paper bag. The bag contained everything that hadn't been sold that week, doughnuts, bagels, cinnamon rolls, and bread of every kind from Arepa to Zopf.

Carlton had never been particularly skilled at anything, he had no athletic ability. 

He couldn't sing or dance or act. Carlton, couldn’t even sell drugs.

 He had gotten lucky at the casino a few times, very lucky. Lucky enough that he had drawn attention with some of his more flashy purchases. That was the only reason that Carl could fathom for why he was tied up and being tortured.

One of the many things that Carlton had attempted in order to break the chain of poverty in his life, had been to join the military. He had failed at that miserably, getting injured while still in basic training.

The only thing that Carlton was good at was being a friend. His open and compassionate face were attached to a large giving heart.  He was loyal to a fault, and as long as no money ever became involved Carlton’s friends would love him forever.

Good friends were what saved Carlton. The kidnappers had gotten drunk off of the mildly expensive liquor that Carl had in his cabinet and decided to rest. They left Carl tied to his dining room chair, his fingers swollen to thrice their original size. One of the abductors had decided that stomping on the man’s knuckles would be a good way to loosen his tongue.

The hostage takers plan would have worked if Carlton had secrets, but all Carl had to offer was an empty refrigerator and an emptier bank account. His knuckles had been turned into powder to no avail.

The trio of captors, had gotten very drunk off of Carl’s stash of $150 a bottle Cognac. He could hear snoring from the other room. He could also hear his cell phone vibrating again and again. “It must be after 7, I was supposed to meet up with Dan and Face!” Carlton knew they were the only ones who would be blowing up his phone.  

As the phone stopped buzzing and the snoring became softer, Carl, whose lower extremities had fallen asleep, abandoned hope. Carlton attempted to pray, something he hadn’t done in a long time. He begged any and every God or Lord that might be listening to please get him out of this situation. He cried until tears would no longer stream down his face. The moment that he passed out escaped him, but if he lived another hundred years Carl would never forget the moment he woke up.

The doorbell rang and a whispered argument ensued, his abductors were trying to decide what to do about whoever was at the door. The bell buzzed again, and again. Carl couldn’t see what was happening as one of the men holding him had covered his head and muzzled him with a pair of his own dirty boxer briefs.

The next sound that reached his besieged ears was deafening, and thunderous. A shotgun. The loud boom was followed by outcries and a slightly less brash popping sound.

The next thing that Carl saw was his friend Jacob “Horse-face” Glenn’s concerned visage. He passed out again and didn’t awaken again until he was in the hospital.

Daniel Brown and Horse face, were professional bodyguards. They had become friends with Carlton at the VA hospital.

 Dan and Face, had been counting on Carl's good luck to rub off on them, and help them at the casino.

They had been determined to pick him, he was their good luck charm.
There's a lot to be said for good friends, and even better luck.