He fumbles with the tie at the back of my head. “Here, let me—
I slap his hand away, yelling get the fuck off me, but it’s all gibberish from behind my gag.
A growled sound of frustration reaches my ears at the same time his hands go back to my head. “Trust me, okay?”
Is he out of his fucking mind?
The gag is pulled free. I work my jaw back and forth to squelch the ache then move to pull free my blindfold.
“No.” His hands hold mine still. “Not yet.”
My arm stings as he wraps what I assume to be the gag around my wounded arm.
“There. Come on.” He grips my wrist and pulls me forward.
I take a few steps, cringing against the pain of jagged rocks beneath my feet. I stumble as something sharp pierces the ball of my foot. I hiss through my teeth and trip, but strong arms keep me from falling.
Another huff of frustration and I’m off the ground, pressed against a solid chest. The scent of leather and highway give Hatch away as he cradles me and moves with heavy steps. I try to reach down, to tuck the length of the T-shirt I’m wearing over my bare butt.
Hatch chuckles. “Don’t bother. Too dark to see shit out here.”
“Where are you taking me?” I don’t expect an answer, but I have to ask. At the very least I need to keep them talking.
“You’ll see soon enough.” His voice is cold, harder than I’m used to hearing; although everything about Hatch has changed.
Low murmurs of male voices prick my ears and send my pulse skyrocketing. More of them. A lot more of them.
I wiggle, fighting for Hatch to release me. I don’t care how much it hurts. I’ll run. They might shoot me in the back, but I have a feeling a quick death would be better than what they have planned.
“Please, let me go. I won’t tell anyone, I promise.” I fight harder only to be locked down tightly to his chest.
“No way. I need this and”—he gets quiet, as if he’s struggling with what he’s about to say—“so do you.”
My mouth hangs open, prepared to launch at him for saying I need to be murdered, but before I can get the first word out, my feet are dropped to the warm desert floor.
He swings me around so that my back is to him, his hands placed firmly on my shoulders. Then he’s gone.
I sway, disoriented now that I don’t have something grounding me. I reach for my blindfold, knowing that if someone is close enough they’ll stop me, and if not, I’ll run.
Slowly, I peel back the fabric, and when no one stops me, I push it up to my forehead. Fuzzy silhouettes come into focus, and my eyes grow wide as fear chills my blood.
All men.
Some I recognize as Hatch’s crew, others I don’t. They’re all standing in a circle around me, each one with the stone-hard face of a killer. My pulse pounds in my neck, and my legs feel like they’re filled with concrete.
The ring of bodies parts to let through a man I don’t recognize. Overgrown dark brown hair with a hint of gray around his sideburns, he doesn’t look all that threatening. His average height and slightly muscular build scream every day guy, but the aura of pure evil that reflects in his black glare tells me all I need to know.
This dude is dangerous.
“Job well done, son.” His words are directed at Drake, who I’ve noticed isn’t standing in the circle along with the others, but is a few feet behind my left shoulder.
Drake simply nods.
Son? Drake kidnapped me for his dad?
Memories of what Mason told me about Drake’s dad filter through my mind: criminal, psychopath, soulless.
I blink, the confusion and utter ridiculousness of this making my head swim.
Drake’s dad spins on his heel to address the group. “You’ve all pledged to join me, to make my friends your friends and my enemies your enemies.” He prowls in slow circles around me like a predator stalking his prey. “Tonight we make a blood oath.”
They all grunt their agreement.
“We shed blood to prove our loyalty and our commitment to the club and to each other. If one goes down, we all go down.” His eyes pierce mine and a slow smile curves his lips. “This lovely sacrifice has been brought to us by my son.” His gaze swings to Drake. “You’ve proven you’re ready to move on, and after tonight, you have my blessing.”
Drake winces as his dad grips his shoulder. “And if you tell anyone about what you know, I’ll have you as an accomplice to murder.” He smiles at his son as if he just wished him good luck on his SATs.
His attention shifts back to me, and I search for Hatch to plead that he save me, but his eyes are downcast in avoidance. I turn to Drake, whose expression is a blank wall. He nods, and when I turn around, his father is less than a foot from me.
I gasp and lean away from him.