Groaning at my own mind losing it and betraying me in my sleep, I glare down at my pussy. “You do understand they stole us, right? As in they stole us and locked us up?” I snarl, before heaving up and heading to shower again. Stupid fucking vagina, it doesn’t seem to care that they bought us.
Or that they probably plan to kill us. She’s a hussy and is all like, yes, but they are hot. Bastards. I mean, yes, they are hot. Attractive would be an understatement, they all look like statues of Greek gods. Perfectly carved with abs that don’t come from sitting around all day. They work hard to be the best at everything, and that clearly includes being the best looking.
It’s not fair and has my hormones all confused. I hate them, I do. I want to kill them…but also kinda want to screw them?
Brilliant.
After washing, I brush my teeth and cleanse my face, screw those bastards. I ain’t putting makeup on for them, but I do brush my hair before slipping into some tight black skinny jeans—my favourite ones with holes and tears all the way down, showing off my tattoos—and pairing them with my loose Harley vest, which I tuck in at the front. There, I’m sort of presentable in case I manage to escape.
When I open my bedroom door, I find my boots outside and, honestly, I nearly cry as I yank them on. “I missed you,” I tell them, stroking the matte black material as I lace them up and tuck in my jeans. I always feel better with what Cook calls my ass kickers on.
Fuck, Cook.
I hope the bar is okay. I wonder if anyone even cares that I’ve disappeared?
It’s not like I have anyone who’d notice, other than some staff and people who drink there all the time. They are probably more bothered that I can’t pour them some drinks and have to find somewhere else to go.
Feeling stronger, I head down the corridor, déjà vu hitting me when I find them all sitting at the breakfast table. Do they do this every morning? I slip into my chair from yesterday. Garrett doesn’t look at me, but I see one of his eyes is black, and when I look at his busted, blood encrusted knuckles on the table, he yanks them underneath.
His shirt is a V-neck, showing off those scars I saw yesterday. They were horrendous, he must have suffered so much pain. Endured so much. How is he alive? They looked like strips of his skin had been torn away and sewn back on, creating mottled flesh. My heart actually hurts for him.
From what I’ve heard, something clearly happened to him. But what? And why does that make him hate women?
I look away, not wanting to trigger him again. Ryder is reading the paper, also ignoring me, wearing the only suit he has left, which makes me smirk. He must notice because he raises his eyes before narrowing them slightly at me. “Eat, you didn’t yesterday.”
“Worried I’ll starve to death?” I scoff.
“There are much more interesting ways to die.” Diesel grins at me, sucking a sausage from his fork as he chews, leering at me.
Looking away, I watch as Kenzo fills my plate again, passing me a coffee without asking. I decide to do as Ryder orders, not because I’m being good, but because I’m actually hungry. And it can’t be poisoned or they would all be dead.
I eat it so fast, my stomach actually hurts. Shit, I forgot how much starving hurts when you eat again. Sipping the coffee, I sit back in my chair, pulling my knees to my chest to try and stop the ache.
“Today, you will stay with Kenzo again,” Ryder informs me, as he sips from his tiny teacup, folding the paper and placing it on the table. “Garrett, you and I need to make some visits. We’ll bring you back a present, Diesel…no breaking it. Just play, a reminder.”
Diesel perks up, his eyes almost blazing as he smirks. “Fuck yes.”
“I mean it,” Ryder warns, and Diesel rolls his eyes but nods.
“Then I need to go downtown, it seems I’m in need of more clothing.” Ryder sighs, and every eye turns to me. I smirk, sipping my coffee. “I will also grab you some items, Roxxane.”
“I don’t need your fucking charity clothes,” I snarl, sitting up.
Ryder looks me over, judgement in his eyes. “You’re wearing rags, a Viper does not wear such…attire.”
“Good job I’m not a fucking Viper,” I snap.
His lips turn up at the corner. “No, but you are a guest. You will represent our business and family, even when you are simply in the apartment. This isn’t a negotiation.”
“What? Want me to take my piercings out as well?” I laugh. “Not good enough for your sanctimonious ass to rape?”
He snarls then, leaning forward. “Be careful what you say, Roxxane, very careful.” Then he blinks, and he’s back to being ice-cold. “No, you may keep your piercings, you do look beautiful without the makeup, by the way, but I find myself seeing it as you without war paint.” He laughs.
“Good, ’cause there are some piercings that aren’t so easy to take out.” I shrug, and all eyes are back on me again, wondering. “You will never fucking find out.”
Diesel laughs. “Don’t be so sure, Little Bird.”
Garrett looks away again and gets to his feet, holding himself stiffly as if he hurts. “We should get going.”
“Indeed.” Ryder sighs and stands, looking over at me again. “I would say behave, but I don’t think you would listen. Know that Diesel will be here this morning.” He almost smirks, fucker, he knows that means I’ll behave so the crazy bastard won’t come near me.
I take my coffee and, with one last glare at them, retreat to my room. No way am I putting myself in the path of that pyromaniac. I’ll actually listen to them for once and stay away. Shit, this is getting boring though. All I’m doing is sleeping and hiding.
I thought I would be free by now.
I’m coming to believe I’ll never be free again. I’ll die here, at their hands.
I stay in the room as long as I can. I get so bored, I count the steps it takes to get everywhere before flopping back on the bed. It has to be hours later when I finally can’t take it anymore, I’ve never been one to sit still. Hell, I’ve worked nearly every day since I was sixteen. First to pay off my dad’s debt back then to Rich before he hired me on fully, then to make him proud…and then to keep my bar afloat.
I find myself missing it, not knowing how to switch off. So I open the door a crack and look out, peeking each way to make sure Diesel isn’t standing right outside to pounce on me. When nothing moves, I slip into the hall, sliding my feet across the cool floor to make no sound as I head to the end of the corridor.
Once there, I look around the corner to see if the living area is empty. Kenzo is outside again, on the phone, pacing back and forth. Diesel is just heading out the front door, and I see my opportunity.
They all think I’m in my room.