I blow out a breath and throw open the door, ready for what’s about to come. I look around the apartment, there’s no one here. It’s trashed, but I can’t see anyone. I’m not that stupid though, I know they’re waiting and not having anything but a plunger as a weapon, I make a dash for the kitchen, cursing myself that I didn’t take the knife with me in the first place.
I’m two meters away but I’m stopped in my tracks by a lean figure adorned in all black, including the bandana and hood that covers his face. I try to dodge around him, avoiding his grasp, but he’s too fast. I kick out in every direction and writhe against his hold, but it’s a futile attempt.
I kick against the wall making us both fly against the kitchen counter, I hear a thud and he curses. I recognize his voice, but I can’t quite place it in my frenzy to get away. The distinctive smell of leather and oil brings back memories and I start to panic. I stamp on his feet but with only bare ones of my own, it does nothing against his steel capped combat boots, I only end up hurting myself.
He has a hand around my waist, pinning my arms to me and one over my mouth to stop me from crying out. As he gets me closer to the apartment door, my heart starts sinking. This is it, this is the beginning of the end.
The hell with that!
I throw my body back and manage to free one of my arms, throwing my elbow back clumsily, but it cracks against his face with such a force he doesn’t have time to stop me and lets go of me fully.
I run the few steps to the apartment door, scrambling over broken photo frames and feeling the glass embed itself into my feet, but I don’t care.
Protect yourself, Keeley. If I can just make it out into the street and make enough noise, someone’s bound to hear me in this dead town!
I make it to the second-last stair on my way down before I’m yanked back against a hard body and a cloth is held over my mouth. Whatever is on it stings my eyes and my head spins, but just before I pass out, I see the wreck that the salon is in and my safety goes out my mind for a minute. “You fuc-”
Everything goes black.
Ergh! Worst hangover ever. I try to raise my hands to my head to stop it from spinning, but I can’t lift them.
Why can’t I move?
I can feel something scratchy covering my face and it feels and sounds like I’m in a vehicle.
Huh?
I try to lift my hands again but they come up against resistance and it all comes back to me. My breathing becomes ragged and I try to calm myself as I spiral into a panic attack.
No, no, no! This can’t be happening.
I struggle against whatever has my wrists bound and it digs into my flesh. I roll onto my feet but immediately drop down, they’re bound by the ankle but it’s not that that stops me. It’s the intense stinging and shooting pains radiating from the soles of them that do. I’m reminded that they were cut during my shitty attempt at an escape. I just wasn’t ready for them to come this soon, but I should’ve prepared myself, I should’ve had a plan in place. Fuck!
My head is pounding out the beat of a drum and I cringe as the vehicle I’ve been thrown inside makes a turn and my head crashes against one of the sides. I attempt to roll up onto my knees instead but decide against it as a wave of nausea rolls through me, telling me it’s too soon to be upright. I try to remember why the guy who took me sounded familiar, but I keep coming up empty. Then the last image of our salon rolls through my mind.
The salon. Our apartment!
I curl my legs up and hold back a sob, I won’t allow them to hear me cry, but this has gutted me like a fish. The thought of Sam going back and having to start from scratch again wounds me deeper than these sleazy fucks ever could. Everything is ruined because of me. I send a silent prayer up to the big man to thank him for moving her out of harm’s way, if she was there tonight, I could never forgive myself for getting her caught up in my business.
Why I thought I could let my guard down and live a normal life, I don’t know. This is who I am, it’s all I’ll ever be.
A pawn to the club.
I test sitting up again and ignore the nausea that swarms my body, threatening to make me puke right here. I close my eyes and try to find some equilibrium against the rocking of what I presume is one of their dirty vans.
I wonder how long we’ve been travelling for? Are they going to take me right back to the clubhouse, or do they have other plans for me?
I decide to wait this out, see where we’re heading before making any irrational decisions. But one thing’s for sure. If they’re looking for me to be a cooperative little prisoner, they can kiss my ass, there’s no way I’m going down without raising a little hell!
After what I figure has been about three more hours since I first woke up, I’ve had enough.
“Hey!” I shout, my voice coming out gravelly against my parched throat.
I bang against the front of the van with my foot, biting down on my lip as it stings and I wince in pain. “Hey!”
I’m glad they hadn’t thought to gag me; I smile a triumphant smile.