by Bella Jewel
He’d stop at nothing to hurt another person.
Nothing.
“Did you miss me, Amalie?”
I don’t say anything, I just stare at him, my face hard, my eyes showing nothing. He nearly ruined my life once before, he’s not going to do it again.
“I see you’re getting harder; spending time with those scumbag bikers will do that to you. No skin off my nose, it makes it a lot more fun for me. I’ll be back for you soon, and we’re going to discuss my plan. I bet you’re excited, oh, and Amalie ...”
He leans closer, so his blue eyes lock on mine.
“If you try to do anything to escape, I will gut you, slowly, and send your insides to your precious fuckin’ boyfriend.”
Then he drives a fist into my stomach so hard I stumble backward, the wind being knocked out of me. I gasp and pant, pain radiating through my body. The man holding me opens the door and throws me in as if I’m nothing more than a rag-doll. I hit the ground with a cry and roll to my side, fighting the agony pounding through my stomach and spine. I lay like that for a while, trying to catch my breath, trying to stop myself from completely breaking down.
I finally get the courage to push myself up, and I freeze.
I’m not alone in this room.
Sitting against the wall, knees to her chest, face bloodied, hair a ratty mess, is the redhead I saw at the club the other week. Her eyes meet mine, and my heart aches for her. I know exactly how brutal Treyton can be, and I only spent less than an hour in his monstrous hands.
How long as she been here?
“Amalie, right?” the girl croaks.
I nod, eyes wide, staring at her. “W-W-Who are you?”
“Charlie.”
Charlie.
She’s the girl that they’ve all been worried because she’s been missing.
Treyton has had her this whole time.
“Are you okay?” I ask her.
It seems like a stupid question, because clearly she’s not okay, but I don’t know what else to say.
“I’m alive,” she tells me, and her lips look dry like she hasn’t had water for a few days. “They got hold of you, too, huh? They said they were going to take Scarlett down, then kill me, to make a point. I guess they didn’t get that far.”
They very nearly did take Scarlett down; if it wasn’t for me, she wouldn’t be here. That thought has my chest clenching. I never want to imagine that situation, not even for a second.
“They tried shooting her at her concert,” I tell Charlie. “I saw the light and pushed her down. They took me instead. I’m guessing they’re not going to send me back alive.”
My whole body twists in fear at that thought, because Treyton has given his warning, by simply beating us, this time he’s serious. He’s had enough. And he wants to let the club know he means business, which means he’s going to do something that’ll stop them in their tracks, and what better than giving Malakai a broken heart he’ll not recover from?
Smart, terrifying man.
“I don’t think they plan on sending either of us back alive, from what I’ve heard. The original plan was to have Scarlett killed in front of everyone, to make such a scene that the club would know they are willing to do anything and everything to prove to them they won’t stop until they back down. Then they were going to send my dead body back, to prove they knew the club’s every step.”
“And instead I ruined their plans, and now they have me,” I finish for her.
“Two for one. They’ll send us both back, I’d guarantee it. Anything to put a spanner in the works, anything to shake the club up so much they feel fear, and pain, and rage. Treyton wants a war, and he’s willing to kill anyone that gets in his way, including us.”
Vomit rises in my throat, and my skin prickles with fear. How in the hell are we supposed to get out of this one? How will Charlie and I stop him from killing us? We won’t. Not unless Malakai finds us in time, but he’s been looking for months, without any luck. How is he supposed to find us before Treyton does whatever it is he’s planning to do?
“We’re not getting out of here, are we?” I whisper, crawling over in agony and sitting beside her, still facing her enough so I can see what she’s saying.
“I’m going to give it a damn good go.”
Her voice is stern, even though she looks like she’s about to pass out from a blend of exhaustion and pain. She’s a strong woman, she holds it like it’s a part of her, a part she isn’t afraid to show the world. I guess I can be grateful that I’m in here with someone like this, because if I were on my own, I don’t honestly know what I’d do.
“Is there any way to escape? Anything at all?” I ask her.
“Not unless we fight our way out. We’re fully secured in here, and they have at least two men with Treyton every time he comes in. Which means we’re going to be outnumbered. We might be able to give them enough hell to get out, but even then I don’t know how far we’d get. Still, if they’re going to take my life, you can guarantee they won’t take it without me fighting for it first.”
Fear pumps through my veins, and I wrap my arms around myself. “I don’t know how you’re so strong, I feel like I’m going to shrink inside myself from fear alone.”
She holds my eyes, her beautiful green ones filled with a determination I admire. “Think of everything you love, Amalie. Every single thing you have. Are you honestly going to sit back and just let them take all of that from you? Without even trying to fight for it? Fear is nothing more than an emotion. Put it away.”
I stare at her in awe. Then I think of Malakai and Scarlett, and the club, and my father, hell, even my mother. And I know what she’s saying. If I’m going to die, I’m going to do it fighting. At least then I’ll know I did everything I could to get back to them. Everything.
“No, I’m not going to let them just take that from me.”
She smiles, weakly. “Then we need to find a way to get the hell out of here.”
“Any idea how we might do that?”
She shakes her head but looks around the room. “He bashed me so badly I can barely lift my arms, but he made the mistake of not hurting you too badly, yet. Which means you still have strength. There are a few things in this room that could work, like that beam over there on the wall. It’s nailed on, but I think we can bust the nails off and pull it down. You could hit someone really hard with that.”
I glance around the mostly empty room. Outside of a worn-out old mattress on the floor and a few pans that I imagine are for going to the toilet, there is nothing that could be used as a weapon, but Charlie is right, there are some old beams hanging off the wall. They look like they might have been used as a flimsy repair to the broken wall, but with a good deal of force, hitting someone with one of them would knock them out.
I push to my feet and walk over to them, some are nailed securely to the wall, but there are two that the nails have gone slightly rusty and they’ve pulled away from the wall just a little. I tug at one. It’s hard, it’ll take a lot of effort to pull it off. I look around the room, trying to find anything that might help me loosen it. My eyes meet Charlie’s on my search, and she nods at me. “They’re going to be hard to get off. Have you got anything on you, anything at all, that might help?”
They took my phone, and anything else I had on me, they also ripped off all the wires, but what they didn’t consider, was my hair. I reach up and pull out the long, thick pins holding it together. They’re not much, but I might be able to chip away at the wood around the nails, and loosen them enough to get them free.
I walk over and start scraping at the old, splintery wood. It takes me over twenty minutes to loosen just one of the nails. Frustrated, I rattle and shake the wood. I look back at Charlie and she waves quickly, instructing me to sit down. She can hear someone coming. I rush over and sit down beside her, tucking the hair pin in a crack in the cement floor. Then I wait with a sick feeling for the door to open.
“Hello, ladies,” Treyton says
the moment he steps in.
He’s holding a crowbar.
My stomach twists, and I feel sick.
What in the hell is he going to do with that?
I glance at Charlie, and her face is pale.
Has he already used that on her?
He steps in, two men following him, and then he closes the door.
And I brace myself for the hell he’s about to inflict on us.
-17-
MALAKAI
“Here to see Caiden,” I say to the sour-faced woman standing at the door of the massive fucking mansion.
She stares at me, mouth slightly agape, and then quickly shakes her head. “You need to leave. He’s retracted his statement. He doesn’t want any trouble. I’ll call the police.”
“First of all, lady, you can call the fuckin’ cops, see if I give a flyin’ fuck, and second of all, I couldn’t care less about his filthy fuckin’ lies. I’m here because Amalie is missin’. Now, you either let me in, or I’ll come back with thirty men, and we’ll find a way in. Cops, or not.”
Her mouth drops open, and she just stares at me for a few moments, and then she steps aside and lets me in. Smart woman; clearly her son didn’t get his stupid fucking brain from her. “Show me where he is,” I demand, and she murmurs a low, “Follow me.”
I follow her down the massive halls and to a whole other section of the house. She opens the door and we step inside. Her eyes dart to me a few times, and when we enter a massive fucking dining room, she points to a man sitting by the window, staring out. I nod at her and make my way over, not giving him any warning. He turns when he hears me approach and his mouth parts and he skitters backward in his chair.
“Calm down,” I mutter, crossing my arms. “Not here to hurt you, though I’d fuckin’ like to, so don’t push me. I’m here about Amalie.”
“I retracted my statement,” he stammers.
I take a good look at his face. The photo they printed was far worse. His face now is scarred, but it isn’t terrible. His features are still intact. He’s the opposite of anything I’d have ever pictured Amalie falling for, but then I’m sure her family wouldn’t have expected her to fall for a biker, so who am I to judge.
Still, the urge to knock this little fucker out of his chair is strong.
I refrain.
“I know you fuckin’ did, I’m not here for that. Fuck me you people are paranoid.”
His mouth opens, and then closes. “Why are you here then?”
“I’m here because Amalie is missin’, and I want to know if you have any idea where she might be?”
“Missing?” he says, eyes getting wide.
“Don’t act like you care about her, we both know you fuckin’ don’t. Never deserved a girl as pure as her, so wipe the shit and answer my question.”
“I do care about her ...”
I lean forward, grabbing his jacket with both of my hands and raising him out of his chair. He makes a spluttering sound, but I talk over him. “Listen to me, you cock sucker. I don’t have time for your pathetic bullshit lies. You and I both know the truth of what happened, Amalie told me all of it. Now, as I said, I’m not here to discuss that. I’m here to discuss my girl, the one who is missin’. Trust me when I say I’d fuckin’ burn anythin’ that gets in my way when it comes to her, so you either tell me if you know anythin’ or I’ll make you tell me if you know anythin’. Choice is yours.”
I lower him back onto his chair and he stares up at me, horrified, but he doesn’t break. Strong. Good for him.
“I don’t know where she is, that’s the truth.”
“You haven’t had any visitors since that article, nothin’ out of the ordinary? Phone calls? Letters?”
“Well, yeah, but none of them have been concerning Amalie. Most have been concerning sharing my story further.”
Weasel.
I’d like to punch him just for breathing right now, but I won’t, because fuck, my girl is out there somewhere, and I need to find her.
“I find out you’re lyin’ to me, I’ll be back, and you won’t like what I do to you then. We clear?”
“Clear.”
“You’re certain there is nothing else?”
“I’m certain.”
“Then I’ll leave you to it,” I mutter, turning and walking towards the door. When I reach it, I look back at him. “Oh, and Caiden? You ever fuckin’ hurt my girl like that again, I will personally make sure you regret the day you were born.”
He nods.
I walk out of the massive house and pull out my phone, calling Mason.
“Yo, Prez.”
“Nothin’ here, tell me you got fuckin’ somethin’ out of the leads from that phone?”
“No location, but did get the name of his second in charge. Huntin’ information on that fucker now.”
“Call me if you find out, I’ll get hold of Maverick.”
“On it.”
My chest tightens, and I try to push my thoughts away from what Amalie is probably going through right at this second. The fucking thought of what that low life piece of shit could be doin’ to her makes my stomach turn. But she needs me. I have to put that aside and find her. I call Maverick.
“Tell me you’ve got somethin’,” I say as soon as he answers.
“Actually, I do,” he tells me. “An old housemate of his gave us some information after we gave him incentive to talk.”
In other words, they flogged him until he opened his mouth. That’s exactly how I need it to be until we get the information we need to get my girl back.
“Got a location?”
“Got several that he has been, or might be, hangin’ out at. Two houses on the outskirts of town, and an old abandoned warehouse about half an hour away. Might not be at any of them, but it’s a start. We’re holdin’ his little friend until we get hold of him, make sure he doesn’t give him a heads up we’re comin’.”
“Good, meet you at the club in ten. We’ll separate, cover all three locations. Load up on weapons, as many as you can find. Don’t imagine Trey works alone. Five men go to each place, I want Koda and I want Mason. The other two, you can pick. Have it ready.”
“On it. See you in ten.”
I start my bike and glance back at the mansion once more, before riding toward the club.
And fucking praying it isn’t too late.
~*~*~*~
AMALIE
I spit blood from my mouth, and my ears are ringing. My left leg has been hit four times with that crow bar, and his boot has connected with my ribs another five. He’s hit me countless times on the face, thrown me against walls, and done anything he can to damage me. It’s worked, my body feels like a bomb has exploded right in the middle of it. I can’t hear, I can barely see, and mostly, I can’t move.
Any hopes of escape have gone out the door.
I’ll never get free now. I’m already too weak.
“Think that’s enough damage for the day,” Treyton says, dropping one last kick into my ribs.
I cry out in pain; there are no tears left, they’ve been dragged from my body along with all my hope. He’s going to kill me, Charlie too. He made that clear. But he didn’t want to send us back clean, he wanted Malakai and the club to know we’d suffered first. He wants our bodies bruised and battered, something that will stick in their minds forever.
I roll to my side, spitting more blood. The ringing in my ears has turned to a loud roar after Treyton slammed my head against the wall. Blood trickles from one of them. The pain of that is worse than anything else. If I lose more of my hearing, I’ll never ever recover. He knows that, it’s exactly what he wanted.
“As soon as I’ve checked the perimeter, I’ll be back. I’m going to kill Charlie first,” he tells me, making sure I can read his lips.
I tried to close my eyes against it earlier.
I quickly learned that was a bad idea.
He doesn’t take too kindly to ignorance.
“I’m going to make you
watch,” he smiles. “Then I’m going to gut you, and send it all to your boyfriend on a pretty platter. Can you imagine his face?”
I can, and my heart twists and clenches. The fear in my body is unlike anything I’ve ever experienced. No nightmare could ever compare. It’s a desperation, crossed with horror. The thought of dying scares me to no end, and I’m frantic to try and stop it, yet helpless because there’s nothing I can do. It’s the worst feeling I’ve ever experienced, and even the pain can’t mask the fear consuming my every thought.
“Enjoy your last few minutes, I’m going to sharpen my knives.”
Him and the other two men leave the room, and I turn to see Charlie, tears running down her face, watching me. They made her watch the whole thing, and I know that what she sees is terrifying. She drags her equally beaten body over to mine, and places a hand on my face, trying to wipe some of the blood away from my eyes. “I’m so sorry, Amalie. I couldn’t do anything.”
I reach up, crying out in agony, and take her hand. “It’s okay,” I rasp. “You’re here now.”
“They’re going to kill us.”
Yes. They are.
Her eyes swing to the piece of wood I started loosening on the wall, and with a cry that makes my heart rip in two, she pushes to her feet and hobbles over. Then, she starts crawling at the wood, her fingers bleeding, her body limp and weak, but she pulls and tugs, scratching until the wood is covered in her blood, until finally the two top nails are free.
I take a deep, shaky breath and scream out in pain as I push to my hands and knees, crawling in pure agony over to the hair pin I stashed away. I pick it up and slowly make my way over to the wood, and with a strength I never thought I could find, I start loosening the bottom two nails. Tears roll down my cheeks, and my body begs me to stop, but the need to save my own life far outweighs my pain.
Charlie pulls, and the wood makes a loud snapping sound, breaking in half. She topples backward, crying and gasping in pain, but she has the wood in her hands. It’s a jagged, broken piece, with sharp edges. So sharp they’d pierce someone with enough force.