by Bella Jewel
I glance at him, and he’s looking at me in a way that puts me on edge. I’m not sure what it is about his expression, but I feel a little uneasy. Maybe it’s just because I’m about to do something terrible, and it’s weighing on me. Still, I put on a smile and say, “Sure.”
He walks past me and into the bathroom to run a bath, and I quickly remove my phone and text Alarick with an update. He tells me they’re out there now and he’ll let me know when it’s safe to return.
My stomach twists with nerves, and while Dax is in the bathroom, I pull out my gun and stuff it into my purse along with my phone. I don’t need him seeing those things. I turn and walk into the bathroom, and the spa is filling with beautiful fluffy bubbles. Dax stands and hands me a robe, a towel and some soap, and tells me he has to make a call but will be back soon.
I feel a little concerned at that thought, and when he’s gone, I rub my arms and try to shake away the horrible feeling in the pit of my stomach. I don’t want to get in a spa with him, but at the same time, I know I have no other choice. I only pray he’s not checking the cameras while he’s out there.
I get undressed, tie my hair into a bun on the top of my head, and sink into the spa bath. It’s deep, and the bubbles cover me right up, which makes me feel a little better. When it’s full enough, I turn it off. Dax comes in a moment later, and sits on the side of the tub, staring down at me. His expression is still concerning, and I wonder if he knows what I’ve done. Did he see me turning those cameras off?
I feel sick.
“Are you okay?” I ask him, smiling.
He runs a finger down my cheek, staring at me almost blankly. “Are you okay, angel?”
Huh?
“I’m perfect. You seem distracted.”
“Do I?”
“Yes.”
“Does it bother you?”
What is going on with him? “No, I just wanted to enjoy the night with you...”
“Is that the truth?”
Sweet Jesus. “Yes,” I say, swallowing.
“You wouldn’t lie to me, my pretty angel, would you?” His finger trails down over my jaw and down to my neck.
“No,” I whisper, feeling nervous.
“Do you trust me?”
What is going on? “Yes.”
“Good.”
With a sudden movement, his hand is around my throat and he’s shoving me under the water. It happens so fast, I don’t even get a split second to fight. Hot water swirls around my face and up my nose. I squirm and fight. I claw at his arm, my heart races and fear swells in my chest. I’ve never been so scared in my life, and at the realization that he’s trying to drown me, I start fighting harder than I’ve ever fought.
I kick, claw, bite, scratch, and do anything I can to get him to let me up. Black spots appear in my vision, and I know that I’m going to pass out soon. I’m going to die. I start to scream and water fills my lungs, and before I can think a second more, Dax launches me up and out of the water. He releases my neck and his hand curls into my hair as he pulls me close to his face. He’s panting and angry, nostrils flaring, eyes wide and terrifying. I’m coughing, trying to get the water from my lungs.
“What is wrong with you?” I scream, but his hand only tightens further, until my scalp burns with the pressure.
“You are what’s wrong with me, my lying, cheating little bitch.”
He knows.
Oh god. He knows.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I cough.
With a feral growl, he jerks me right up out of the bath and drags me, naked and dripping, into the living area of the hotel. Then, releasing me, he walks over to my purse, pulls out my gun and points it at me. My heart stops and I can’t think. I can’t do anything but stare in complete horror at him.
He knows.
“Get dressed,” he orders.
“Dax, please,” I beg.
“I will shoot you—do not fuckin’ doubt it. Now get dressed.”
I do as he asks. I get dressed, and I do it quickly. The moment I’m dressed, he shoves the gun into his pants, grabs my things and then storms over, taking my arm and pulling me towards the door. “You scream, and I swear to you, I will shoot every fuckin’ person in this place without so much as a thought. You’ll have to live with that for the rest of your miserable fuckin’ life. Are we clear?”
Oh god.
Oh, no.
“Yes,” I whisper, my voice so shaky I can’t get it to work.
“Good.”
He leads me out of the hotel, and I don’t scream. Dax will do exactly what he says he’ll do, and I’m not going to be the reason innocent people die.
The moment we’re in his truck, he reaches into the glove compartment and pulls out another gun and some handcuffs. “Put them on. You try to run, I’ll murder everyone you love until you return.”
I do as he asks. I put the cuffs on.
Still trembling, still in complete shock, I say, “What . . . what is happening?”
He starts driving, and only then does he talk. Only then does he finally spill exactly what it is he’s doing right now. I’ve figured out enough to know that he’s worked out I’m not on his side, but just how much he knows, I don’t fully grasp yet.
“We’re going back to my place where your little biker club is currently digging up Bennett’s body and removing it. They’re also freeing over fifty girls that I’ve placed there. They think you’re distracting me. They think they’ve finally won. They’re about to find out how wrong they are.”
Oh god.
Oh. My. God.
I’m going to vomit. Everything spins, and my heart tries to piece together exactly what he’s telling me right now, because what he’s saying is he knows the plan exactly. How the fuck does he know that?
“How?” I whisper.
He laughs, shaking his head. “You don’t think I’m stupid, do you? I mean, clearly you fuckin’ do because you have been playin’ me for months, but the thing about me, sweetheart, is that I don’t get played.”
I won’t vomit.
I’ll keep it together.
Come on, Waverly.
You’re strong.
“I know who you are. I know that they sent you in to get information. I’ve known that all along. You didn’t honestly believe that I’d trust they would walk away and never look into what I was doing again, did you? I knew damn well Alarick wasn’t going to give up that easily. I honestly can’t believe he’s so fucking stupid.”
No.
No, no, no, no.
“I’ve been playing just as hard as you’ve been playing. You see, Bennett wasn’t my only cop friend. No, a man with my stature has far more people in higher places. I know about your little plan, and I’ve done one better for you all . . .”
I don’t want to hear it.
I don’t want to know.
This isn’t happening.
Please, god, tell me this isn’t happening.
“I’m going to make them all pay, you see.”
“How?” I ask again, desperate.
He laughs, low and bitter. “Alarick doesn’t know it, but he’s got a rat. A dirty fuckin’ rat that’s been feeding me information. If only he’d looked closer to home a little earlier, he might have seen that one of his own was sharing. How else did I know what I know? Surely he would have pieced that together. He didn’t. Anyway, that little rat has been relaying everything, and that allowed me to come up with the perfect plan.”
He glances at the clock in the truck, and smiles.
A low vicious smile.
“In fact, in about twenty minutes, the police are going to arrive on my property. They’re going to find a group of bikers that have a bunch of girls, girls who have been taken. They’re going to find a few of them with a dead fuckin’ cop. They’re going to arrest the lot of them and while that’s happening, I’ll slip into the night, never to be seen again.”
No.
No.
No.
“There’s no evidence,” I say, my voice so weak it’s scary. “They might find them there, but there’s nothing to keep them there . . . the cops won’t believe they did it.”
“Wrong again. Because of Alarick’s little rat, I’ve been able to plant enough things to make it look like the club are the people behind my operation. I’ve made it all look like they’re helping me, and have been all along. It’s all the cops need to take that entire club down. It’s not like they haven’t been looking for a reason. Sad, really. If only they’d minded their own business . . .”
This is a nightmare.
A bad dream.
“The cops won’t help you . . . they won’t . . .”
“They will, because Bennett wasn’t the only person I had on my side. I’ve organized them to go there, and they’re going to find everything they need. How do you think it’ll look when they see bikers with a dead body of a police officer? There’s no getting away with it.”
“They’ll figure it out; they’ll figure out it was you all along!” I snarl, angrily.
He shrugs. “Perhaps, but by the time they do, I promise you they won’t find me. They will not be able to track me down, and besides, your little bikers will be all locked up with nowhere to go. It’s the perfect plan. Nobody is going to believe a biker gang is innocent. Nobody.”
I feel sick, because he’s right.
Who is going to believe a biker club wouldn’t have something to do with an operation like this? It’s dangerous, it’s illegal, and they’re known for dealing with the dangerous and the illegal.
What have I done?
How did we not see this coming?
I can’t warn Alarick, because Dax has my phone. He has it, and he’s not going to give it to me. But if I don’t warn them, then they’re going to be taken from me—all of them. They’re going to get locked up and with Dax’s power, they’re going to stay locked up. I can’t do that to them. No. I have to think.
Think, Waverly.
I glance around the car, trying not to make it too obvious. There has to be something, something I can use to hurt Dax. Something I can use to just get out of here. Once I’m out, I’ll run and get help. I’ll call Alarick. I’ll do something. I see my purse on the ground in the backseat, there’s no way I’ll get to that. I focus on the front area, and other than a few random items, there’s not much I can use to hurt him.
I’m going to have to use my own force.
My hands are bound.
But I’m flexible as fuck.
And this piece of shit isn’t going to get away with this.
I act quickly without too much thought. I raise my elbow, intertwine my bound fingers, and then I slam my elbow into Dax’s temple. With a shocked gasp, he swerves the car. I do it again, harder this time. With a pained bellow, he tries to correct the car while reaching over and grabbing my hair. He takes a fistful of it and slams my head into the dash. I hit it with such force, I feel a split in my head that has it spinning.
I don’t let it stop me.
I shift all my weight to the side, ripping my hair from his grips - chunks of it come out. I lean my back against the window and I use my foot to slam his head against the glass. I kick him so hard it cracks and blood spurts out. With a gasp of pain, he shakes his head, dazed.
I kick him again.
The car skids off the road and down a ditch, where it comes to a screeching halt and we’re both slammed forward.
I’m grateful we didn’t hit a tree.
I move as fast as I can while he’s dazed and reach over the back with both hands, grabbing my purse. Then I turn, undo the door and kick it open before launching out. I know I’m not going to get far, I kicked him hard—hard enough to probably cause some serious damage, but not enough to stop him from coming after me. He’s probably going to shoot me, but if I can save that club, I’m going to.
I pull out the phone and dial Alarick’s number, my hands shaking, blood dripping from my head onto the phone.
“Waverly?”
“Get out,” I cry, hearing the car door open as Dax launches out. “Get out now. It’s a trap, Alarick. The cops are coming. He’s been playing us all along. Get out.”
I hang up the phone and shove it back into my purse just as Dax roars. “Don’t fuckin’ move.”
I hope he didn’t see that I made a call.
I’m on my knees, crouched down over my purse, and I decide to put the phone in my hands so it looks like I’m about to use it. I turn slowly, phone in hand, and look at him.
He’s got a lot of blood on his face, a heap of it pouring down from his temple. He’s got a gun pointed at me, and he’s panting with rage, and probably pain.
“Put that fuckin’ phone down, or I’ll blow your brains out.”
My hands shake, but I drop the phone.
“Stand up.”
I do as he asks; I stand up. I can taste blood in my mouth, and my face is probably covered in it.
“Get. In. The. Car.”
I move slowly, walking back to the car, never taking my eyes off him. He gets back in too, and this time, he keeps the gun pointed at me. He manages to reverse the car out of the ditch, and we start driving again. His hand doesn’t waver.
“I should kill you for a stunt like that.”
But he didn’t.
I have to wonder why that is.
I’ve always suspected he felt differently about me. Could I be right? If so, maybe I have it in my power to stop this.
“Why didn’t you then?” I spit.
“Don’t tempt me.”
“You can’t do this,” I say, my voice a little less hostile. “They’re my family. They’re all I have left.”
“Don’t fuckin’ lie to me, Waverly. You’ve done enough of that. They’re getting exactly what they deserve. If they had stayed out of my business, none of this would have happened. They chose to involve themselves, and now they’re going to pay the price.”
He doesn’t know I called Alarick.
I hang onto that little piece of information.
And then, I pray.
17
WAVERLY
We arrive at Dax’s place, and as we do, I can hear the sirens in the distance. They’re probably a few minutes away, but not far. Dax drives me down the driveway, and then, with a grin that I’ll forever remember in my mind, he reaches over and opens the door. “Say hello to the cops for me, will you? I hope they enjoy your DNA all over Bennett. You’re not walking away from this either. Get out.”
I stare at him. If I can distract him just long enough for the cops to arrive, I might very well be able to fix this.
“No,” I say, my voice strong, unwavering. “If I’m going down, you are too.”
He laughs. “I will shoot you, Waverly.”
“Do it then.”
I’m testing everything right now—praying that I’ve been right, praying that he’s actually felt something for me.
He holds the gun to my forehead and presses the cold end against my skin. “Get out.”
My lips tremble, but I hold his eyes. “No.”
“I’ll fuckin’ kill you, Waverly,” he roars.
“Then do it!” I scream. “Shoot me, Dax. I’m not getting out.”
He stares at me, and I see a flash, just a flash, of uncertainty in his eyes. He pants and his hand shakes just a little. If I could guess right now, I’d say everything inside of him is telling him to shoot me, but his heart is stopping him.
“Do it,” I whisper into the darkness. “Kill me.”
With an angry growl, he lowers the gun. He lowers it and he shoves me so hard I fall backwards out of the car. I haven’t worn a seatbelt since we got back in, and I’m starting to regret that decision as I hit the dirt on the ground with a thud that knocks the wind out of me. I lie there, dazed and confused. The car moves. Dax reverses it so hard I have to roll quickly to ensure I’m not run over.
Then, just like that, he’s gone.
He could
have killed me then. He could have taken my life and any information I had about him, and been done with it. It wouldn’t have mattered.
But he didn’t.
He didn’t shoot me.
I was right. All along, I was right.
Dax cared about me.
I push to my knees as the sirens get closer, and it’s so dark I can’t see if anyone is still at the house. Dax didn’t drive all the way in—just enough that he knows I won’t be able to get back out before coming up against the cops. I lift to my feet, and the burn of broken flesh on my knees and my hands makes me wince in pain, even my back aches, but I don’t care.
I stand and I run.
I run with all my might towards the house.
I get there just as Alarick, Mykel, Cohen and Bohdi are getting into the truck. They see me and they all stop, their faces scrunching slightly in horror.
“Waverly?” Alarick asks, his voice rough. “Is that you?”
“Waverly?” Mykel whispers, his voice horrified. He steps forward, reaching out for me but I’m too frantic. I’m too desperate for them to get the hell out of here.
“Why are you still here?” I cry. “The cops are coming. You need to leave. Alarick, why are you still here?”
He looks to me, and there is so much fear in his eyes. “We don’t have Kendric and Samson. They’re out there digging up fuckin’ Bennett’s body. They’re goin’ to get caught. We couldn’t fuckin’ leave them. We don’t leave a brother behind.”
Oh god.
No.
No.
This isn’t happening.
Please god, this isn’t happening.
THE SIRENS NEAR, AND I know the guys aren’t going to get out of here if they don’t go soon. I know where the body is; I’m the only one who does. Which means I need to be the one to find Kendric and Samson, and get them out of here before they get caught. Alarick doesn’t need to stay—none of them need to.
“I’ll find them,” I say. “Go, now.”
Alarick’s eyes narrow, and he shakes his head. “No.”
“Alarick,” I yell, my voice frantic. “You cannot stay here. Stop thinking about me; think about your club. He’s set this up. You will all go down. You need to leave, and you need to do it now.”