Bend

by Sophia Gray

  And for once, I did. Not Ma or Elle, but Shane? Yeah, I believed he needed to die. And while something inside me still squirmed at the idea of having to be the one to do it, I knew I couldn’t rely on anyone else for this. He was my brother, my responsibility. “I do,” I said in a low voice, and in that moment, there couldn’t have been any questioning what I meant by that.

  I saw Shane’s hand twitch and begin to move around behind him, probably reaching for the gun that he would have hidden in the same spot I did. I did the same, but before either of us could get to our guns a shrill scream sounded into the night, echoing from inside the house only to be tamped down by the snow.

  “Elle!”

  I forgot about the gun and about Shane. I shoved past him and raced towards the door, which still hung open, desperate to get to Elle. God, tell me I’m not too late! Panic rose in my chest. I made it to the porch and almost reached the door, but before I made it a hand wrapped around my upper arm and jerked me back. I swiveled around only to get a hard fist to the face.

  I stumbled back from the force of the blow, my hand automatically going to clutch at my nose, which didn’t feel broken, but was definitely bleeding. I looked up to see he’d managed to get a hold of my gun when he’d swung me around and was grinning triumphantly now. He didn’t use it, though. Instead, he tossed it away to land in the snow somewhere on the other side of the balcony.

  I didn’t know why, but sensed his need for physical violence tonight.

  Shane was already coming at me again. I had a moment to wonder why he hadn’t gone for his gun before he grabbed me by the collar of my shirt. He jerked me up again and cocked his hand back as it formed into a fist, ready to hit me again. “I’m going to enjoy this,” he said right before he swung at me again.

  I jerked out of the way of his fist, letting it slam against the siding of the house instead. He cried out in pain and rage, but it was enough for me to slip out of his grip. I swung around myself with a hard fist to his ribs, hoping to bruise his kidneys enough to make him go down.

  It didn’t work.

  Pissed off, Shane had evidently decided he wanted to beat the shit out of me, but not at the expense of losing the fight. He reached around again for his gun, but I saw it coming this time. I rushed him.

  I barreled into him, grabbing him around the waist until we both tumbled back. He slammed into the banister hard enough to shake snow and several icicles loose up from above. I tried to get to his gun, but he squirmed out of the way, shoving me back far enough to give me a hard kick to the chest. I grunted in pain, spiraling away from him.

  He reached for his gun again and this time got a good grip on it. He aimed it at me and I only just ducked in time to dodge the bullet. I landed hard on the porch, my already injured shoulder taken the brunt of the blow. I cried out and felt my vision clouding, but reminded myself I had to keep moving or I was dead.

  Another shot rang out, but I was already scrambling out of the way. I jumped off the porch, ending up rolling around in the snow.

  Shane fired several more shots after me before I finally heard that lifesaving click that told me he was out of bullets. He cursed. “Shit!”

  I took that opportunity to come up with a new plan. My gun was buried in the snow somewhere off the side of the porch. Shane’s was out of ammunition, but he might get enough time to reload. I had to do something now. I looked up, searching for options, and that was when I saw the icicles again.

  Big, thick icicles with sharp points. Several had already broken loose and landed heavily on the porch before shattering.

  My eyes dragged down to where Shane was standing, only inches from them. Everything seemed to be moving in slow motion. My shoulder throbbed and was probably bleeding again. Shane was slapping at his gun, trying to reload quickly. And those icicles dangled precariously overhead, close to me, close to him.

  Maybe it was dangerous since one could hit me, too, but I didn’t have my gun and I couldn’t wait any longer to try to wrestle Shane’s away from him.

  I lunged at the porch, grabbing the railing with one hand and with the other I reached for him. I grabbed him by the shirt and jerked him back, using our combined weight and gravity to pull us down. His eyes widened in surprise. I knew if this was going to work, it was going to be now or never. I grabbed Shane’s gun toting hand by the wrist. He’d managed to put a new magazine in it and there was a round in the chamber. I slammed his wrist against the banister hard, hoping to dislodge another icicle, and hoping it would land where I needed it to. But the shove wasn’t hard enough to dislodge anything.

  I slammed his hand again. He cried out in pain, his free hand trying to get ahold of me while I tried to hold him off. I slammed his hand a third time and that was when the gun went off.

  It was pointed up towards the sky. Towards the overhang that only barely covered us. The bullet hit the edge of that overhang, shattering one of the icicles and dislodging another.

  If I hadn’t been trying to do just that, it would have hit me. But I’d been waiting for it, trying for just that thing to happen, and I was prepared. I jerked back away from Shane and before he had a second to register what was happening the icicle fell. It hit him point first in the throat, that spot between his shoulder and his neck. Blood spurted instantly as the sharp object went in deeper than I would have guessed. Shane’s eyes widened in surprise and his free hand clutched at his throat. The other jerked and a second shot went off. More icicles fell, another hitting his leg as he fell.

  Blood stained the snow, pouring from his wounds and his mouth. His eyes jerked to me. I thought he was going to try to shoot me again, but his grip on the gun lessened and then finally released. Instead, he mouthed, “Help.”

  A year ago, I might have stopped to help him. But a lot of things were different a year ago and I had more important things to worry about.

  Like Elle.

  I remembered her scream. Turning away from Shane, who was still trying to stop the blood and call out for help, I ran up the porch steps again and headed for the door. This time no one stopped me as I raced inside, hoping against hope Elle was there and she was fine. I prayed I wasn’t too late.

  Chapter 6

  Elle

  There was something about knowing you were going to die that was both utterly terrifying and strangely liberating. Nothing I was going to do would change the outcome of tonight, so why not speak my mind? Why not do all of the things I had always wanted to do? Why not take some risks?

  Of course, all of these things made infinitely more sense if I weren’t strapped down to a chair unable to move.

  I should have felt relieved when Shane left. After all, he was more or less the means of my destruction. I hoped it would at least be quick, my death, but mostly I just tried not to think about it. I still had hope that maybe Ciaran would come for me. Shane certainly seemed to think so.

  My heart wanted to believe it was because of something sweet like love, but the more practical part of my mind reminded me if Ciaran did arrive to save me, it was because of a drive to protect me. After all, I’d professed my love for him and he hadn’t said a thing back to me. Not a single, solitary, darned thing. It was enough to break a girl’s heart—and it had.

  Guess I should be relieved for the whole kidnapping thing, I thought wryly. After all, it saved me from having to wallow over the shattered pieces of my heart.

  I told myself I was being melodramatic, but I couldn’t shake it. It hurt to know Ciaran had rejected me, and while I tried to remind myself he was the more reasonable one for it, I couldn’t deny how much it stung. We’d only known each other for days, but they had been powerful days. I’d gotten a glimpse inside of a complicated, handsome man who carried with him scars and secrets and a kindness that ran as deep as a mine. How could I not fall for someone like that?

  Doesn’t make it less foolish, my mind whispered to me treacherously.

  After all, what was the line? Only fools rush in? Well, I was definitely a fool, and I
felt the full force of that. I shouldn’t have fallen so hard, so fast, but I just couldn’t seem to help it. Ciaran wasn’t like anyone I had met before. He was dark and powerful, but more than that. He seemed to connect to me. Maybe it was the confidence he exuded or just the way he seemed to be cocky one minute and then comforting the next. Maybe I just had a thing for taking care of guys, I didn’t know.

  But I did know I wanted Ciaran. Having him physically had pushed those boundaries until I stumbled over the edge and now I wanted him in my life as a permanent fixture.

  It sucked to know he didn’t want the same.

  And this is what you’re focusing on while being a kidnapped prisoner in a crazy motorcycle gang leader’s house after a man just tried to stick his hands between your legs all the while knowing you’re not going to make it through the night?

  I was messed up. But then, maybe I just didn’t want to think about my situation.

  But you have to! You have to get yourself out of here!

  That determined little voice in my head was urging me to not give up, and to not wait on any knight in shining armor to come save me, no matter how much I really hoped he would. I looked towards the door in front of me. There was another one behind me that led to the room where I had first met Shane, the one with the fireplace. I wasn’t sure where the one I was staring at led to, but it was where Shane had exited.

  Had he been leaving the house? Was that the exit? Maybe Shane had been leaving to...go somewhere?

  Doubtful, I thought dejectedly.

  If Shane was using me as bait to get to Ciaran, then it was doubtful that he would leave me alone and wander off to do something. He was waiting on Ciaran, after all. He wouldn’t miss his chance to catch him.

  And kill him.

  That thought shot through me like a quick, hot knife. I swallowed heavily and tried to tell myself that wouldn’t happen. Even if Ciaran came, he would survive. He’d manage to get himself out alive, even if in the end he didn’t save me.

  Though saving both of us would be better, I admitted silently to myself.

  I really didn’t want to die tonight.

  Standing next to the door where Shane had left was Bryce. Every time I’d tried speaking to him, he hadn’t said a word. He just remained standing by that door, silent and staring straight ahead. He didn’t even glance in my direction. Which was a marked improvement from the last asshole, but that didn’t mean I was necessarily comfortable with this guy.

  Would he be the one to kill me? One call from Shane and then bam? Dead?

  I didn’t want to think about it. Maybe I can appeal to his conscience. It sounded like a kind of harebrained idea at this point—it hadn’t exactly worked out so well with Shane. But I decided it was better than just sitting here waiting for my demise.

  Clearing my throat, I tried to get his attention. He didn’t even glance at me. “Hey. Hey, you. Bryce?” Nothing. I cleared my throat again and kept trying. “I, um, I’m Elle. I’m...” I fell short there. What exactly was I supposed to say to him? I hadn’t the foggiest. Introducing myself as the kidnapped victim that was going to die sometime tonight didn’t really seem like a wise decision, so I ended up falling silent for a moment.

  When he remained silent, I tried again. “You’re Bryce, right?” Still nothing. “Um, have you been with the Irish Hounds long?”

  I figured that at the very least the stupidity of my question might draw his attention, but he didn’t even bat an eye. He might as well have been a statue. I let out a frustrated breath and wondered how in the hell I was going to get anywhere.

  “Um, do you think I could use the ladies’ room?” I held my breath. I didn’t need to pee, and I definitely didn’t want to try to do it with him watching, which was probably how he would insist on doing it. I’d had enough with pervy guys for the evening, thank you very much. That being said, if I could get him to take me to the restroom, then I would at least be untied and maybe I could make a break for it. Be a heroine and save myself.

  Fat chance, I thought, but I was hopeful just the same. I already knew I was going to die, what did I have to lose?

  For a long, drawn out moment, he was silent. I thought he wasn’t going to answer me after a while and that he just didn’t give a damn if I wet myself, when he finally moved. His eyes darted over to me and he pursed his lips together tightly. He made a grunting, unhappy noise in his throat, then said, “Can’t you hold it?”

  Score! I thought triumphantly, and had to fight back a smile.

  I shook my head and tried to look pathetic. Which wasn’t as difficult as it should have been. I even tried to squirm a little to show that I really needed to go.

  Bryce still looked uncertain, but after a moment, he let out another groan. “Seriously? This is just my luck. I hate babysitting jobs!”

  I did my best not to take offence at the babysitting crack. It helped when I saw him reluctantly begin to move towards me. Oh my God, this is actually going to work! I thought, both shocked and thrilled. Maybe I would actually save myself!

  Bryce took his sweet time getting over to me, as though he were debating each and every step, but eventually he stopped right in front of me. He looked down at me warily, then glanced behind him at the door again. He sighed, then looked back to me. “You’re sure it can’t wait?”

  I shook my head emphatically. “Please.”

  With another sigh, he crouched down in front of me and began undoing the bindings around my hand. “I don’t want any trouble, you understand?” I nodded silently as he continued to work. He glanced up at me as he finished undoing the knot around my left hand. “I’m serious. Shane wants you alive for now, but if I tell him I had to choose between killing you and letting you escape, I’m sure he’ll see it my way, understand?”

  I swallowed hard, but nodded again.

  He moved on to the other hand and I felt a surge of adrenaline race through me. This was it. My chance. He’d untie me and then I could—

  “What the fuck are you doing, Bryce?”

  A cold washed through me at the sound of that voice. I recognized it. It belonged to the man from earlier. John.

  Bryce jerked back from me, straightening up. He’d barely even loosened my right hand, but my left was still free. I debated undoing my right arm myself, but didn’t dare move.

  Not with that asshole now in the room.

  “She needs to use the damn bathroom, man,” Bryce explained, sounding both whiny and a little apologetic. Like maybe he was being caught red handed.

  “And you were just going to untie her?” John demanded angrily, his eyes darting to me and back to Bryce. He stalked into the room and I flinched. I really didn’t want him anywhere near me. Bryce opened his mouth to say something, but John cut him off. “You don’t think maybe that’s just a trick? That maybe she was trying to get you to untie the stupid bitch?”

  Bryce looked uncomfortable, then groaned. “Damnit, you think so?”

  John rolled his eyes. “Jesus, what were you born yesterday? Of course that was what she was doing!”

  Sighing, Bryce scratched his head. “Yeah, probably right. Don’t tell Shane about this?”

  John hesitated looking like he would just love to tell Shane about this, but then he got a cold gleam in his eye that I definitely didn’t like. He smiled at Bryce. “Oh, sure, buddy. I’ll keep your secret. But you’ve gotta keep one for me, too.”

  Bryce frowned. “What secret?”

  “That I was here.” His eyes flickered to me and I saw the hunger there. And it wasn’t a hunger I really wanted to think about. I tried not to tremble, but fear grabbed hold of me. “And leave me alone with her for a minute.”

  Bryce looked uncomfortable for a moment and I thought maybe he would tell John to back off, but then I remembered I was a hostage, Bryce didn’t know me, and John was his friend. Or coworker. Or whatever. My heart fell when I heard him say, “Yeah, all right. I want out of here for a minute anyway.”

  When Bryce left, I felt hope l
eave with him. I didn’t have any particular attachment to him, but I knew instinctively that he was safer than John. The door shut behind him and I was left alone with this animal.

  “Just you and me, honey,” John told me, moving closer.

  I gripped the armrests of the chair, wishing there was something I could do. But I was trapped, and no one was going to save me.

  “Now, where were we?”

  John reached for me. His left hand found my thigh and started to jerk my dress up high so he could reach beneath it. I tried to squirm away from him, but I couldn’t go anywhere. When his face leaned close to mine, his right hand moving to cup my breast, I tried to scream. His mouth covered mine, however, and swallowed the sound. I tasted the tobacco on his tongue and wished I could gag. I realized my left hand was still free and I reached up, slapping and punching at him as best I could. It was enough to get him to break the awful kiss and laugh at me.

  “Oh, feeling feisty, are we?” he mocked. He removed his hand from my breast and grabbed my wrist to keep me from hitting him again. He slammed it down painfully on the armrest and leaned in again to kiss me. I felt his hand crawl up my leg, finding bare flesh.

  I tried to scream again and this time when he kissed me to cover it up, I bit his tongue. I could taste blood.

  Jerking back from me, he roared in pain and anger. “You stupid bitch!” he screamed. He jerked his hands off of me, then spit blood onto the carpet. His eyes flashed with rage. He reached behind him. A second later he pulled out a pistol.

  I screamed. I screamed as loud and as hard as I could, tears in my eyes, fear in my heart. I knew that I was going to die. My only hope was that I would do so before he got the chance to have his way with me.

  “Shut up!” he yelled, and pulled the gun around, smacking it hard across my cheek.

  My vision blurred as pain swelled in my face.

  “I’ll teach you a lesson!”

  I turned just in time to see John coming towards me again. But before he followed through on his threat, Bryce burst through the door again. “Shit, John, we gotta go!”