My eyes squeeze tight to stop any tears from falling. I’ve walked around whatever it is they have me locked up in over a dozen times but am still no closer to figuring it out. It’s pitch black and feels like it’s been about an hour, but it could have only been five minutes.
Adrenalin is starting to wane now, and my brain is kicking into gear. There is only one way in and out of here. I need to be ready. One thing is for sure, this is the man who killed Marshall. He was wearing a mask and gloves, he had a silencer on his gun. As much of a dick as Vance is, and no matter what Harry thinks of him, he doesn’t have these resources. Or contacts.
I hope. Maybe I should want it to be him, better the devil you know and all that. My pajamas are getting stiff from where his blood has stained them. I’d take them off if I wasn’t naked underneath. I’m glad when I got up to get a drink that I put something on.
My brain jumps back to the struggle. He was so silent I didn’t hear him coming. It was only pure luck that I glanced at the oven and saw his reflection. Instinct took over, and I swung, throwing the glass at him. Ironic given what happened with Vance and Mace.
When I laugh, it echoes around me. It’s cold as fuck, the ground is hard, and the walls are solid. I make my way to where I think the door is and feel around again, paying more attention. The walls are ridged, made of metal. What is this?
It is starting to dawn on me when a clang outside makes me stumble backwards. At least I hit the wall and not the floor. The whole wall opens up and before I can stop myself, I run at the man standing there, screaming and throwing fists.
He easily knocks me back and I slip and fall, this time I do hit the floor, hard, pain radiating up my tail bone. I refuse to let him hear that hurt.
Behind him there are lights, hundreds of them, the sound of machinery and vehicles driving. It comes to me all at once. I’m at the port and this is a shipping container.
He slams the door and for a moment we’re in darkness, then a blue light flickers on, he’s holding a lamp, the kind people put up to kill bugs. It makes it hard to see his face. It’s not the man who grabbed me. I’ve never seen him before in my life.
“Let me go, you fucking asshole.”
“Shut up,” he says. He doesn’t sound angry. He’s quiet, relaxed. Which is probably worse.
“If you think I’m going to sit back and take anything you throw at me, you got it wrong. You have no fucking idea who I am or where I come from.”
“Cassie Beillo, daughter of the Enforcer for Devil’s Chaos MC. I know exactly who you are. In fact, I know a lot about you. Including the fucked up thing you have going on with two bikers. So don’t try to make out to me like your better than anything other than a filthy fucking whore.”
The name calling doesn’t bother me, I’ve heard worse. Him knowing about Dominic and Eli is different. He’s been watching us. Why?
I need to play this smart. I can either pretend to be scared and catch him off guard, or argue.
“Where’s your little lackey?” I ask to throw him off. “Licking his wounds.”
“He’s dead.”
That throwsme. I don’t like being on the ground so get to my feet, touching my pocket. But he pulls out a gun, making me freeze.
“Yeah, you killed him,” he laughs. “That man had over ten years’ experience with the marines, was a mercenary for hire and a skilled killer. And you took him down with a fucking kitchen knife.”
I shake my head.
“Cut into one of his arteries. He’s lucky he made it back here with you before he fucking died. Lucky for me anyway.”
He sounds like an absolute psycho.
“It’s you isn’t it?” I say, not worrying about the fact I killed a man. That will come later. And, to be fair, he deserved it, so I’m not even sure I’ll be sad about it. “You’re the man she was running from.”
“I want to know where she is.”
“And you think I know?” I scoff.
“Cut the crap, I know what you’ve been doing. In fact, I made a deal with your motorcycle club so I could get closer.”
I don’t say anything because I don’t know what he’s talking about. I’m not sure if he understands how MCs work, and that women are kept out of it.
“The dumb fucker didn’t have a clue. I even made money off of it. I want to know where she is.”
“You’ll never find her.”
“That remains to be seen. No one knows where you are. I could put you on a ship and send you halfway across the globe. You’d be locked up in here for months, pissing and shitting and starving.”
