“Okay. Okay, baby girl. You’re safe. Is your friend still with you?”
The pressure on my back eases slightly as Bane shifts, clearly listening.
“Some guy tried to grab you?” Journey’s voice goes deadly quiet. “What do you mean, tried to grab you?”
Oh no.
“She pepper-sprayed him? Good. That’s good. Where are you now?” Journey pauses, listening. “All right. Go to my apartment. Lock the doors. Don’t open them for anyone. You understand?”
Another pause.
“I don’t give a fuck if you think I’m overreacting,” his voice is more demanding. “Girls have been going missing for months, and you’re not about to be their next victim. Got me? Now do what the fuck I said, and go to my place. Now.”
My eyes widen.
They’re talking about human trafficking.
“I’ll be there soon,” Journey continues. “Stella. Hey. Listen to me. You’re okay. You got away. You’re safe. Don’t cry, darlin’. You’re killin’ me here.”
The line goes quiet for a moment, then Journey exhales hard. “Love you too, baby girl. Now go.”
He ends the call, and the truck fills with a tense silence.
“Fuck,” Bane growls above me.
“Change of plans, bro,” Journey says, his voice hard. “We need to get to the clubhouse and talk to Tacoma.”
“Yeah.” Bane’s hand finally lifts off my back, and I suck in a deep breath through my nose. “This shit is hitting way too close to home.”
“What about the girl?” Journey asks.
There’s a pause, and I can feel Bane’s eyes on me.
“Guess she’s coming with us,” he says, and I hear something in his voice. Resignation? Annoyance?
I try to sit up, but Bane’s hand lands on my shoulder, keeping me down.
“Stay,” he orders, like I’m a damn dog.
I growl around the gag, which only makes him chuckle.
“You’re cute.”
I am not cute, you psychotic asshole.
The truck speeds up, and I lose track of time lying here with my face pressed against the leather, my shoulders screaming from the awkward angle of my arms behind my back.
After what feels like forever, the truck finally slows and turns.
Gravel crunches under the tires.
“We’re here,” Journey announces. “Hope you’re ready for your brother to blow a fucking gasket.”
Here? I try to lift my head. Where’s here? Their murder dungeon?
The truck stops, and Bane opens the door. Cool night air rushes in, and I suck it in through my nose.
“Up,” Bane orders, grabbing my arm and hauling me upright.
