My worst nightmare is coming back to reality. I would rather be dead than be here with him.
“You are probably wondering how I got out of prison. Well, I’ll tell you as I slowly break your body.” He walks over to the table full of tools.
He sets down the knife and comes back to me. His right hand moves and hits me in the stomach. My body swings from the impact as pain radiates through me. I groan from the punch, but also from the metal rubbing against my wrists.
“Well, I had some deals with the Italian mafia,” he says, picking up the knife again.
He stalks toward me and runs the blade across my exposed legs. I gasp when it cuts through my skin.
“Once they found out I was in prison, they wanted to get me out and go after you since you put me in there, but I managed to convince them not to.” He makes another cut on my other leg.
I bite my lip really hard, trying not to make any noise for his satisfaction. My teeth break the skin of my bottom lip, and blood dribbles down my chin.
“Once I was out of prison, they helped me find your location. You weren’t that hard to find. Oh, do you know how angry I became when I found out you were getting close to a biker?” Anger laces his voice.
He punches me in the face, blood pooling in my mouth. I spit it out, and some of it lands on his shoulder.
“You shouldn’t have done that,” he grunts, wiping it off
He glares at me and punches me again. Pain explodes through my jaw and tears well up in my eyes. Pain radiates all around my jaw as I move it.
“Oh, I’m going to love torturing you.” He smiles wickedly.
He repeatedly cuts my arms and legs, blood pouring out of me at a rapid pace. He punches my stomach, and my whole body burns. I feel lightheaded and dizzy as he continues his assault on my body. Black dots cover my vision, and I gasp for a breath of air.
“Nighty night.” Jared punches me in the face, knocking me out.
17
BEAR
“Did you expect her to come back and give you a hug?” Pres asks. “I didn’t think she was the hugging type.”
I turn over to where he sits, nursing a beer. I didn’t expect Brooke to give me a hug in public for another month or two. She is pretty shy around people and tends to keep to herself. I don’t blame her; everyone has eyes on her when she walks anywhere in the club. She is new, and she covers her whole body.
“No, I didn’t, but I’m not complaining. She is warmin’ up to me,” I say, walking toward my room.
“Come on, brother. Drink with us!” Mac yells.
“Just one. I have to leave after this,” I say, sitting at the bar.
Whiskey moves around the bar to get everyone their drinks. He goes down the line, placing our drinks in front of us. He sets a shot glass in front of me, but I hold up my hand.
“Whiskey, I’ll take a beer this time. I’ve got places to go, and Brooke will be back in an hour or two,” I say.
Whiskey smiles and nods before he hands me the beer. I lift the bottle by its neck and bring it toward my lips, but before I can take a drink, my phone starts to ring.
Once I have my phone, I turn it over and see who is calling me. My face scrunches up as I realize Brooke is calling me.
“Everyone, be quiet!” I yell.
They all look at me, and I pick up the phone. When I put it to my ear, I can hear Brooke’s breathing.
“Brooke?” I ask.
I don’t know how she is going to answer me. She hasn’t spoken a word since she got here. When I say her name, several bikers give me confused looks. Gears walks closer to me, on alert.
“Help,” Brooke says.
