"Hello, Lilly." I don't recognize the man standing in front of me, but I sure as fuck recognize the cut-off he's wearing. Moccasins.
"Youreallydon't want to do this," I grit, rolling my eyes at how absolutely stupid these assholes are.
"Oh, I do actually. See, I'm in the business of accumulating rare items. And you, sweetheart, are a one of a kind. Cass's ol' lady," he says proudly. He's so proud of himself now, justwaituntil Cass gets his hands on him.
I don't say anything. I'm not about to entertain this piece of shit. I stare at the man before me. He doesn't look like the other Moccasins that had kidnapped me before. He's put-together. Clean cut. His hair isn't greasy or matted. His teeth are perfect. He's dressed nice and hell, even his boots are clean and in great condition. I am curious what the motive is here. His phone rings in his pocket and he answers it, a little too cheerily.
"Yes? She is. What time? Perfect. See you then."
I don't know who was on the other end of that call, but I have a sneaking suspicion that I'll be finding out sooner rather than later. I should be terrified, but I'm not. If I'm a pawn, they aren't going to hurt me, especially if they're using me to get something that they want. Whoevertheyare.
I look around at my surroundings. I'm in a small room with tile flooring and sheetrock walls. They're a peach color and there's a decorative table near the doorway. I'm tied to an office chair and I glance behind me, spotting a round table with other office chairs around it. I have no idea where I am, but wherever we are, we aren't in some janky trailer like last time. This is somewhere classy, which gives me a whole new strand of questions.
"Good news! We don't have to spend much time together after all. It was a pleasure meeting you, but it's time for you to be sent to your forever home!" he says with a wicked smile on his face. Upon further inspection, I determine that he's wearing black eyeliner. I don't comment on it, no matter how badly I want to. I believe I made it here without taking a hit or being beaten, and I'd like to keep it that way. If I open my mouth, then I may not stay in this condition.
He's got tattoos on his neck and face and the one that sticks out the most is the curved sword that follows his jawline, curves up toward his ear on his cheek, and the point ends at the bottomof his sideburn. It's a rust-color and it's a very identifiable marker.
A knock at the door makes me jump and I find myself holding my breath when he reaches for the doorknob. The door opens and I'm met with a familiar face. "No," I blurt. "Hello, future Mrs. Sonnier," Gater says with the most sinister grin on his face.
He's wearing a Moccasins cut-off, with a rank patch labeling him 'President'. He walks behind me and unties my hands, freeing me from the chair. He's got a death grip on my wrists, though, and no matter how hard I try to free them, it doesn't work. He's got at least a hundred pounds on me and is nearly a foot taller than I am. I'm fuming. I'm so mad I'm surprised that red smoke isn't bellowing out of my ears.
"Don't make this fucking difficult, you bitch," Gater barks, shoving me through the doorway. I walk quietly as he guides me toward the front door. Outside, there's a large wrap-around porch on the house and nothing but a huge, open field surrounding the house. There have to be at least ten acres cleared, maybe more and only a long gravel driveway leading out. Well, I assume it leads to the highway, I can only see it disappearing into the tree-line in the distance.
Gater's black lifted Toyota is parked in driveway beside two motorcycles and a blue, rusted Chevrolet Blazer that's got to be a nineties model. I commit the license plate to memory, repeating it over and over in my mind until I know it by heart. Gater shoves me into the bed of his truck, tying my hands behind my back before closing the tailgate. The bed cover keeps me shut in and I can't get it undone with my teeth, not from lack of trying.
I don't know how long I'm in this bed, but I do know that this truck rides horribly. So many thoughts are running through my mind. So many questions. I don't know what Gater's motive is. I do know he's probably the one who sent them into my house, telling them all of the ins and outs. And stupidly, I madeit so fucking easy for them. I was alone, high, and so fucking complacent. I should've been on guard. I should've known that I can never let my guard down. This life does not allow for that luxury. Ever. If I make it through this, I will be on guard twenty-four, seven.
I'm investing in a camera system first, then an alarm system. We must be riding through a town because we keep stopping, then going. We make a few turns and then we come to a stop. Gater puts the truck in park and opens the tailgate. I'm confused when I see my car in the driveway.Mydriveway.
Gater unties my hands, walks to the driver's side door, opens it and pauses.
"Tell Cass that I've got his fucking number and I can get you any time I want. And if he doesn't stop making this harder than it needs to be, I'll be back. This is youronlywarning, got it, sweet cheeks?" he asks with a crazed grin on his face.
"Fuck you," I spit, stepping two steps behind my driver's door. My pistol is in the door and I'll shoot him right here. My hand is on the door handle, ready to rip it off the fucking hinges if he so much as twitches in my direction.
"That mouth is going to get you in trouble one day, if it doesn't get you killed first," he grins, climbing into his truck and driving away. I watch until his truck is no longer in sight. Then I listen until I can no longer hear it in the distance. I run inside, locking all of the doors first before I search for my cell phone. It's on the couch where I fell asleep. Scooping it up, I rush into my closet and grab a few days worth of clothes and change into something more presentable than this.
I'm in my car and on the way to Linc and Mindy's before I make the first phone call. I call Cass and it rings twice before he picks up.
"Baby, are you okay?" he asks.
"Yeah. Wait, do you know what happened to me?" I ask, confused.
"No? I've just been trying to call you and couldn't reach you. What happened to you?" he growls.
"Gater happened," I tell him.
"What the fuck did he do to you?" Cass asks.
"Had one of the Moccasins kidnap me in the middle of the night, tie me to a chair, say that he was selling me only for Gater to walk in and throw me in the bed of his truck. To then drop me off in our driveway with a message for you," I word vomit everything he told me..
"What was his message?"
"Verbatim? 'Tell Cass that I've got his fucking number and I can get you any time I want. And if he doesn't stop making this harder than it needs to be, I'll be back.' He also said this was your one and only warning," I say.
"That bottom-feeding fucking scum," Cass growls. I can see the look on his face without looking at him. I know without a doubt that his brows are furrowed and his mouth is set in that tight line, the one that only happens when he's furious.
"I'm on my way to Linc and Mindy's. I haven't even called them yet."
