“Still doesn’t mean that your fight-or-flight response won’t take over. I’m just warning you now that the best thing you can do is take my advice and fight any urges your body tells you. Listen to what we tell you, do as we tell you, and there won’t be any problems,” he threatens.
I blink and look at him as my heart starts racing. “Why do I need to fight my body’s urges?” I ask, my voice barely a whisper.
“Because you’re in a world where you don’t belong or understand. One wrong move is all it takes,” he adds.
We come to a stop at a set of large double doors. He pushes one open for me and gestures for me to enter. My body freezes, warning me that I don’t want to go in there, that whatever is past this entrance is something I may not survive.
“Fight your instincts and go in there,” he growls in warning.
I swallow, my mouth becoming drier than the desert. I take a slow step forward, fighting everything in me telling meto run.
Ignore my instinct. Do as they say,I remind myself over and over again.
I dare to look around the room and stumble at the sight before me. A single wooden chair sits in the middle of the room, surrounded by the rest of this gang, whoever they are.
“Sit,” the one with golden eyes orders.
My hands clench at my sides as I force myself to walk to the chair and sit down. Once I’m seated, one of them comes over and ties straps around my wrists and ankles, securing me to the chair.
My heart thunders in my chest as my breathing becomes erratic, and ice-cold fear cascades over me.
My gaze is wide. “What… what are you doing?” I ask, my voice wavering as I try not to scream and call for help.
The one with the golden eyes takes a step forward. He bends down and stares into my eyes.
“Maybe when you are in here, you’ll feel more encouraged to answer our questions. If at any point we think you are lying, Talon here will find ways to make you tell the truth.”
My gaze flickers to Talon, the silent one, the one who fixed me up. Was this their plan? Make me comfortable, let my guard down, and then torture me?
“I’ve told you the truth,” I say, my tone pleading. Iam not ashamed to beg for my life. I was always taught that everyone has a good nature, but some take longer to find it than others.
“Who are you?” I ask. Maybe if I get to know them personally, they won’t kill me.
He points to his chest. “Crimson Covenant. President.”
“You’re bikers?” I breathe.
I’ve heard stories about bikers from my town; ones that kill, rape, and steal. I assumed the older folk were being dramatic. I mean, when I got my small symbol tattoo behind my ear, Mrs. Wallows threw holy water at me and yelled about me being in a devil cult.
“You’ve heard of us,” the one with black eyes states.
I nod. “I live in the next town over.” I pause. “Melville,” I clarify.
They exchange a look. The silent one, Talon, takes a step towards me. I catch a glimpse of a needle in his hand, and I vigorously shake my head back and forth.
“Please, no. I’m telling you the truth,” I plead. Tears fill my eyes. I look to the club president, pleading with my gaze, shaking my head. “Please. Please,” I whimper.
His jaw tenses as he stares back at me, unmoving.
He isn’t going to stop it. Why would he? He’s the president of the club. He probably ordered it.
I grit my teeth and brace for the inevitable. The sharp jab of the needle pierces the top of my arm, and cold liquid spreads through me.
I blink, keeping my gaze steady. I can feel all their eyes on me. As I look around at each of them, I see they’re all watching me, but specifically at my arm.
I look down and see a small droplet of blood slowly trickle down my skin.
The president of the club steps forward, crouching down beside me. His amber eyes are almost glowing as he leans in and licks the trail of blood from my arm.
