My heart hammers wildly as he whispers the next words.
“And now,” he breathes, “we get to take out their sins on you.”
“Should we tie her down now?” Hound asks as he grabs his crotch. “Can’t wait to see the little bitch naked.”
“Not yet,” Vandal says. “There are still people in the building. We have to wait until everyone leaves. I want her screaming when we rape her.”
I use my tongue to try to dislodge the gag, but they’ve tied it too tightly. I can’t budge it. I consider rocking the chair until I topple to the ground, but I don’t see how that will help. If I could just loosen the ties binding me to the chair, I might be able to free one of my hands. If I can do that, I can scream until someone comes to rescue me.
“We should have taken her somewhere else,” Hound complains.
The sound of a slap and grunt pulls my attention. Hound is rubbing the back of his head while Menace scowls at him.
“Hiding here was a brilliant idea. The place will empty soon, and then we can get started. The fucking Demon Dawgs would never think of looking for us here. They’re probably running around this forsaken city looking for the bitch,” Menace growls.
I glance around, looking for what? I don’t know. An escape? Help? But the lustful glances each of the six men sends my way tells me I won’t be getting help from them. I think about Bush, but the thought of him makes me cry harder. Just when we were starting a life together, this happens. I know whatever these men have planned for me will break him. He’ll blame himself for not protecting me. Thinking about how devastated he’ll be just adds to my despair. I force myself to think of something else. Wallowing won’t help me escape.
I think about Viper and Chill and how they’d handle this situation. Both women are tough and know how to take care of themselves. I remember Viper showing me all the items she hid in her kutte and her clothes. Items she once used to escape asituation like this. If only I had created the designs I had drawn the previous night. I’d have what I need to escape.
A loud noise from above me draws my attention. There are people only a few feet away who could help me, but they don’t know I’m in danger. I try screaming, but the gag muffles me. I try to scream louder, but the men just laugh at my attempts. They know no one will hear me.
My scalp still burns where Menace pulled my hair. I continue to twist my wrists in an attempt to loosen the bindings. I keep my breathing steady as the men move around the room. I can’t panic and give up. My head is clearer now, though the lingering dizziness still sways the edges of my vision.
Menace and Vandal stand with their backs against the wall as they keep their eyes pinned on me. I’m trying to ignore them, but the feel of their combined gazes makes my skin crawl. Jinx scrolls through his phone. At least he’s stopped filming. I can sense Hound and the others behind me.
“They’re still down there,” Hound says.
“Let me know when they leave,”
I force myself not to cry. Crying won’t help. Bush will come. The thought feels fragile, but I cling to it anyway.
Then a sound cuts through the room.
Metal scraping against metal. My head lifts. The sound echoes through the walls—deep, industrial.
A moment later comes the low mechanical groan of heavy gears turning.
My pulse jumps. It’s a freight elevator, and it’s moving.
It rumbles somewhere nearby, the vibration faint beneath the concrete floor.
No one else seems to notice. Instead, they keep talking, laughing, shifting around like predators in a den.
But I listen. The grinding chain and the creaking cables as the elevator passes the room we’re in. The sound fades, and myheart sinks. Vandal mentioned that there were people still in the building. Was that them leaving? Are we alone now?
Minutes drag by, and every second stretches painfully long.
Menace lights a cigarette. Jinx scrolls through his phone again. Marcus keeps watch near the doorway like a guard dog. At least they aren’t moving in my direction.
Then the sound returns. Grinding metal and rattling chains herald the return of the freight elevator. It’s going back up. However, instead of passing us by, it stops. My breathing quickens. Is this a rescue?
Every Bushranger in the room freezes. Vandal’s head snaps toward the door.
“Someone’s here,” Marcus mutters. All six men remove their guns and move toward the elevator. On the other side comes a sound of women laughing.
“It’s party time, girls!” one sings out as the protective gate slides open.
The Bushrangers relax when they hear the voices. Each slides his gun back into the waistband of their jeans. They span out around the elevator, hiding me from view. I want to call out to the women to run. I don’t want anyone else to suffer.
