This isn’t just about getting Rose back. This is about sending a message: You don’t mess with the club. You don’t mess with me. And you sure as hell don’t mess with Rose.
I’ll put them in the earth myself if I have to. And I’ll enjoy every second of it.
Rose
I wake up in darkness.The moonlight filters through a small, grimy window high on the wall. How long have I been here? Rage still hasn’t found me. My head throbs, a deep pulsing ache that makes it hard to think. I wince as I shift, the pain flaring where his fist connected with my face.
The room is cold. My wrists and ankles are bound tightly, the rope cutting into my skin. I try to move, to wriggle free, but the rope burns. Everyone seems to be outside the trailer. I can hear music and laughter.
My mouth is parched. I need water. My tongue feels like sandpaper, and every swallow is a struggle. I lean back against the wall. My breaths are shallow and uneven. Tears fall harder, silent but relentless. I don’t want to give them that satisfaction, but I’m alone, trapped and helpless.
The door opens. I freeze, my breath hitching in my throat. Ivan steps inside, his massive frame filling the doorway. His face twists into a cruel smile, and my stomach drops.
“Looks like I’m fighting your man tomorrow. Finally, a proper fight, and I can claw back the money I lost when I win.” He crosses his arms. “And I’m going to smash his face in.”
A heavy unease settles in my chest. I can’t bear the thought of Rage stepping into the ring again and getting hurt because of me.
“When can I go home?” I ask, my voice small and shaky. I just realized that he didn’t use the duct tape—he probably thought knocking me out was easier.
His smile widens. “After the fight... But”—he leans closer, his eyes narrowing—“if they try anything, or if the police get involved, you’ll never see him again. I’ll make sure of it.” The warning is clear.
Tears threaten to spill again, but I blink them back, refusing to let him see me break. I hope Rage makes the right choices. I know what he’s like when he’s furious, but I have faith in him.
A sliver of relief flickers inside me that there is an end date to this hell. If everything goes okay, I’ll be back with Rage tomorrow. I cling to that thought like a lifeline, even as fear gnaws at the edges of my mind.
Ivan’s smile fades as he turns toward the door and slams it shut behind him. I flinch, the noise rattling my already frayed nerves.
And then I’m alone again, the silence pressing down on me. I pray that I get to see Rage’s face and feel his arms around me again. And as the tears fall, I wish that Rage will find me and bring me home.
I wakeup to the full ache in my wrists and ankles, the raw skin stinging with every small movement. My head throbs, but not as sharply as last night. The faint light tells me it’s morning. My throat is dry and my lips are cracked. I need to find a way to get out of here.
The door creaks open and I flinch instinctively, my body tensing. It’s not Ivan or his manager—it’s Ivan’s partner. She might be smaller than him, but her fierce presence is no less intimidating. Her sharp features are set in a scowl. Her eyes are cold as they sweep over me. In one hand she holds a water bottle, in the other is a gun.
“Do you need to use the bathroom?” she asks with a roll of her eyes.
I nod. My throat is too dry to speak. She steps forward and starts working on the knot binding my hands together. When she finally manages to get it loose, the relief is immediate, but the pain lingers where the rope had dug in.
“Don’t try anything,” she snaps, waving the gun around for emphasis. “Ivan’s not here, but I don’t need him to handle you.”
I nod again, keeping my eyes downcast. She shoves the water bottle into my hands, and I drink greedily. If Ivan’s not here, he must be training for tonight. It might be my only chance to escape.
She gestures for me to move.
“Can you undo the rope around my feet too?” I ask softly.
“Fine,” she says, her voice clipped and impatient.
When she undoes it, I stretch my legs; they’re stiff and sore. Then I walk to the bathroom. The trailer is small and cramped. My heart pounds as I glance around. The front door is only a few feet away. If I can get past her... without getting shot... I take a quick glance outside. The car isn’t there, so they’re gone like I thought they were.
When we reach the bathroom, I hesitate with my hand on the door. Rage’s voice echoes in my mind.If you’re ever in trouble, don’t hesitate.Go for the weak spots. Be fast. Be smart.
I turn suddenly, slamming the bathroom door into her face with all my strength. She stumbles back with a cry of pain. I lunge, aiming for her wrist, and knock the gun from her grip. It clatters to the floor. I kick it away.
She swings at me, blood gushing from her nose, but I duck, adrenaline surging through me. I jab her throat; she gasps. I don’t check if she’s okay. I rush to the locked door. I fumble but manage to get it open. The sun’s brightness has me squinting, but I bolt, my legs burning as I sprint away.
“Help!” I scream, my voice hoarse and desperate. “Somebody help me!”
No one comes out. It’s quiet. The windows are dark and closed. I run past trailer after trailer, my breath coming in ragged gasps. I hear the woman yelling. She’s furious. It only makes me run faster.
