Brothers in Arms Read online Penny Dee (Kings of Mayhem MC #2)

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Biker, MC, Romance, Suspense Tags Authors: Series: Kings of Mayhem MC Series by Penny Dee
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Total pages in book: 60
Estimated words: 56314 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 282(@200wpm)___ 225(@250wpm)___ 188(@300wpm)
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“I need to pee,” I croaked, now fully aware of my aching bladder. “And if you don’t want me making a mess of your sheets . . .”

He said nothing. He simply made sure my blindfold was secure before leaning down to undo my wrist binds.

I took the moment to try to work out who he was. Was that a familiar smell? Did I recognize it?

Yes, he smelled familiar.

“Get up,” he said gruffly when I was free.

Not sure if he was going to hit me again, I cautiously sat up. My head spun with pain and the blood whirling in my ears, and I had to bite back my fear as I swung my legs over the side of the bed. Gingerly, I felt for the floor with my feet.

Where was I?

A pair of hands pulled me to my feet and then settled on my shoulders. With a shove, he pushed me across the room and through a doorway. Placing his hands back on my shoulders he hustled me along a corridor. I pushed my hands out in front of me, feeling in the air for anything I might walk into. My breathing was heavy and my pulse thumped wildly in my neck. Keep calm. Keep calm. Take in your surroundings. When my palms hit the doorframe in front of me, my captor shoved me again so I stumbled into the bathroom and fell.

When I climbed to my feet, he was right behind me.

“Don’t try anything stupid,” he whispered in my ear. I felt the unmistakable coolness of a blade against my throat. “Or I might have to get creative when I catch you.”

The door closed and I took a moment to calm myself. When I was sure I was alone I quickly ripped off my blindfold. Light stung my eyes as I looked around me. I was dressed in nothing but my tank top and a pair of panties. My legs were cold and I was desperate for a drink, but I was more desperate to escape. I swung around, checking for a window to escape through, but the only window in the room was bolted closed.

Right. If escape wasn’t an option, then I needed to arm myself. I scanned the room for anything I could use as a weapon. Anything. But the room was sparse. I went to the medicine cabinet, hoping for a razor blade, a pair of scissors—something! But apart from a cake of soap, a tube of antiseptic cream, and some kind of body balm, there was nothing.

I closed the mirrored cabinet door and felt suddenly overwhelmed by the situation. My head dropped to my hands. I had to find something to protect myself with because this might be the only chance I got. Who knew what hell waited for me when I left this room?

Lifting my head, I stared at my gaunt reflection in the tarnished mirrored door. The wound to my lip had been deep but it had scabbed over. Blood from the pounding I had taken to my nose had caked beneath my nostrils. Both my eyes were black and I was already showing signs of dehydration.

I turned on the faucet and bent down so I could hungrily gulp back mouthfuls of cool water until I was breathless. Straightening, I wiped the water from my chin and tried to steady my nerves. I lifted my eyes to look at myself in the mirror.

You have to get out of here.

You have to fight.

My gaze shifted to the dirty hand towel hanging by the basin and a plan quickly formed in my mind. Grabbing it, I wrapped it around my arm before I took aim at the mirrored door with my elbow. I had no idea if this would work, or if it would alert my capturer to the fact I was disobeying his don’t try anything stupid demand. But I had to try.

I coincided a well-timed cough with smacking my elbow into the mirror. Pain shot up my arm to my jaw, and for a moment I saw stars, but my reward was the muffled crack of glass. Thankfully, it didn’t shatter into pieces and simply cracked at the point of contact.

With fingers caked in dried blood, I loosened a shard out of the mirror and rolled it about in my hand, getting a feel for it. Granted, it wasn’t a knife. Or a gun. But it could mean the difference between me surviving, or me dying.

Taking care of my need to pee, I considered my plan. As soon as my captor was close enough, I would stick the shard straight into his neck and run for my life. But I only had one chance, so I had to get it right. I would aim for the jugular and I wouldn’t miss. It would be quick and it would be lethal.


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