Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 89934 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 450(@200wpm)___ 360(@250wpm)___ 300(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89934 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 450(@200wpm)___ 360(@250wpm)___ 300(@300wpm)
“Eventually, someone won. Me. They won me.” Her voice had become robotic, monotone, as though she was reading from a bland script instead of recalling a horrifying experience. “The guard dragged me to a room. I kicked and screamed the whole way, but he was strong. Really strong.”
Yes. Bolt had carried Brenna as though she weighed no more than a stuffed animal.
“The man…” She shook her head. “The monster who won me was in there. The guard left me with him, locking the door from the outside. Next—” Her voice cracked, and tears fell from her eyes. She pressed a hand to her lips and shook her head, rocking back and forth. “I can’t. No more.”
“Shh.” Brenna wrapped her arms around Kelsie. “You don’t have to.” She swayed with her as Kelsie’s tears turned to gut-wrenching sobs.
“Don’t fight, Brenna. You’ll want to fight when they take you but don’t. It makes it so much worse.”
The warning sent tendrils of icy fear crawling down her spine. “Y-you’re going to be okay. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, but you will be okay. I will make sure of it.”
The words were meant to reassure herself as much as Kelsie, but poised to suffer the same fate as the hysterical young woman, Brenna felt the first chink of doubt in her armor.
Would anything be the same again?
Would she be able to sit on the beach and enjoy the warm sun on her skin?
Would the taste of chocolate make her close her eyes and smile in delight?
Would she crave the touch of the man she loved?
Or would the bastards take that all from her?
As she cradled Kelsie in her arms, she closed her eyes. The rocks digging into her ass no longer registered, neither did the clammy chill of the room. All she could think about was the violation waiting for her.
She tried to push away the terror and allow visions of her new friends to dance behind her eyelids. Of little Caleb and his four-toothed baby grin. Of Lock, the man she loved but never had the chance to tell. The smile he wore when looking at her. The way he touched her without seeming to give it thought, even in his sleep. How he gave her pleasure she’d only dreamed of.
That’s where her mind needed to stay. Those were the thoughts she’d rely on to keep her sane when this nightmare dragged her deeper.
There wasn’t a doubt in her mind that Lock and the Handlers were searching for her and would find her. No matter what horrors awaited, she’d survive to get back to Lock and his adorable son.
She just hoped she wasn’t broken when she made it home.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
TWENTY HOURS AND counting.
And they had nothing.
Not one goddamn thing.
Copper, the president of the club’s mother chapter in Tennessee, had a connection with a guy named Acer who could make computers sing, dance, and blow him on command. He’d done some magic to triangulate Brenna’s phone. For a solid half hour, Lock had been convinced they’d found her. The whole damn club raced to the coordinates Acer provided, only to find the phone sitting on a soup display in a grocery store. Whoever took her was smart enough to lead them astray.
“God fucking dammit!” Lock shouted. Even standing in a huge grocery store, he felt the walls closing in. He struck out, catching the artful display with his foot as he cursed again—cans scattered in all directions, denting as they rolled across the floor.
A woman yelped, and customers cowered in fear as they watched a furious biker lose his damn mind.
“Get him the fuck outta here,” Spec ordered as he gave Lock a shove in Jinx’s direction.
“Sorry,” he mumbled, allowing Jinx to herd him outside. But he wasn’t remorseful. He didn’t give one single shit about the store or the cans or whatever Spec had to do to smooth things over. “I lost my shit.”
“Ain’t a thing,” Jinx said with a shrug. “Pretty sure I caused worse chaos purely for fun when I was a teenager.”
Lock grunted. Usually, he’d have a quip about being called a teenager, but he didn’t have the energy to think of anything but Brenna.
Where was she?
Was she hurt? Cold? Scared?
Was she thinking of him?
He climbed into Jinx’s truck and slammed the passenger door. No one had been willing to let him ride alone, so they’d force him into a cage with a babysitter.
“Fuck,” he said as Jinx slid behind the wheel. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he screamed the last one long and loud, slamming the heel of his hand on the dash repeatedly. “Christ, Jinx, what do I do if we find her and she’s—”
“Don’t say it. Chrissake, man, don’t even think it. It’s not going to happen.”
Blowing out a breath, he nodded. “You’re right. Okay. What the fuck do we do now?”