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)
“A week?” Brenna gawked at her in utter horror. Seven whole days. What the hell?
Kelsie shrugged.
Now that a few minutes had passed, Brenna’s eyes adjusted to the low lighting. She glanced around their small space, but there was nothing to see. The walls and ceiling were made of rock, giving the impression they were in some underground cave. A bucket sat in one corner of the primitive room. She guessed what it was for but didn’t want to think about it too closely. No cot, no pillow, no blanket, no nothing. Just a barren room with a solemn cellmate.
She took a moment to study her companion and immediately wished she hadn’t. Kelsie’s blue eyes were bleak, almost desolate. Her light hair seemed cleanish, as though she’d been able to wash it a time or two in the week she’d been there, but that didn’t make sense considering their meager accommodations.
The younger woman wore a matching olive-green sweatshirt and sweatpants, her only barrier against the damp chill of the underground prison.
What had Brenna’s stomach turning was the deep purple bruise on Kelsie’s cheek, her swollen lower lip, and the blatant finger marks on her neck. The way she sat, curling herself into as small a ball as possible, also set off the worst kind of alarm bells. Someone had hurt her recently, and Brenna had a sickening feeling she knew what kind of torture Kelsie had endured. If this were indeed a human trafficking situation, the poor woman would have profound trauma to recover from. Was this whole club a front for moving kidnapped women in and out of Florida? Would they be moved out of Florida?
How stupid could she have been to confront Oliver on her own?
No one knew where she’d gone tonight. She hadn’t told a single soul she’d decided to meet Oliver herself like an absolute idiot. She’d known Lock wouldn’t allow it, and now she understood why. Now, she’d pay for her foolish naivety. But what would they do to her? Would she be sold off to serve at the will and pleasure of some rich psychopath? Or was her mind spiraling out of control? She was terrified to ask questions but had to know before she drove herself mad with worry.
Her chest tightened again as she looked into Kelsie’s bleak eyes. “Kelsie, where are we? What is this place?” she whispered.
If it was possible, Kelsie’s face grew even more grim.
“Hell, Brenna. We’re in Hell.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
NO ONE HAD seen or heard from Brenna in seventeen hours, and Lock was out of his fucking mind with terror. He’d imagined every scenario, from her leaving him of her own free will to some sociopath snatching her off the street to reenact scenes from Saw.
He grabbed a glass off the bar and whipped it across the clubhouse with the speed of a bullet. It hit a wall, shattering in an eruption of sharp shards. He’d like to gather those shards and carve them into Oliver’s skin because that motherfucker had something to do with this.
Lock knew this with every fiber of his being.
Oliver hadn’t shown up for work, nor had he been at his house all day.
Coincidence?
I think fucking not.
He braced his hands on the bar and bowed his head as he fought to rein in his fury.
“Prospect!” Jinx shouted. “Clean that mess up.” He turned toward Lock. “Third one in twenty minutes, brother. Might wanna give the guy a break.”
Lock speared him with a lethal look that had him lifting his hands.
Jinx snorted. “Sorry. I’ll keep my mouth shut.”
“I’m losing my mind, Jinx,” he said. It felt as though a thousand fire ants marched across his skin, ripping and tearing at his flesh, and that was a fraction of the internal pain Brenna’s disappearance caused. The racing thoughts wouldn’t quiet. Had she crashed her car? Was she lying on the road, bleeding and wishing someone would stop to help? Did a fucking alien ship land in her yard and ship her off to another planet?
Had fucking Oliver messed with her?
Bingo.
“I know. Here.” Jinx slid a tumbler his way. “Drink it… don’t throw it.”
“I can’t.” Even if he hadn’t been steering clear of alcohol, he needed a clear mind to think. He needed to feel the pain and let it fuel him.
“It’s water. You haven’t had anything to eat or drink since we realized Bren was missing. Fucking drink it before you pass out. Or murder someone.”
“If we find Oliver, you better let me kill him.”
Jinx grunted. “Oh, I’ll hold him down as you tear out his heart, brother.”
Nodding, Lock lifted the glass to his lips. He chugged the icy water. It tasted delicious and felt even better. He must have been more parched than he’d realized.
He set the glass down and then watched a drip of condensation slide from the rim to the small puddle forming around the tumbler’s base. His insides were a tumultuous storm of pain, fear, and anxiety. Christ, he hated the waiting. The club was doing everything in its power to locate Brenna or Oliver, or fucking anyone who could toss them a morsel of information. So far, they’d come up empty. Hence, the feral beast inside him was fighting to be let free.