Property of Fox (Mayhem Makers: Bastard Boilers MC)

27. Brea

brEA

I wake up alone in tangled sheets, the morning light spilling through a window above and casting a soft glow over the room. I reach over, feeling for Fox’s sleeping form next to me, but his space is empty and cool to the touch.

I sit up, the sheets slipping off my body like water draining from a pond, and I can’t help but feel an ache of disappointment settle deep in my chest.

Where is he?

A twinge of anxiety flutters in my stomach as I swing my legs over the side of the bed, bare feet meeting the cold floor. The smell of burnt coffee wafts from somewhere nearby. Maybe that’s where Fox is. I push myself up from the bed, my mind still reeling from the whirlwind of last night.

I spot my bag from Fox's truck perched on top of a chest of drawers nearby. I rummage through the contents of my bag, retrieving a fresh set of clothes. I turn, looking for the bathroom, when I spot an open door a few feet away. Taking a chance, I step inside, feeling for a light switch, only to find it just inside the door. The light flickers, revealing a small, but fully equipped bathroom. The space is clean yet smells like Fox. Like home, if I dare to admit it. I step inside carefully, closing the door softly behind me.

As soon as I turn on the shower, steam fills up the room like a warm embrace. The sound of water cascading down makes everything else fade away for a moment—my thoughts about Fox’s confession bubbling to life amid this soothing backdrop. He told me he wanted to protect me; his voice had been low yet insistent, brushing against my skin like a tender caress even hours later. I step into the shower and close my eyes beneath runny rivulets pouring over my body; each droplet feels electric against my skin. The perfect antidote for all those moments spent worrying if maybe he'd pull back again once reality takes hold after our tangled night together. But there was something raw in his words that clung onto every syllable ‘I want you just as you are.’

What does that mean? My heart races thinking about how vulnerable I've felt lately… or perhaps it's more than merely vulnerability. It’s allowing myself to put my safety and trust into someone else’s hands.

I lean against the wall, letting the water wash away the remnants of anxiety as I contemplate Fox. The fight, the passion. It had felt so charged, so real, much more than this fleeting fling I had convinced myself it was. It’s so much more than that. Even with my threats of walking away from him, I knew, deep down, that doing that would rip me apart. It’s more than my body craving his touch. It transcends the bonds of physical barriers into something else. Something that feels like devotion, and love.

After a few more moments under the hot water, I finally turn off the faucet and step out of the shower, wringing my hair in a towel. I dry myself quickly, hurriedly tossing on dark jeans that hug my curves perfectly and an oversized blue sweater that feels soft against my skin.

I slip on my shoes and open the door to venture into what feels like another world entirely.

The common room greets me with laughter bubbling through warm sunlight filtering through half-drawn curtains. Hallie sits cross-legged on one end of the couch while Keira occupies its opposite side, both expertly balancing plates piled high with pancakes topped by mountains of syrup drizzled down like liquid gold.

"Good morning," Hallie's bright voice slices through layers of unease wrapped around me.

Keira's head snaps toward me too, her mouth full giving her tiny smile an unmistakably adorable touch as she swallows down food first. “About time. I thought I was going to have to send a search party for you after he dragged you away last night. You okay?”

"Yeah, I’m good," I reply, trying to mask the tinge of uncertainty edging its way into my tone. I move to join them, taking a seat on the armrest of the couch closer to Hallie. She turns to me, a soft smile on her lips. “Az told me what Asher said to you. I’m sorry he was such an ass to you.”

“He certainly knows how to make someone feel welcome.”

“Yeah, he was like that with me in the beginning. Not so much now, but he’s not really the warm and fuzzy type. You hungry? I saved you a plate before the guys devoured it all.”

“That would be great.”

Hallie sets her plate down on the coffee table in front of her before walking towards the kitchen. Leaving Keira and I alone.

“You okay?”

“Yeah, this place is kind of awesome. Hot guys, comfortable beds, good food. I mean, I could have done without the guard outside my door, but I get it. I’m not from around these parts,” she remarks.

“You had a guard?”

“Yeah, it’s not a big deal, B. You had Fox to watch you. I got a guard. He was cute, at least.”

“Have you seen Fox?”

“No,” she answers, taking another bite of her pancakes. “The guys just went into the big meeting room. I found Hallie while I was waiting for you to wake up.”

“But you didn’t see him?” I ask, feeling a twinge of worry settle in. I can’t shake the feeling something’s not right.

Hallie returns with a steaming plate piled high with fluffy pancakes and a generous dollop of whipped cream perched on top, and warm syrup. “Here you go,” she says with an encouraging smile. “Eat up! You need your strength to contend with these guys.”

“Thanks.” I take the plate and sink back onto the couch, digging into the mountain of carbohydrate goodness, savoring each bite as it melts in my mouth. My nerves start to settle, momentarily overshadowed by the comfort of food and laughter from Hallie and Keira as they talk about the signing we’d all just been at only a few days ago.

“Did you really meet Fox at the hotel bar?” Hallie directs towards me. “I never know when to believe he’s messing with me or telling me the truth when it comes to women.”

“Yeah, I did. I may have spilled my drink on him.”

“That would explain why he reeked of whiskey at the welcome party. Eden was so pissed at him thinking he showed up drunk to the event.” I stiffen at the mention of Eden’s name. Hallie catches my reaction. “He explained that the whole Eden thing was fake right?”

“Only after he got caught and I kicked him out of the house,” Keira chimes in. “He came back with his tail tucked between his legs to explain the situation.”

“Fox did that?” Hallie asks.

“Sure did. He already had it bad for Brea. You could see it from a mile away.”

I nearly choke on a piece of pancake, my cheeks blazing hot. “I wouldn’t say that,” I mumble, my voice barely rising above a whisper.

“Brea, please,” Keira rolls her eyes at me. “The guy was practically drooling over you. It was like watching a puppy try to get attention from its owner. Are you telling me you didn’t notice?”

I shift uncomfortably in my seat, feeling more exposed than ever under their scrutiny. “Okay, maybe there was some?—”

“Don’t you dare try to downplay it, B.”

“I’m not.”

“Leave it to my girl to snag her a real-life book boyfriend. Any of these guys single?”

Hallie’s chatter continues, something about her upcoming wedding, but I’m only catching snippets as unease slithers through me again. A gnawing sensation deep within my stomach keeps indicating something isn't quite right with Fox.

“Excuse me,” I say abruptly, setting down my fork and plate onto the coffee table before shoving up from the couch.

“You okay?” Keira asks. Her keen eyes watching me closely.

“Yeah, just going to go grab my phone.”

I make my way down the hallway, the sounds of laughter fading behind me while uncertainty rushes ahead like a dark cloud. Once back in Fox’s room, I spot my phone on the nightstand. A cord plugged into it from a wall charger. Fox’s doing because as soon as he loved me senseless, I crashed hard until I woke up this morning. I grab it from its spot, disconnecting the cord in the process, and start to scroll through my notifications. No texts or calls from Fox. I type out a text and hit send.

Where did you go?

I lean against the edge of the nightstand, biting my lip as I stare at my phone screen, willing it to light up with a response. The room feels too quiet, filled only with echoes of laughter from Hallie and Keira. My heart races in this bubble of anticipation mingled with anxiety.

Just when I'm debating whether it's worth heading back out there or crumbling into an anxious ball right here amongst his rumpled sheets and lingering scent, my phone vibrates violently in my hand.

My breath catches in surprise as I snatch it up within seconds: *Fox* flashes across the screen. I accept the call, dragging my phone up to my ear.

“Where are you? I didn’t like waking up alone this morning.”

I expect his voice to float through the line like cool summer breeze, but instead, a low and deep rumble answers. My heart sinks as I realize it’s not Fox.

“Your little boyfriend won’t be warming your bed anytime soon.” The tone is gravelly and terrifyingly familiar.

“Tank,” I murmur.

The name hangs in the air like a dark omen, my heart racing as panic grips me. "Why do you have Fox’s phone?" I demand, forcing a steadiness into my voice that I don't feel. “Where is he?”

“I wouldn’t worry too much about that, Brea. The two of us have more important things to talk about, don’t we?” Tank sneers, and I can practically picture him lounging back with a wicked smile curling his lips. My heart pounds louder as dread wraps around me, constricting my chest.

“If you’ve done anything to Fox?—”

“He’s still alive, for now,” he taunts me. “See for yourself.” A chime comes through the receiver. I pull away the phone, opening my messages as a horrifying image pops up on the screen. Fox’s head is hanging low against his chest. He’s chained to a chair. His shirt covered with blood.

I gasp audibly. “No!” It escapes as more prayer than protest.

“Worried, are you?” Tank chuckles darkly. “You should be. You see, Fox thought he could play hero for you.”

“Just let him go,” I plea.

“So naive. Just like your mother.” The mention of my mother sends a chill right through me. “What do you want?” I demand, my voice shaking. I can’t let him see how scared I am. Not now.

“Simple. A trade. You for him. You’re going to need to come alone if you want to see him again.” There’s a sinister pleasure in his voice, as if he’s savoring my unraveling. “If you show up with any of his friends with you, he dies. Simple as that.”

I grip my phone tightly, biting hard on my lip as I try to think through the haze of panic threatening to engulf me like smoke. The laughter from Hallie and Keira feels like a lifetime away now, a world that doesn’t belong with the grotesque reality unraveling before me.

“Tell me where,” I whisper finally. “Tell me where I need to go.”

“You’re smarter than you look,” Tank sneers. “Meet me at the old factory by the riverbank. You have two hours. No tricks, or Fox won’t be coming home.” The line goes dead.

I shove my phone into my pocket, spotting a set of keys on Fox’s side of the nightstand. I grab them, and rush down the hallway. Hallie and Keira sit comfortably, oblivious to the storm brewing just beyond them.

“I’m leaving,” I state, my voice shaky but firm.

“Leaving? Why?” Keira replies, her eyebrows raising in concern.

“There’s something I need to take care of.” My gaze flickers toward Hallie, who now looks at me with an intensity that cuts through the haze of panic swirling in my mind.

“Brea,” Hallie starts slowly, “is everything okay?”

“Yeah, peachy,” I lie, forcing a smile that doesn’t quite reach my eyes. “Just…something came up.”

Keira is on her feet now, crossing her arms. “You’re not just going to disappear like this. What’s going on?”

“Trust me,” I say, trying to maintain control over my quaking voice. “It’s nothing for you guys to worry about.”

“That’s not true!” Keira insists, stepping closer. “You don’t just leave without saying?—”

“I said I’m fine!” I snap back more forcefully than intended. Their faces twist into expressions of confusion and concern, but I can’t afford to linger any longer. It’s at least an hour and half to Bloomington. If I showed up even a second late, Tank will kill Fox. I rush past them, the door swinging shut behind me as I race towards the parking lot.

My heart pounds in time with my steps as I sprint to Fox’s rental truck, fumbling with the keys while trying to keep my breath steady. The engine roars to life beneath me, cutting through the sterile silence of the parking lot. I peel out of the parking lot, tires screeching against the pavement as I speed toward the riverbank. As I drive, every inch of me screams that I’m making a mistake. Every light turns green, every turn is clear, and yet it feels as if fate itself is urging me to reconsider.

But I can’t stop now. Fox needs me.

My cell phone rings and rings. Over and over again. Keira’s name flashing on the screen each time. I ignore it, pushing the phone out of my mind, only thinking about Fox, and that image burned into my brain. I grip the steering wheel harder, knuckles white against the dark leather, as the mix of adrenaline and dread surges through me. The streets blur by in a cacophony of colors but all I can see is his face hanging low like a marionette with its strings cut.

The old factory looms up ahead, a decaying relic from years past. I park a few yards away, scrutinizing every shadow cast by the crumbling walls. I snatch a deep breath, fighting to steady my heart as I step out of the truck. My headache flares from the anxiety coursing through me—one-part fear for Fox and another part frustration at myself for not being able to protect him from this.

Moving cautiously toward the factory entrance, my phone rings again. Fox’s name

I hesitate, then swipe to answer. “Hello?” My voice trembles, adrenaline making my heart race even faster.

“Brea,” comes Tank’s oily voice, slick and dripping with menace. “I see you’ve arrived. Good girl. Now, let’s make this interesting, shall we?”

“What do you want from me?” I demand, trying to mask the terror that claws at my throat like a beast wanting to escape.

“I told you already,” he taunts. “A trade.”

“Where is he?” I reply, my hand subconsciously reaching for the pepper spray I tucked into my pocket.

“Inside. But if you want to see him in one piece, you need to hurry. I wouldn’t keep him waiting.” The line disconnects abruptly, leaving me staring at the old factory entrance now looming before me like a portal to hell. My instincts scream at me to run, to call Keira for help, but I know I can’t. Each moment spent here could mean another bruise or worse for Fox.

I push forward slowly, each step echoing ominously through the desolate surroundings. The stench of rust and decay hits me like a brick wall as I enter the factory, dust swirling in the sparse light filtering through broken windows like ghostly fingers beckoning me deeper inside.

“Fox!” I call out, my voice nearly swallowed by the stillness of the place. Silence answers back, dark and foreboding.

“Fox!” I try again, louder this time, my heart racing in rhythm with the growing dread enveloping me.

A rustling sound breaks the silence, and I whip around, every nerve ending electrified. “Show yourself!” I demand, trying to sound tougher than I feel. The air weighs heavy with tension, and each breath feels like a challenge.

A faint noise filters from deeper within the factory—a low, muffled groan that makes my blood run cold. “Fox!” Panic surges through me. I push further into the darkness, driven by fear and the desperate need to find him.

“Brea…” His voice is broken and weak, a mere whisper in the air. My heart swells at the sound of his name escaping his lips, but it’s tinged with pain.

“Hold on! I’m coming!” I shout, rushing toward the source of the sound, dodging crates and debris as I navigate the forgotten remnants of this place. My shoes clatter against metal scraps strewn across the floor—each sound amplifying my anxiety.

Finally, I reach a partially ajar door marked with peeling paint and graffiti. “Fox!” I call out again as I push it open with a shaky hand, stepping into a dimly lit room. My breath catches in my throat. He’s tied to a chair like an animal ready for slaughter. His shirt is torn and streaked with dirt and blood.

“Brea,” he groans, lifting his heavy head with a flicker of recognition. I rush forward, ignoring the way my pulse races with every step.

“Hang on, I’ll get you out of here!” I say, but my heart sinks as I see just how tightly the ropes bind his wrists. They look like they could cut into his skin if I’m not careful.

“Don’t—” he starts but then winces, clearly pained. “Leave me.”

“What are you talking about?” I hiss as I reach for the rope binding his wrists. “I’m not leaving you here.”

Suddenly, the door slams open behind me, making me jump. It’s Tank—with that smug grin plastered across his face. My throat tightens. Fear clawing its way back up to choke me.

“Such a loyal little thing,” he croons with mockery in his voice as he strides into the room like he owns it. “Hello, Brea. Welcome to your new home.”

Tank lunges toward me, moving faster than thought allowed, and suddenly there’s pressure at my neck where something sharp jabs deep into tender flesh.

The world tilts unnaturally fast before it slips away entirely. Darkness floods over every vibrant color until all vivid shades extinguish themselves beneath smothering blackness and a silence so profound envelops me that nothing seems real anymore.