Chapter 49
Hannah
There are others.
After losing the food I worked so hard to eat, I sit on the bathroom floor for a long time. I only move out of fear when I realize I’m on the verge of giving up, and that isn’t going to happen. I’ll give up when there’s no breath left in my lungs.
Unsure if I can get pants back on, I have to try. My bare feet carry me to the dresser, and I lift one to snag the handle of the drawer. My foot is halfway there when a key slides into the lock.
This must be the referral Diesel mentioned. Why anyone would request me is beyond anything I can make sense of. All I’ve offered the customers is compliance and an easy lay. Based on what I’ve heard these men like, I should be the last person they’re requesting.
The door opens, and a young man with buzzed blonde hair and a strong jaw enters.
As gross as the thought is, I can’t help but notice he’s good-looking.
He also doesn’t have that same hungry look in his eyes like the men before him.
I freeze where I am, knowing he can see the most intimate parts of my body, and there is absolutely nothing I can do about it.
He stops moving toward me once the door is closed, and we’re both just staring at one another. His face looks pained, and there’s something almost familiar about it. My breathing quickens when I think of the last time I recognized someone inside these four walls, and how he left me here to rot.
If I know this man somehow, all I can hope is that he uses me and leaves. I can’t go through feeling hope only to have it carved from my chest again. That pain is worse than anything physical these men can do to me, because it solidifies the one thing I’ve always known. I’m on my own.
He takes a step forward. Without thinking, I start to take a step back, but catch myself before my foot even leaves the ground. He won’t know how scared I am. He won’t know that I just lost my lunch after not sleeping for a second because being bound meant I could never get comfortable.
He won’t know that my fingertips are numb or that the joints in both my shoulders are screaming so loud it’s enough to make me want to throw up again. He won’t see any of it.
“Hannah?” he whispers.
No. No, no, no. He knows my name. How?
My body is frozen. I’m not sure if it’s shock or fear, but I can’t move. It doesn’t really matter anyway. Neither the bathroom nor the bed can save me.
“Hannah, it’s Ace. Please tell me it’s you.”
Ace. Oh my God, is he into this, too? Did Booker tell him where to find me?
There is no way I can ever go back to the clubhouse if he rapes me. I won’t be able to look at him ever again. I won’t be able to look at Sarge.
A single tear tracks down my face as the thought sinks in. Sarge might not even want me after this, not now that my body is so used and broken. Who knows what diseases these men are carrying?
“Honey, please.”
The name makes my stomach turn when I think of what he might do to me. “I need to know if it’s you so I can signal the guys. We have twenty men outside, ready to come in and get you out.”
The air feels like it’s been sucked straight from my lungs.
I’ve been fooled into being hopeful once before.
I force in a breath, trying to get my thoughts in order.
Booker never promised me anything. He never made me think anyone was here to save me.
He only acted out some bad softcore porno with himself and left me behind.
Could Ace be telling the truth? As much as I want to believe him, the thought of falling for it only to find out it’s a lie is too much to take. Lack of sleep really is a bitch, and my emotions are shot to hell.
“If it’s you, please, just nod so I can get us both the fuck out of here.”
Figuring a nod can’t make my situation any worse, I move my chin in two slow movements, up and down.
“Oh, thank fuck.” He lets out a bated breath. “Okay, listen to me. I’m going to go to your window and place something in it so they can find your room.”
He moves across the bed, making sure to keep his distance from me, and I watch his every move. Making sure never to give him my back.
“I’m so fucking glad they did a shit job patting me down,” he says, his voice low. “Because I have a feeling they’d have some questions about what I planned to do with this.”
With that, he reaches into his waistband, going almost elbow-deep before retrieving a... glow stick?
He must notice the look on my face because he adds, “It’s infrared. It can be seen both day and night, as long as you have the right equipment to see it with.”
It’s almost funny how he thinks I have any idea what the fuck that is.
“Did you... Did you just pull that out of your ass?” I ask. The guy was really digging around in there.
Raising his eyebrows, Ace stifles a laugh.
“Shit, no. That’s a one-way street for me, honey.
Had it hidden between my thighs, tucked under the balls, you know?
” He shrugs like that isn’t the strangest thing I’ve heard today.
“Had to cut the loop off the top so it wouldn’t stab me in the sac. But, hey, it worked out.”
Scanning the room, he grabs a pillow from the bed and props it up in the window pane.
He then cracks and shakes a stick that looks no different than a regular glow stick, except this one doesn’t even light up.
Awesome, it’s broken. Because why would it work when it’s only my life depending on its functionality?
He sets it on top of the pillow like it’s some impressive trophy. The stick is solid purple all the way through, not the clear plastic I’m used to.
How are glow sticks somehow going to save me? This can’t be real. None of this feels real.
“Um. Is that thing even working?” I ask. Because from where I’m standing, it looks like it’s doing absolutely nothing.
Ace glances back at it and shrugs. “Pretty sure. Sarge told me to crack it, shake it, and put it in the window. I’ve never dealt with something like this before, but I trust him.” Looking back at me, he adds, “You should, too.”
Easier said than done, buddy.
“Okay,” he says, his voice dropping lower. “We don’t have a lot of time.”
He moves toward me now, and I instinctively brace for a blow.
“Hey,” he says, slowing his movements like I’m a wild animal he’s trying not to spook. “I’m not going to hurt you, okay? You have no reason to believe me, but please, let me help you.”
Ace creeps around me toward the dresser. Spinning to watch him, I see he’s trying the knobs, pulling at the drawers until he finally finds a pair of pants. Keeping his head turned away from me, he kneels on the floor and holds the waistband open, waiting.
“Please,” is all he whispers.
I slide one leg through, certain that he’s only waiting for me to get both feet in so he can bind my ankles together. But he surprises me. He carefully works the fabric up my legs and over my hips, settling it around my waist with a gentleness no one has given me since Gavin.
The softness makes my nose sting as tears build behind my eyes. He stands in front of me with a look of sadness that matches mine.
“Your hands. I’m assuming they’re behind you becuase they’re tied?”
Not trusting my voice, I manage a single nod.
“Fuck,” he hisses out.
He lifts one leg, placing a foot on the bed, working at the laces. What an odd time to take your shoes off...
“I’m going to get your hands free. It might hurt a bit, but I imagine it’ll feel better to have them free than not. Plus, it’ll give you a chance to fight back if the time comes.”
He removes the laces from a few of the eyelets on his boots before turning to look at my wrists.
He must see the look on my face because he holds the shoe up and says, “I can use the laces to break the ties. They’re thick, though; it’ll take some considerable force.”
Pausing, he looks at my wrists. “I think it’ll be best if you lean forward, is that okay? I don’t want you to get pulled over backward when I start tugging on these.”
I stare at him, hating the vulnerable position he’s asking me to take.
But what do I really have to lose at this point?
If he wanted to hurt me, he’s had plenty of chances already.
Plus, it would be odd to dress me only to then assault me.
I shift my weight and lean forward, exposing the skin I can only imagine is raw and red.
“Stay as still as you can. I’ll try to make this quick.”
I feel a sawing motion between my interlocked hands, and it sends searing-hot pain through my already burning wrists. A small whimper passes through my lips. I don’t think I can take much more of this, and he’s only started.
My empty stomach churns, and sweat gathers on the bridge of my nose while he works.
Keeping my breathing shallow, I suck back the sobs catching in my throat.
He keeps straining and pulling back and forth.
It’s so hard to stay still, but I do my best. The repetitive motions start to tear at the raw skin on my wrists, and I can’t help it. I cry out.
He whispers something, but I can’t hear a word of it through the haze of the pain. Finally, after what feels like a lifetime, the pulling stops, and my arms fall forward with gravity.
As much as I want to celebrate, my shoulders ache terribly with the sudden change in position.
Standing up straight, I rotate my shoulders back to mimic the position they’ve been in for so long.
The pain subsides a bit, so I stay that way for now, allowing my joints to wake up from their hibernation.
“We will get you out, okay? This is your last day in this room.” He says with finality.
Fighting back the tears, I don’t respond. Honestly, I can’t.
Doing a one-eighty, he asks, “Do you have socks? Shoes?”
“Um, yeah. I came in here with them, so they have to be somewhere.” I haven’t worn them since my first miserable night here, but I remember taking them off.
Ace nods and starts looking around. It doesn’t take long before he finds them under the bed. I don’t even remember putting them there.
“Sit. I’ll help you with these. You’re gonna need them.”
“It’s fine. My hands are free now. I can get my own shoes on,” I say, my voice sounding petulant even to me.
He sighs. “Prez warned me you were stubborn. Listen, I have no doubt you can do it on your own. But I’ve seen your wrists, and I don’t know a better way to say it, but I’m kinda in better shape for the job than you are right now. So, sit.”
Huffing out a breath, I decide he might have a point, and I sit on the edge of the bed. After he slides my socks and shoes on, he sits back on his heels to look up at me.
“I need you to wait in the bathroom until we come for you, okay?”
“I... is Sarge here?”
Ace’s shoulders drop as he sighs with a gentle smile. “Nothing could keep that man from being here today. Yes, he’s right outside.”
The promise of being rescued fills me with so much happiness it actually hurts, but I still can’t bring myself to believe him. Not yet. I need to see Sarge with my own eyes before I let myself relax.
When he stands back up, he says the one thing I didn’t want to hear. “I have to go back downstairs.”
There it is. The catch. He has to leave me here.
“But I will be back, okay? And when I come back, there will be a lot of angry bikers with me. We’re going to end anyone who has even played a part in hurting you.”
I think about the woman’s voice I heard through the wall and the sounds from my first day here. “I think there are others,” I say. “If there are, we can’t leave them. No one should have to live like this.” My body shudders as I repeat the words, more certain this time. “We can’t leave them behind.”
“Our thoughts exactly. We brought enough muscle and vehicles to get you all out. Even have medical services ready if needed.” He looks at my wrists. “But, I have to get back downstairs for any of this to play out properly.”
The thought of being left again causes my chest to squeeze, my breathing coming in stunted, quick breaths.
“Hey, we are coming back. Sarge will kill us all with his bare hands if we don’t.”
I try to force a smile. “Okay.”
“Okay.” He agrees. “Now, go sit in the bathroom and stay there no matter what you hear outside your room. We will find you. Do not come out.”
I nod, not wanting him to leave me, but accepting that I don’t have much say in this.
He nods back at me in a silent understanding before strolling to the door. He takes one last look my way, giving me a soft smile with a nod before he knocks twice and walks out.
Standing alone in the middle of the room, I can feel the walls closing in on me.
Squeezing my eyes shut, I count my breaths.
Three seconds in. Three seconds hold. Three seconds out.
Spinning around, I look at the pillow and glow stick combo sitting in the window.
I really hope that thing is doing whatever magic it’s supposed to do.
I imagine the pillow is there to hoist the light higher than if he’d left it on the sill.
On any other day, the sight would be comical, but right now it looks like a lifeline. It’s a ridiculous one, but it’s mine, and it’s all I have to believe in. My feet carry me toward the toilet on autopilot. I sit down and stare at that glow stick, willing it to save me.