Chapter 17
Moon
"Princess..." Stray's grating voice singsongs as he enters the room I'm being held in. The hair on the back of my neck stands as a chill runs down my spine.
"Dad says that I can keep you if you learn to behave." He says with a pep in his step, nearing the side of the gurney I’m handcuffed to. I jerk away feeling the restraints biting into my skin for what feels like the millionth time. I can't tell how long I've been here.
With nothing but me, concrete walls, and an insane man playing mind games with you it's easy to lose track of time. It feels like I've been here for months. When I was young they chose physical warfare, so far they've been sticking to mental this time.
"Perk up Beautiful, that means he'll let you live. You'll be my little pet." Stray says curling a tendril of my hair around his finger. I stare at him with dead eyes, not leaning away from him. Not showing fear.
I feel nothing but unbridled rage as I look into the sick fucks face.
"You'd like that, wouldn't you?" He says with a sadistic smile. I remain silent.
"This isn't what I sent you in there for, Stray. Focus." What I've learned to be his father's voice rings out through a speaker system of some kind. The sound bouncing off of the concrete walls.
"I don't want to do this Moon... I want you pristine for when I make you mine, but Father says I have to make you talk." My spine stiffens and I prepare myself to endure whatever I have to in order to protect the club. It's ingrained in me.
He pulls a box cutter from his pocket, revealing the blade to me. The light reflects off the metal of the blade and I pull at my restraints in response, warm blood spilling from my wrists.
I'm not the one that gets tortured I'm the one that does the torturing.
In my mind, I'm panicking, but my face remains calm.
"Tell me where they took our shipment of girls. There's only one out of fifty in that clubhouse." I smile, saying nothing. He's talking about Red. I don't know the answer to his question, he should know that.
I'm a woman they don't tell us club business. I'm assuming Stray thinks I know because my father is the President and My Man is the VP. He's still too new to know that many details. He's just given orders.
Even if I knew the answer to his question, I wouldn't tell him. Not only to protect the club but also to protect those women. No one deserves what those women have been through.
He brings the box cutter to my chest, slicing through the hospital gown covering me and into the skin above my collarbone. I wince, fighting not to scream.
Just shut it all off Moon. I tell myself, searching the depths of my mind for a place to hide from all this.
I nuzzle Into his hard chest, rough ring-clad fingers caressing the bare skin of my back in circular motions.
"I love waking up with you in my arms." Dagger whispers into my hair, kissing the top of my head. I kiss his chest tracing one of his many tattoos with my fingertips. He groans when I pull my leg up to rest over his v-line.
"You don't even have to try Baby, you just existing is enough to drive me fucking crazy." He rasps, tipping my chin up and crashing his lips against mine. His grip moves from my chin to my neck gently squeezing in the way he knows I crave. I quickly shift so I'm straddling him, reaching behind me to line him up with my entrance.
Suddenly my head flings to the side, the impact from Stray's hand bringing me back to reality. I taste blood as I run my tongue over my lip. I smile, my own blood coating my teeth.
Dagger will come for me. The club will come for me. I just have to survive.
"Tell me where the rest of our shipment is." Stray bellows angrily, his face inches from mine, the blade pressed against my throat. The anger coursing through my veins overrides my survival instincts.
I lean forward against the box cutter, feeling it bite into my throat as I latch my teeth into the first thing I can reach. His nose. He yanks back out of instinct leaving me with a chunk of skin and cartilage in my mouth. I spit it into his face, the mix of our blood and my saliva dripping down his cheek as the chunk of his nose plops onto the concrete floor.
"You fucking bitch!" He screams, blood running through his fingers as he grips his nose. Or technically where his nose used to be. He looks between me and the door deciding whether to follow his father's orders or go have his nose sewn back on.
"I'm trying to keep you alive!" He screams like he genuinely believes what he's doing is helping me and I'm just being stubborn.
I know I'm the bargaining chip. I know I'm just being used to get to my Dad and the club. They won't kill me because they'll lose their leverage. So I know either way I'll live. It's a matter of giving them what they want and being tortured, or not giving them what they want and being tortured.
Either way, the outcome remains the same. I just have to stay strong until the club realizes I'm gone and comes looking.
"Get out here son, we've got company." I hear over the intercom and let out a sigh of relief as he runs out of the room.
They will stop at nothing to save me, I know that. My only worry is who we will lose in the process.
Who's blood will be on my hands?