Chapter 30
Mia
For the first time with Aiden, I feel fear.
Real fear. I try to scream, but his hand is covering my mouth so the sound is pathetically small, and I know out here no one would hear me anyway.
I can’t bite through the material of the hood, and while I’m strong, Aiden is much stronger, especially when he’s gripping me tight, obvious rage fueling him.
The realization that he’s going to actually kill me for whatever lie he’s discovered runs through my head.
I feel him open a door with one arm, still holding me tight with the other.
He tosses me into a vehicle. My body hits the cold metal floor with a thud, and Aiden quickly zip-ties my hands together behind my back. I flail and kick, but it doesn’t stop him or even slow him down.
True panic washes over me as the door slams shut. I sit in total darkness and silence, chest heaving. I’m choked with fear and regret as we begin to move. I feel every bump in the road on the hard floor of the van. All the mistakes I’ve made leading up to this point flood my mind.
Remorse takes over as I ask myself how I thought I could possibly fuck with the president of the Disciples of Sin and get away with it. Was I just so lost in my grief that I was delusional? Nausea sets in as my mind runs through every detail he could have found out. Every last little lie.
We drive for a long time. No sound comes from the front seat, leading me to believe that Aiden might be alone.
The only sign it’s him driving is his scent and the occasional smell of cigarette smoke when I hear the window open.
I can’t talk. I can’t get loose. The zip ties are so tight that my hands are numb when the van finally comes to a stop.
As a last resort, I scoot back as far as I can into the van, but deep down I know there’s nowhere I can go to save myself.
The door opens and fresh air rushes in. The sound of cicadas fills the air, and I know instantly I’m near some sort of water. I can smell it and hear it. Marshall River? That is the only one I can think of close to Lakeside.
I’m breathing so frantically that I feel faint when Aiden’s powerful arms lift me out of the back of the van. He grunts as he hoists me over his shoulder.
I wriggle and squirm but get nowhere. Muffled sounds leave my mouth and tears run down my face. I’m covered in sweat but feel cold everywhere.
“Trying to fight won’t help you.”
My stomach drops as I realize he’s right. I need to conserve energy. Wood creaks under his boots, and a door opens. We’re inside an old musty house now, the kind that’s been neglected for a really long time.
He drops me down roughly on a hard wooden chair and zip-ties my ankles together. When he pulls the hood away, the dim lamplight in the room seems shockingly bright.
I slowly crack one eye open. Aiden stands in front of me, staring down at me like the Angel of Death in black jeans and a black T-shirt. He isn’t wearing his cut, and that terrifies me even more, because I know the only time an outlaw takes off his cut is when he’s about to rain down carnage.
I don’t have a chance to adjust my vision before he violently rips the tape from my mouth, and I start screaming.
Aiden doesn’t get angry or tell me to shut up.
He moves to the kitchen on the other side of the room and grabs a little black bag and a chair from beside a small kitchen table, placing them across from me.
The kitchen is one wall of cabinets and a peninsula that juts out, dividing it from the living room.
Aside from the table and chairs, the space is barren.
He sits and pulls a cigarette from the pack with his teeth, lighting it and taking a long inhale, the kind that tells me he has absolutely zero fear of anyone hearing me scream.
“You about done?” he asks when I quiet down.
Even though I hate myself for it, I start to cry, panic beginning to take over as he unzips the bag and pulls a needle from it.
I immediately think back to the box I found in his house, and everything turns static as the fear of what’s in that vial hits me.
“No… Please, no… Don’t do this…” I cry out. He has no way of knowing that the last time I saw a needle like that, it was in my sister’s arm.
“Don’t waste your fuckin’ tears,” he bites out as he pulls one of those clear vials from the bag.
My body starts to shake violently, and I thrash against my restraints.
“I don’t want drugs. Please don’t put that poison in my body!” I sob, out of control, yanking again, but all it’s doing is cutting off my circulation. I almost think I see a flicker of remorse, and then his expression is ice again.
“This won’t kill you, so stop fucking screaming. I can’t get the information I need from you if you’re dead.” He says it like it’s obvious he isn’t going to kill me, but I imagine other scenarios, where I’m drugged and raped…just like Nic.
“Time to help you out with that little lying problem you seem to have.” He fills the needle and taps it twice.
I scream at the top of my lungs, Nic’s last moment vivid in my mind as Aiden ignores my plea and sticks the needle in my thigh, emptying it without any remorse or hesitation.
It burns.
“What did you give me?” I sob, mascara stinging my eyes.
“Sodium pentothal,” he bites out. “A perfectly concentrated dose.”
Fucking truth serum.
“Now we’re going to wait for it to kick in, and then we’re going to have a fucking chat, little goddess. An honest one.”
My tears slow as I watch him sit calmly. I don’t feel out of it, or tired like I expected to. More high-strung, like I have a million thoughts running through my head all at once.
I clamp my mouth shut, hell-bent on not speaking to him.
“This is my cabin. The club’s cabin. It’s right smack in the middle of the forest. The closest neighbor is miles away. The closest town is even farther.” His tone is restrained. “No one will hear you.”
Aiden leans back in the chair, one arm up over the back of it, the other at his lips as he takes the final drag of his cigarette..
His long legs are stretched out and relaxed, and he never takes his eyes off me.
He takes in my dress, my wild hair, and the makeup on my face, which I stupidly wore for him.
To get closer to him. I had no idea what I was wishing for.
“Your tears are your admission of guilt,” he assesses.
“My tears are because you dragged me out here like your prisoner and fucking drugged me!”
Aiden is completely calm as he moves closer. Too calm. He’s in no hurry, and that tells me there’s no chance this will be over fast.
I silently pray to the universe to save me. I can’t die like this…
His hand grips my face faster than I can comprehend, tilting my chin up, while his other draws a blade from his side and holds it to my throat.
My mouth pops open under his grasp, and then he’s practically feeding me his smoke from his last inhale.
I choke on it as his grip tightens, wincing under his hold.
“You are my prisoner. You wove your way into my club and my home like a little fucking spider.” He lets go of my face yet holds me still with only the blade. “A poisonous little spider spinning her web.”
I feel the knife against my skin, and I’m too terrified to breathe. Aiden’s become the man I assumed he was as he uses the blade to guide my chin up farther.
“From this point forward, you don’t speak unless I ask you a question. Understand?”
I gulp back a sob and nod, remembering how easily he shattered that man’s hands in the trunk of the cab. I will my body to stop shaking as he assesses me, and the blade moves down to slide over my collarbone.
“I’ve killed so many men I’ve lost count,” he says, calm once again. “I don’t even remember them all, and I don’t give enough of a fuck to try.”
I try to suck in a breath as he continues. “Taking the life of a betrayer means absolutely nothing to me. The moment the life drains from their eyes, I forget all about them.”
I’m unable to stop the convulsions racking my body. My heart is beating so fast it feels out of control.
“And now, you’ve wronged me. You lied to me, after I explicitly told you not to. Mia Crawford doesn’t exist. No phone number, no address, no Social Security number.”
His grip comes back to my face then slides down to my throat and squeezes tight.
“At first, I thought you were sent here by the mob.”
Who?
“But now I know you’re a fucking spy. What you’ve told my rival club might dictate whether you live or die.”
Drool pools in my mouth as I’m too afraid to swallow with the blade pressed to my throat. “I’m not a spy,” I whisper. His eyes harden.
“You’re a woman who is close enough with a rival club to wrap her arms around one of its members, in the middle of fucking Main Street.” His voice is deep, devoid of emotion. Right now, Aiden Foxx is a stone-cold killer.
My thoughts are clear as I remember the last time I was on Main Street. After Nic was delivered to Cress Funeral Home, Mason and I met there to discuss cremation arrangements. Robby and Flipp came with us for support, and Mason and I hugged outside before parting ways.
“How do you know—?”
“Local Police, ATF, the fucking DEA, any organization that wants to get their dick wet in our lives watches the Hounds too. They’re almost always surveying them, just like they do us. Those photos are added to a database. Easily found when you know how to look.”
A sob I’ve been holding back breaks free from my chest, pushing my skin against the smooth blade.
“So, Mia, you have one chance to tell me who you really are.” He shrugs. “If I don’t like the answer, I’ll slice you cunt to tongue and let you bleed out right here, and that’ll be the fucking end of you.” He’s seething, and maybe I imagine it, but I swear I see a flicker of regret.
I look up at him, remorse and tears in my eyes. Even knowing I might die, I can’t give in to him. “You’re going to kill me anyway. Does it matter what I tell you now?” I say through clenched teeth.
“I’ll only ask you once. Are you a fucking cop?” His voice booms.
“No…” I breathe out shakily. “Not yet.”
Aiden’s eyes move from rage to reason. I watch them heat and cool, and it fascinates me even now, on the brink of death.
Miraculously, he drops the blade from my throat, and his hands come down to rest on the arms of my chair, caging me in.
This is the first look I get at the blade.
It’s as thin as a razor and at least eight inches long. The end is curved and deadly looking.
“Explain.”
“I am in school—that wasn’t a lie—but not for editing.” I take a breath as best I can. “My majors are forensics and criminology.”
“So, you’re gonna be a fucking cop?” he spits out.
“No,” I cry. “An investigator. I have no interest in reporting your club or your crimes.” My brother’s club is just like yours.
“I want to work in a special victims division, to help people who have been sexually assaulted.” The drug is working now, because there’s no holding back as I look up at him.
My thin black straps have drifted down my shoulders and my chest heaves, nearly exposing my breasts, the low droop of the neckline showing him ample cleavage.
He grits his teeth, looking down to my lips, and I seize my chance. He doesn’t want to kill me. I have to believe that, and if I can get out of these zip ties, I might have a fighting chance to escape. I’ll run twenty miles if I have to. I won’t die at this monster’s hands.
“Untie me,” I beg. “Please, my hands are numb. Treat me like a human being, and I’ll tell you everything you need to know.”
“You’ll tell me anyway.” He studies me, thinking. Always thinking.
I look around. “Where the fuck am I going to go that you won’t catch me? Please, Aiden.” I say his name softly, looking up at him in one final plea. “It hurts so much.”
He brings his knife up, and I brace myself, closing my eyes. But I’m surprised when he severs the tie on my ankles first and blood rushes back to my feet. I flex my toes and sigh, releasing another sob. I ache to kick him in the face with my throbbing feet, but I don’t dare.
He moves behind me. The heat of his body surrounding me blurs that line of want and rage once again as he cuts the tie from my hands and they immediately tingle and burn with life.
Aiden moves to his knees before me, focused on the angry red marks on my wrists as I bring them to my lap. His brows furrow deeply, almost as though it bothers him, even though he was the one to inflict the damage.
Unable to stop the words as they bubble up, I take a deep breath. I have no choice but to tell him everything he wants to know and pray again that somehow, some way, he’ll let me live through this night.