Chapter 25
Skye
W hen I awake, feeling groggy and confused, it takes me a minute to recall what happened before it all comes flooding back with startling clarity.
Shit. This can’t really be happening, can it?
I’ve been kidnapped!
Startled, I sit bolt upright, the sudden movement makes me feel woozy after whatever drug they gave me to knock me out, chloroform I guess if the movies are accurate. Immediately, I’m worried about the effect that the chloroform may have on an unborn child. If I am pregnant, will this harm my baby? I don’t even know if I am pregnant yet, but already the thought of something happening to my child fills me with dread. I guess that answers that question. If I am pregnant, and something inside me, some innate womanly intuition tells me I am, I know I want to keep it. Whether or not the fathers want anything to do with us. But I can’t let myself think about that right now. Right now I have to figure out where I am, who brought me here, and why.
Slower this time, I sit up, tentatively checking my body for injuries. I’m surprised to find that apart from a banging headache I’m unharmed. Even more strangely, I’m unbound, and I’m being held in what appears to be a simple but clean bedroom. Not exactly your textbook kidnapping cell, though I should be grateful I’m not chained to the floor in some basement, I suppose.
As soon as I feel able, I get up and survey my surroundings. My first port of call is to check the door which unsurprisingly, is locked. The single bed is built into the floor, so there’s no way of moving that to barricade my attackers out. There are no windows to break out of either and no other furniture I can use apart from a small mini fridge. There are water bottles inside it, and I greedily open one, chugging half of it in one go. For a second, I wonder if it might be drugged, but my mouth is so dry that I’m past caring. The only other thing in the room is a door that leads into a simple ensuite bathroom. There is a small window in here, but too small for me to break out of. I stand on the toilet lid, straining to see if I can look outside the small gap to work out where I am but all I can see are streetlights and the vague shape of a nondescript building.
Frustrated, I return to the room, pacing the floor as I wonder if the girls have realized I’m gone yet. I can’t be sure, but I thought I heard Lucy calling out for me. How long until the police put out a search? Will they even know where to look for me? I don’t even know who took me. Judging by the appearances of the men who took me, I’m guessing they could be bikers. I didn’t get a good look at their tattoos, but I’m pretty sure they didn’t have Angels of Havoc ones, besides, the guys made it perfectly clear they wanted nothing more to do with me, so why would they want to kidnap me?
Which means that it’s more likely the Demon Riders MC. But what would they want with me either? I know Bill’s been working with them, but surely there are better ways to make me come home than this.
Unless, and the thought makes my blood run cold, this is some unrelated kidnapping. You hear all the time about sex traffickers drugging and taking girls from nightclubs and forcing them into becoming sex workers. Or with Bill’s job in politics, he could be the target of some crazy person. Perhaps I’ve become a pawn in some grand political statement, or the object of some crazed fan’s affection.
No. You’re getting ahead of yourself Skye and being ridiculous. You need to stay calm.
But still, the irrational thoughts in my head won’t go away.
I sit there for what feels like hours, agonizing over what to do, and as time goes on, I become more and more fearful of what is about to happen to me.
The sound of the door unlocking sends me on high alert, and I scramble to the furthest corner of the bed, huddling in over my knees as though making myself as small as possible means they won’t see me.
The man with the mustache, one of the two who kidnapped me, comes striding in. “Oh good, you’re up. Can’t say I’ve used chloroform before, usually use simpler methods to knock someone out,” he says with a pointed grin before continuing, “Was worried I mighta given you too much.”
“Who are you and why am I here?” I ask, trying and failing to sound likemy usual brave self.
Losing Angel, Buzz, Drifter, and Gunner has made me lose all confidence. I feel like a shell of the feisty woman I was, and I need her now more than ever.
The man chuckles as if I’ve said something amusing, “Who I am doesn’t matter, darlin’. What does matter is that you’re gonna do as you’re told. You’re here because you have something that someone important wants, and you’re gonna give it to them.”
“Or what?” I ask, mustering my courage. Though I can’t for the life of me think what I could possibly have that someone could want.
He smiles at me, a slow wolf-like grin and a twinkle in his eye as if he were hoping I’d ask that. “Or else we hurt you.”
My breath gets stuck in my throat, and I feel like I could choke from fear, he’s not laid a finger on me and yet his tone is so filled with violence thatI know that he wouldn’t hesitate to hurt me. That he’d probably enjoy doing it.
“You must have the wrong person, I don’t have anything. If you think my stepfather is going to pay a ransom for my return then you’re sorely mistaken. We’re estranged,” I explain, wondering why if they were hoping for money from Bill, they didn’t kidnap Ethan. No way will Bill pay a penny for me, the disappointing child that isn’t even his.
“I assure you, Skye, there is no mistake. And you’re right, we don’t want something you currently have, we want something you will have soon,” he explains, stroking his mustache and looking at me like a cat toying with a mouse.
My eyes widen and my hand instinctively goes to my stomach, thinking that they want my baby. But how could they possibly know I might be pregnant, I’m not even sure yet for crying out loud. What do they want with my baby? Again my mind goes to all sorts of dark and terrifying places.
The man raises his eyebrow, “You’re pregnant. Interesting… that could certainly prove useful later. But no, right now, we just need you to sign something,” he says before tossing over a brown envelope to me.
Inside, there are legal documents. Confused, I begin to read them. I don’t really understand half of what I’m reading but they seem to relate to the ownership of some land and a house on it. The address sounds vaguely familiar but, in my confused and scared state, I can’t quite recall why.
“I don’t understand… I don’t own any land,” I say, flicking through the pages again.
“Well then, it shouldn’t be a worry to sign, should it?” the man replies casually. “Then we’ll let you go.”
“As simple as that?” I ask warily.
“As simple as, sweetheart,” he says with a smile, baring his teeth.
He’s been perfectly civil, but I know this is all an act, that there’s more to all of this. I don’t believe that he’ll just let me go that easily.
I look through the documents again, “The buyer’s information is left blank. Who gets the land if I sign?”
“Well, that doesn’t matter now does it, since it won’t be yours anymore,” the man replies tersely, losing patience.
At that moment, I realize why I recognize the address. “Wait. This is Brewer’s land. Are you telling me that he left it to me in his will?”
“Smart girl,” the man says, before taking out a cigarette, lighting it, and taking a deep drag before speaking again. “So, seeing as you’re so smart, you’ll realize the smart thing to do is to sign and walk away. You weren’t expecting to get this land, so it means nothing to you, not worth getting hurt over now, is it?” he says, trying to seem reasonable.
“Someone already got hurt over it. Brewer died,” I spit at him, filled with disgust as I realize who’s behind this. “You can tell Bill he can do his own dirty work and speak to me himself instead of hiding behind his hired thugs,” I snarl, throwing the paper on the floor.
Quick as a flash the man crosses the room and grabs me by the hair, yanking my head back painfully, exposing my throat which he grips with vise-like fingers.
“You could have chosen the easy route. But I have to say, I prefer the hard one,” he whispers in my ear, the stench of cigarettes on his breath.
I claw at his hand, but it holds firm, with the other, he squeezes my breast hard, and I realize that there are worse ways he can hurt me than a beating. Tears prick in the corner of my eyes as I struggle for breath. He watches me for a few agonizing seconds, the enjoyment on his face clear, before releasing me.
“I’ll leave you to consider our little chat, next time I won’t be so nice. You don’t have any other choices here, Skye. One way or another you’re gonna sign,” he states before leaving me gasping and crying on the bed.
Bill has to be behind this. Does he really care so little about me? Though he knows I’d never sign Brewer’s land over to him, surely, he can’t be so heartless as to do this to me? I might hate him for being a self-absorbed arrogant prick, but I didn’t think he was a monster. Do these men intend to kill me? Does Bill even care?
No. Surely Bill can’t be behind this. But then the voice of doubt kicks in again.
With me out of the picture, he will no doubt have any smears to his golden career and perfect family. A missing daughter, troubled runaway, or even tragically killed stepdaughter would be more marketable and sympathetic to his voters than a pregnant stepdaughter in a polyamorous relationship with four older men in a biker club.
Am I going to die here?