Chapter 35
Harden My Heart
I’m rushed from the car back into the elevator and back into our apartment with no chance of escape because the two of them are right there by my side the entire time, and I know like this, I can’t outrun them.
Jagger was right behind us on his bike and followed us the entire way home.
I feel their protection, or is it really protection?
Maybe all this time I have been a hostage, not protected by them, but kidnapped and guarded twenty-four seven so I can’t escape.
The more I think it, the more my ridiculous scenario makes sense.
I’m a hostage. Jagger’s words from the cabin in the woods come back to me: “Every relationship is a business deal of some sort. An arrangement where one person or the other, sometimes both, trade something they want for what the other is willing to give.”
But this isn’t a trade, at least not a fair one.
He’s getting something out of it, all right.
My guess is money, probably auctioning me off to the highest bidder.
And what, he started building a relationship with me to earn my trust?
Is that what this thing is with all of them?
That thought is like thousands of tiny knives stabbing at my heart.
I’m so stupid for falling for them, for believing my life could be better.
If my own papa wants to sell me off, why would three bikers give two shits about me?
The only answer is they wouldn’t. My brother is the only one I can trust.
I can’t breathe any better when I get inside the apartment and they close the door.
One of them says something to me, but I don’t hear it.
I need to get away from them. I practically run through the apartment, heading right for my room.
Once inside, I pop my headphones on and find a playlist. Sinking down to the floor of my room, I cradle my knees up to my chest.
Why was my brother at The Precinct? The only explanation was it was some sort of business deal gone wrong.
The Stryker brothers were supposed to hand me over to him, but they refused.
I’m sure it’s not my imagination running wild.
I saw them fighting, with Dante being kicked out of the bar.
And his words to me over the phone: “You can’t trust them, they are using you.
I was an idiot for ever thinking they could be trusted with your life.
” Something more sinister is at play here.
Something Dante was trying to warn me about, but he couldn’t because he was at The Precinct at the time.
I turn the music up, trying to block out all the uncertain thoughts.
I feel sick in the stomach but numb all over at the same time.
Who the hell do I trust? The boys tell me it’s them, they have since the start, but Dante has always looked out for me, been my strength when I was falling apart, and I’m sure he was the one who helped rid me of Valentine.
He’s my brother, my blood, my family, and I know I have to listen to him.
I need to escape the Stryker brothers’ clutches before it’s too late.
With shaky legs, I move into the closet and find my duffle bag, shoving in as many clothes as I can, followed by my passport and the wad of cash I have been saving from the club.
Then, I rush into the bathroom and grab a bag of toiletries and slip them into the bag as well.
Zipping it up, I leave it in the closet, knowing I have to bide my time.
There is no escaping them in the middle of the day.
I have to wait until their guard is down.
Tonight, when they are all asleep, I will make my escape.
Get on the first bus I find and get as far away from Ravens Hollow as I can.
Then maybe I can call Dante to come and rescue me.
But right now, I can’t think that far ahead.
When I walk back into my room, Cruz is waiting for me. I flinch, my body so on edge I don’t know how to react around him anymore. I shove my headphones off my ears and try to stop the trembling of my hands.
Like he knows it, he keeps his distance and drops his gaze away from me. There is something about the slight movement that’s unnerving when his gaze is normally permanently on me. “The massage lady from the day spa is here for your appointment. I didn’t want you to miss out.”
“O-oh, okay,” I stutter, not sure what else to say. That was the last thing I expected.
“Can she set up in here?” he asks, sounding unsure.
I nod. A massage right now is the last thing I need, but I can’t do anything until nightfall, so I guess it can’t hurt either.
“I’ll show her in,” he says, leaving me alone again.
My stomach sinks, and I’m not sure why. I shouldn’t feel guilty knowing I’m about to take off.
Or that Cruz isn’t looking at me the way he used to.
I have to protect myself from these assholes before they do whatever it is they are planning on doing to me.
There is no room for letting feelings get in the way.
It was all an act, Daisy. This is still all an act to keep me here thinking it’s my choice.
Don’t be that dumb girl who gets herself killed because she was blinded by what can only be lust. It’s not anything more, even if my heart thumps a little harder whenever one of them is near.
A nice lady, probably in her mid-thirties, appears in my room holding a folded-up massage table and a bag.
She’s in a neat uniform and has her hair up in a bun, looking very professional.
“Hi, I’m Macy.” She smiles sweetly. “The boys said you have been working your butt off this week getting ready for a dance audition.”
The audition. My stomach drops. If I run, then my dream is gone. If I don’t, my life might be. I fake a smile. “Yeah, my body is paying the price.” I try to keep my voice light, pleasant even, but it’s almost impossible with the anxiety now thumping through me.
“I’ll have you fixed up in no time.” She flicks the table out and straightens it, pulling a towel from her bag.
She smooths it out then pops one of the pillows from my bed on there.
“I’ll set this up, then you can get changed out of your clothes.
I’ll leave some towels. Just lie face down for me and I will come back in once you’re ready. ”
“Thanks.” I try to smile again, but even I know it looks forced.
When she closes the door, I get my dress and bra off and hop on the table with the towel covering most of me and my face down, trying to get my erratic breathing under control.
A light tap comes on the door. “Are you ready?” she asks.
“Yes,” I mutter through the face hole.
She walks back in the room, and some relaxing music plays. “Cruz was most disappointed you had to miss your appointment this morning. It was so sweet of him to reschedule for you.” Her hands come to my back, all warm and lathered with massage oil that smells of lavender.
“Ha, yeah.” Sweet! Not how I can see him after what I witnessed this morning.
She applies heavy pressure to my back, firmly kneading the muscles like they are dough. “He must really like you, going to such a fuss. I don’t normally make house calls.”
“Maybe,” I mutter, not sure what else to say. Yesterday I would have agreed with her, but yesterday I was na?ve. I couldn’t see the truth right in front of my eyes.
“You’re very tense,” she comments, digging her fingers in.
“It’s been a rough week.”
“With all the dancing?” she asks, and I feel like she’s trying to get more out of me than just polite conversation.
“Yes,” I reply, keeping my answer short, even though part of me is almost desperate to have someone else to talk to about this situation. A massage therapist who works for them is not a smart idea. And from now on, I need to be smart about every decision I make.
“Close your eyes and try to relax, I will have you fixed up in no time.” Her hands press in between my shoulder blades.
The pressure she’s applying is perfection.
It’s hard not to relax with her magic hands ironing out all my tension and with the soft music playing through the air.
Lavender overwhelms me in the best way, and she stops talking, and before I know it, I’m sleepy.
An hour later, Macy softly rocks me awake. “Your massage is over, sweetie.” Her soft voice brings me out of my haze.
I’m on my back now and went in and out the whole time she was massaging me. “Thank you.” I smile back at her, slightly embarrassed. I fell asleep for most of it.
She squeezes my hand. “Why don’t you go have a shower while I clean up in here,” she suggests, motioning to the bathroom.
I nod, still trying to get my body to move. When I can, I sit up, wrapping the towel around myself as I run a hand through the bird’s nest of my hair. Yeah, I need a shower. Who knows when I will get the next one?
“It was nice to meet you, Daisy.” She smiles sweetly as she packs away her things.
“Thanks, you too.” I stand and walk into the bathroom almost like I’m floating.
My body feels better than it has in so damn long.
It was a sweet thing for Cruz to organize for me.
And I know he does have this kind side, but he’s also a total psycho.
Who apparently kills for a living. I can’t help but wonder how many lives he’s taken. The thought is nauseating.
I shower quickly and wrap a towel around myself, trying to psych myself up to survive my last night with them. I have no idea how I’ll act normal around them, but I have to because I don’t want to arouse suspicion. I have to just slip away in the middle of the night.
When I open the bathroom door, Macy is gone and my room is clear. I move through to the walk-in closet, looking for something to change into, and freeze, my heart kicking up a beat. What the actual…
There, where I left my duffel bag earlier, is now a big empty space.
A white-hot sweat instantly beads on my forehead.
In a panic, I rummage through the rest of the closet, but it’s gone.
I quickly chuck on the first dress I find and a cardigan, then burst back into my room, looking for my phone to call my brother.
It can’t wait. If that bag is gone, I’m in deep shit, because they have worked out my plan.
My phone was on my dressing table when the massage started, but the dressing table is now empty. Fuck!
I pace my room, sickness overwhelming me. Either sweet Macy has robbed me, or the fuckers have been in here and stolen all my stuff so I have no way of leaving. My pulse thunders through me. I’m fucked. I’m so fucking fucked. I have no money, no passport, no phone.
With adrenaline coursing through me like never before, I storm from the room, doing the only thing I can. “Where is all my stuff?” I cry, ready to fight for my freedom.
Jagger looks up at me from his place on the sofa, amusement dancing in his eyes as he tilts his head. “What stuff, flower? You will need to be more specific.” The asshole smirks back at me, a sick sense of pleasure in his voice.
Fuck him. Fuck all of them. The other two are watching me as well, all of them settled in the living room. Cruz has his feet up watching a fight on the flatscreen, while Jagger and Asher are in the recliners, both with a cold bottle of beer in their hands.
“My phone is gone!” I practically scream back.
Asher casually throws back his drink. “Is it?” He looks puzzled, but this time I know for sure it’s an act. The smug asshole is playing with me.
I cross my arms over my chest protectively. “Yes. And I know you assholes know something about it!”
“For your safety, flower,” Jagger snips like it’s no big deal and I’m the one overreacting.
White-hot fury pumps through me, and I see red, fixing my furious glare on him. “Give. It. Back.”
Jagger places his beer on the coffee table and stands, closing the gap between us in one large stride. “You’re in no position to demand anything from me.” His eyes narrow, and he looks me over like seeing me for the first time.
“I can’t believe you were just going to take off,” comes Cruz’s voice from behind him. He is standing now, backing up Jagger, and so is Asher. The three of them together like this look like a force to be reckoned with. But tonight, I’m not letting them intimidate me.
I flick my angry glare toward Cruz. “Who says I was?”
“The packed bag in your closet,” Asher chimes in, sounding just as disappointed as his brother. Ahh, more games, more acting—they are just messing with my head, trying to act sad about it.
My chest aches at their disappointment, but I don’t owe them anything. “I’m not staying here as your hostage,” I spit back, so ready for a fight.
Jagger motions to the front door. “You’re free to go anytime.” He grins all crazy-like. But even the way he says it, I know I’m not.
I cross my arms over my chest. “Give me my stuff then and I will be out of your way.”
Jagger looks over his shoulder at his brothers.
“Do either of you know where Daisy’s packed bag and phone might be?
” he asks, his tone way too relaxed for this tense situation.
It makes me want to fly across the room and slap him, hurt him the way Dante’s words hurt me so deeply to hear.
Tears threaten, but I won’t let them free; they have taken enough from me.
“No idea.” Cruz shakes his head, his lie crushing me in a way I didn’t think it could.
Asher shrugs. “Sorry, little princess, I haven’t seen it.”
Sickness churns in my stomach. What the hell is going on here?
Is this some fucking game to them? I take a shaky step back from Jagger, my eyes still locked on his because I have no clue what he’s about to do.
I have no clue what I’m about to do. An erratic energy swirls through me as I stare back at them.
I thought I knew them, thought I was someone to them.
Adrenaline surges through me, making me feel crazy, erratic, my eyes flicking from Cruz to Asher to Jagger.
I have to get away from them, with my stuff or not.
Cruz has the same look on his face as the first night I met him, cruel and slightly deranged.
Asher looks me over with a coolness I haven’t seen before; it’s a little scary even, his charming pretty-boy features nowhere to be seen.
And Jagger—well, he has this air of intimidating confidence about him, a sense of power in the way he’s towering over me that tells me I’m screwed.
They know what my plan was, and they’re not going to let me go.
My heart races, and sweat trickles down my back. In a snap decision, I turn on my heel and bolt.