Chapter 19
Nineteen
Melissa
I should've known things were going too smoothly.
It's my life. Shit always manages to fuck up in one way or another.
When I walked in my house, there was a bounce in my step. I was certain that I was only hours away from being completely free. Once again, I didn't look around. Didn't check my surroundings. I went straight into the back room and started packing a bag for Tyler.
Nothing ever goes to plan in my life.
"You think you can play me for a fool?" A deep, gravely voice speaks from the dark corner and I drop the bag in my hand.
I spin and search for the location of the sound. I don't have to look very far. Deke is right there, a knife in his hand and a grimace on his face.
"No!" I yelp and try to run out of the room. He's much faster and much closer than I thought. Deke catches me before I can get a hand on the door knob.
"You fucking bitch! Where is it? Where's the paper?
" Deke yells as he grabs hold of my hair and drags me down the hall.
I kick my legs and claw at his arms. This time I won't be quiet.
I'm going to fight as hard as I can. Not that it'll do me any good.
There's no one around here to hear me. Still, I'm not going to make this easy for him.
With a flexibility I didn't know I had, I lift my leg high and wind up kicking him straight in the face.
He stumbles, letting go of my hair for a second. "What the fuck! Don't make me gut you." He stands up tall, looking down at me.
"You're not going to do shit to me. You're nobody. You'll never get away with this." I hiss in his direction.
I'm talking pure nonsense right now. I know for a fact that the police aren't going to find him. Not unless we hand-deliver him wrapped in a bow. I've made several complaints about him already, but it never goes anywhere.
In fact, I'm only talking to keep him occupied. I may be all alone right now, but Light is coming. I can feel it in my bones. He'll come for me.
Deke towers over me, breathing hard like he has been running. Sweat clings to his temples and his pupils are wide, that dangerous mix of panic and mania flickering in his eyes.
"Where is it?" he growls. "Where’s the bill of sale?"
I glare up at him, my blood pounding in my ears. My lip aches from where I bit it when he dragged me here, but I force a smirk anyway.
"The Brutal Chains have it."
He freezes. His face twists like he just bit into something rotten.
"You’re lying."
"I’m not."
He starts pacing the room, muttering under his breath, fingers twitching around the knife he still clutches. Every few seconds he glances back at me like I’m the problem he can’t solve.
"You’ve got no idea what you’ve done," he says, voice rising. "Those bastards, your little biker boy and his patch buddies, they’re working with them. You know who I mean. My old crew. The same ones who want me dead."
He jabs the knife in my direction.
"You think I’m gonna lose everything to a bunch of ex-con losers and some weak woman with a piece of paper?"
There it is. The real fear behind all his barking.
I stare him down. My head throbs. My arms ache from being dragged across the floor. But I don’t flinch.
He steps closer. Too close.
And then he hits me.
His hand cracks across my face, hard and fast, the sound echoing through the room. My head snaps sideways. Pain radiates down my jaw and behind my eyes. For a second, I see stars.
But I laugh. It bubbles out of me, low and bitter.
"You sound like a whiny teenager," I rasp. "Crying about everything you think you deserve. You’re pathetic."
He grabs me by the arm and yanks me up. I stumble, knees weak, but he doesn’t give me time to recover. He shoves me into a wooden chair and yanks zip ties tight around my wrists and ankles. The plastic digs into my skin. He loops another across my chest and pulls it until I can barely breathe.
"You think this is a game?" he sneers.
He rips a strip of duct tape off the roll and slaps it across my mouth. The force of it makes my eyes water.
"You want to run your mouth? Let’s see how much talking you can do now."
I scream behind the tape. It is nothing but noise, muffled and useless.
He drags the chair across the room and positions it in front of Tyler's mirror. My reflection stares back at me, wild hair, flushed skin, blood at the corner of my eyebrow.
He crouches behind me, pulls out his phone, and takes the picture.
I watch the screen as he sends it. My heart sinks when I see Light’s number flash at the top of the message thread.
Deke stands slowly and slides the phone back into his pocket.
"He’ll come for you," he says. "He’s going to walk right into my hands. That’s what love does. It makes men weak. Stupid. Predictable."
He circles around and squats in front of me. His breath smells like stale liquor and something fouler.
"You’re the key. You’re the way back in. The land tied to that business is worth millions. Retail, condos, cartel backing. I’m done being small time. When this deal goes through, I’m unstoppable."
He stands again, pacing now, getting louder.
"All I need is that fucking paper. That’s it. That’s the last thing standing in my way."
I close my eyes.
I had no idea. I never thought the business was worth that much. No wonder he’s been so desperate. No wonder he snapped.
But now he has me, and Light is coming.
I know it. I can feel it deep in my chest.
And I pray. I pray with everything I have left that he doesn’t come alone. That he doesn’t run straight into the trap Deke is setting.
Because I don’t want the man I love to die for me.