Twenty-One

S titch had been banging on my door, like the fucking reaper coming to take my ass to hell, and for what? To say there was no fucking news yet. Seriously? You couldn’t just text that shit to me?

“You scared the shit out of me, you asshole.”

Stitch shrugged. “I tried calling you, but your line was busy, and I needed to talk to you about something else. Can I come in?” I backed up and let him into my room, shoving the door closed behind him. It wasn’t normal for him to come into any of our private spaces, so it worried me. He cast his eyes around, a brief smirk appearing.

“Like what you’ve done with the place.”

Asshole . So I was a bit messy, so what? Oh well, except for the fact that I’d fallen for a woman who’d go into a fucking anxiety attack if she saw this. For once, I felt shame for how messy I’d become. When the hell did I start just leaving shit everywhere? Oh yeah, when I had a knife left between my fucking shoulder blades.

“What’s up?” Stitch dropped down on my only chair, and sighed heavily. Okay, I’ll just stand up then. I leaned against my dresser. My room was one of the smaller ones, but I didn’t need much space, did I?

“That burner phone we found in Tommy’s locker?” Oh yeah, the last big find of the fucking day. Great. I shrugged, knowing he’d get to the point eventually.

“There was some disturbing shit on there, man. Not just bookmarked pages with the most violent fucking porn you can imagine, but uh… notes. Details. About all of us. About… uh…”

I straightened up all of a sudden, a chill running down my spine.

“About what?”

He ran a hand through his hair.

“He’s been tracking everyone’s movements. There were detailed schedules of our comings and goings.”

“And?”

“He had your doc flagged as a potential lover, along with her work address.” What? Fuck! I took a step at him, rage filling me, before I realised that was the wrong course of action.

“You can’t bring her here, but you should get her somewhere safe. I’ll send Ryder with you.” I nodded dumbly, already starting to freak out about what could be happening to her.

“Is everyone accounted for right now?”

Stitch nodded. “Just Tommy we can’t be sure of right now, man. On the offchance it’s him, and not a set up, we should operate as if he’s a threat right now.”

I grabbed my cut and pulled it back on, stepping into my boots and heading for the door.

“Ryder’s waiting outside for you. Nick’s on the gate, and he knows to let you guys out, and to keep his mouth shut.”

“Fuck. Thanks, VP. I’ll get her squared away, and keep you posted.” On that note, I ran back to my bed and grabbed my phone, popping a quick text to Grace.

Me: Coming to yours right now. Keep your doors locked until I get there.

She hadn’t replied by the time I reached Ryder, and we hopped in the van, but as we were leaving through the gates, she replied.

Bossy doc: Gotcha. Booty call?

I snorted, but something deep in my chest wasn’t eased by her message. Did it sound like her? Was I just imagining that maybe it didn’t? Was I freaking myself out for no fucking reason?

“Breathe, brother. We’ll get there as fast as we can. I’m sure she’s fine though, yeah? Her home address wasn’t in the phone. Just her name.”

That didn’t exactly settle my soul either.

“This fucker has proved he can hack all kinds of shit. I mean, he’s been into Ice’s systems enough that I’m starting to wonder why the fuck he wasn’t our tech guy instead of Ice.”

Ryder snorted, slamming his foot down as we moved onto an empty stretch of road.

“Don’t let Ice hear you saying that. He and Tes… uh, Grease... are the shit, according to him.”

Yeah, that’s exactly what Ice would say. I sat up taller in my seat as we started down Grace’s street, and by the time Ryder was parking up, I was already halfway out of the damn thing, stumbling briefly as I hit the road before we’d even stopped. It wasn’t like I could see anything from the bottom of her drive, but I could feel it. Something was wrong.

“Grace, Jesus,” I hissed, running toward her door, horrified when I reached it, to see that it wasn’t closed properly. Fuck .

Ryder was right on my tail, but I wasn’t waiting for him.

“Grace!” I kept yelling her name, as I ran through her house. There was very little out of place in the living room, and into the hallway, but I knew she was a neat freak, so even these few displaced items were a shock. A pair of shoes kicked across the floor. Her jacket on the floor by the door. One of those silly little end tables on its side.

I ran for the stairs, yelling her name still, and hearing nothing in response. When I reached her bedroom, it was a fucking disaster zone. The bedding was dragged halfway across the floor, and there was a glass on the floor, with a red splotch beside it, which I fucking hoped was wine, and no sign of my woman. Jesus fuck. I couldn’t breathe all of a sudden. My lungs were trying to expand, but no air was getting in, and my heart felt like it was about to fucking explode from the panic.

“Breathe, man. We’ll find her.” Ryder already had his phone out of his pocket, and was dialling someone.

“Yeah. It’s not good, man. The house has been breached, and it’s a mess. She’s not here.”

I ignored him, scouring the room with my eyes, like somehow I’d fucking find something. Movement outside the window caught my eye, and I ran to it to see someone moving toward the house, streaking through the night air, like they were being chased. Fuck!

I shoved past Ryder, running down the stairs so fast I nearly broke my fucking neck. I reached the kitchen, just as the door crashed open and a bloody, sobbing Grace slammed right into me, immediately wrapped in my arms.

“Babe, Jesus fuck! RY! She’s here!”

Grace

T hat noise downstairs hadn’t been the neighbours. I’d listened for more sounds, and when I heard them, I’d started to climb out of bed to check, but suddenly panic set in and I froze. There was someone in my house? Someone was coming for me? Shit. What were the chances it wasn’t related to what was happening with Torch and his club?

Something fell over downstairs, and my terrified mind released my limbs, letting me get up, as I tiptoed to the doorway. Should I close the door and barricade myself in? Should I run? Should I scream? Hide? My phone! I ran back to the bed to grab my phone, hesitating for a split second. Do I ring Torch or the police? Idiot! I dialled 999, and just as I hit the button to make the call, there was a thud in my doorway, a low growling sound, and someone crashed into me, hard.

He was big, muscled, and too strong for me to fight. He pinned me down on the floor, and snatched my phone, ending the call to the emergency services, before tossing my phone aside.

“Slut,” he hissed as he slapped me, and grabbed my throat, trapping me between his hard body and my carpeted floor.

“Please,” I gasped, struggling with him, slapping at his arm, and trying to dig my nails into it. He had thick sleeves on, leather gloves, and a balaclava which covered all but his eyes.

“I like it when they beg,” he whispered, leaning way too close to my ear, his fingers tightening on my throat.

“Was gonna fuck you before I kill you, but now I’ll have to hurry. That’s your fault for calling the fucking police, bitch.”

He wrapped both hands around my throat, and started to choke me, determined to kill me before he’d get caught. My only chance was to keep fighting, or die, right here in my old bedroom, in the house my parents still owned.

A chance move got my leg just in the right place, and my knee connected with his testicles as hard as I could manage. His breath rasped out of him, and he cursed, as his grip on my throat loosened, and he rolled away from me.

That was all the opportunity I needed, as I scrambled up from the floor, and ran. It wasn’t safe to stay in the house, and I had no idea where to go. If I went to my neighbours, they’d be at risk too, and they were all older, and didn’t need the threat.

In the end, I ran outside, into the back garden, hiding beside the shed filled with tools I couldn’t get access to, without the damn key. He’d find me. He’d find me and hurt me. He’d rape me. He’d kill me.

I heard him when he made it out to the garden, roaring out that he’d find me and kill me, but suddenly he yelled the word ‘fuck’, and I peeked around the shed just in time to see him running back inside. I was so scared. So fucking scared, and now that I was hiding away, and the adrenaline was starting to wear off, I hurt everywhere. My face hurt, my throat and neck really hurt, and I felt like I’d been hurt all over, rather than just the places he’d hit me.

I was frozen in place, terrified and alone, and too scared to move. I hoped my call through to the emergency services resulted in them sending someone out, because I needed help. I needed someone to save me. I needed… Torch!

I felt like I could hear his voice yelling out for me, and at first I convinced myself it was just wishful thinking. That I was trying to manifest him, because I was terrified and needed him, but it happened again, and a second voice called out too. Not the bastard who’d attacked me. Torch sounded more frantic with every call, and after several long minutes of telling myself to get my ass in there and let him help me, I finally found I could move, so I did exactly that. I ran. I ran into the house that had always been my sanctuary. The house that was now the site of the greatest horror I’d experienced.

I ran through the kitchen and straight into a hard body, with strong arms wrapping tight around me, as a familiar scent filled my senses, and I knew Torch had me, and I’d be safe.

He kissed the top of my head, holding me against him, his body heat warming me, and starting to fight the chill deep inside me. I was only wearing a small vest and shorts, my usual bed clothing, and it had felt ridiculously insignificant, when faced with a predatory male in that way.

“You’re safe, babe, I’ve got you.”

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