Chapter 14
AUbrEY
Tears blurred my vision, but I angrily wiped them away. I couldn’t fall apart. Not yet.
I climbed into my car and gripped the steering wheel as I took a few slow, deep breaths. I needed to be calm enough to drive, which was asking a lot of myself when I was completely shattered.
It took fifteen minutes to get my emotions controlled enough that I stopped crying. And another five for my hands to stop shaking.
Finally starting the car, I backed out of the driveway with an unfamiliar destination in mind.
Canyon had told me where the clubhouse was, just in case of an emergency when I couldn’t reach him.
I never thought I’d actually need that information like this.
But right now, it felt like the only place I could go for answers.
I had a hard time focusing on the road with my emotions a chaotic storm inside me. I was hurt. Angry with Tripp for dropping all of this on me. Pissed at Canyon for possibly lying to me. Confused about what was real and what wasn’t.
But I kept driving because I needed to know whether the man I had fallen so hard for had been playing me from the beginning. My hands wouldn’t stop trembling on the wheel, but I clung to the fragile hope that what Canyon and I had was real. I didn’t know how I would survive if it wasn’t.
The drive to the clubhouse felt like it took forever, even though it wasn’t that far.
By the time I reached the edge of town, my eyes were swollen, and my face was a mess.
I caught a glimpse of myself in the rearview mirror and realized I couldn’t walk into the clubhouse looking like this.
Not around a bunch of hardened bikers and the confident, beautiful women I’d seen with them around town.
I spotted a small convenience store up ahead and quickly pulled into the parking lot. I needed a few minutes to pull myself together before I faced Canyon and demanded the truth.
I parked and took a shaky breath before heading inside. The bright fluorescent lights felt harsh on my sensitive eyes, but I forced myself to focus. I couldn’t face Canyon looking like I’d just fallen apart.
Grabbing a small basket, I quickly picked up a bottle of water, a pack of tissues, wet wipes, a cheap hairbrush, mascara, and a tube of lip balm.
I paid without making eye contact with the cashier, then slipped into the tiny restroom at the back of the store.
I did my best to clean up—wiping away the tear tracks on my cheeks, brushing out my hair, and putting on a little mascara and lip balm so I didn’t look quite so wrecked.
It wasn’t perfect, but it was better. At least now I wouldn’t walk into the clubhouse looking completely broken.
When I stepped back outside, the parking lot was mostly empty. In the distance, I could hear the low hum of traffic on the main road as I clutched the plastic bag with my purchases and walked toward my car, my mind still spinning with everything Tripp had told me.
I only vaguely noticed a white van pulling slowly around the side of the building as I approached my car. My thoughts were too consumed with Canyon and the ache in my chest to pay it much attention. I reached into my purse for my keys, still trying to steady my breathing.
That was when everything went wrong.
A rough hand suddenly grabbed my arm, yanking me backward with brutal force. Before I could scream, another hand clamped hard over my mouth, muffling any sound. A sharp, sickly chemical smell flooded my nose and mouth as something was pressed against my face.
Panic detonated inside me, and I fought wildly.
I kicked my legs, clawed at the arms holding me, and twisted my body with every ounce of strength I had.
Every self-defense lesson my brother had given me played out in my head.
I knew I needed to get away before I was taken to a secondary location.
But I was fighting what seemed like a losing battle.
Pure terror took over, and I tried to scream. The cloth being held against my mouth muffled the sound, and the man holding me was too strong for me to be able to break free.
The drug hit, and my limbs grew heavy and uncoordinated. The world started tilting and blurring around the edges.
As I faded out, a guttural voice muttered near my ear, “Fucking fed is gonna pay.”
From there, my awareness felt fragmented.
As I swam in and out of consciousness, I heard rough male voices.
Felt the vehicle vibrations beneath me. I could’ve sworn rough hands grabbed at me as I drifted sideways.
My panic kept trying to punch through the drug haze, but my body felt too heavy to react properly.
Through it all, the lingering chemical smell in my nostrils made my stomach turn.
I caught small snippets of conversation, but none of it made sense to my foggy brain.
“...fed bastard.”
“… lost years because of him.”
“Make him hurt.”
Then I heard my brother’s name, and ice flooded my chest. I hadn’t been taken randomly. And it wasn’t about Canyon’s motorcycle club. This was about Tripp. Whoever took me hated him enough to kidnap me from a convenience store parking lot.
Then everything went dark.
When I woke up later, my head pounded with a brutal, nauseating rhythm.
My wrists were tied tightly behind my back, the rope digging painfully into my skin.
I was lying on a dirty mattress that smelled of mildew and sweat.
The room around me was ugly, the concrete floor stained with rust and who knew what else.
The lighting was dim, and a stench of old beer, cigarettes, and motor oil made my stomach turn.
I tried to sit up, but the movement sent a wave of dizziness through me. The chemical taste still lingered in my mouth from whatever they’d used to knock me out.
Nearby, a rough male voice started ranting. He sounded drunk and furious.
“That fed bastard ruined my life,” he snarled. “Years I lost because of him. Years! Now I’m finally gonna make him pay.”
My blood ran cold as I realized how dangerous this man was. It sounded like I might not make it out of this alive. A fresh wave of terror rolled through me, but I forced myself to stay quiet.
Then another thought broke through the panic.
Tripp would come for me. And so would Canyon.
Despite everything, I still believed in the man I loved. I knew, deep in my bones, that he loved me. I had felt it in every possessive touch, heated look, and promise he’d whispered about our future. It wasn’t possible to fake that kind of love.
I clung to that certainty like a lifeline while I lay there on the filthy mattress, my wrists burning and heart racing.
Even with all the hurt and betrayal hanging between them, I somehow knew my brother and the man I loved would stand together to get me back.
I just had to survive long enough for them to find me.