Chapter 18
BEX - UP FOR GRABS
Razor smiles down at me when he says, “Well, the good news is, you just announced you’re not Clutch’s ol’ lady anymore.”
His grip tightens, and he pulls me closer as he adds, “And that means you’re up for grabs.”
The prospect swallows hard. “I… I don’t think Clutch would agree with that R…Razor.”
Razor’s head snaps toward him, a warning in his voice when he says, “Mind your business, prospect.”
The kid doesn’t move. I have to give him that. He steels himself, saying, “Clutch asked me to keep an eye on her. Make sure she is safe until he gets back.” His voice shakes as he adds, “I… I know he wouldn’t want her unprotected.”
A shadow moves behind him, another brother steps forward, and the punch lands hard in the prospect's stomach. He doubles over with a grunt.
“You gonna argue with a brother?” the man sneered. “Or you gonna do what you’re told?”
Razor flips open a knife; the metal gleams under the lights. The kid pales as he tries to stand up.
“I…” His voice falters. “I’m sorry.”
My heart rate kicks up and I hope he isn’t saying what I think he is. But he doesn’t look at me, he straightens slowly, then calls out to the girls. “Let’s go, Angel’s orders. Back to your room.”
The girls hesitate, then slip off the men’s laps and follow him down the hall.
Razor turns back to me, licking his lips.
“Well now.”
His smile is slow and predatory.
“Where were we, Rebecca?”
The way he says my name makes my skin crawl.
“Is that even your real name?” he asks with a chuckle.
I don’t answer and he glances back at the table of men.
“Who thinks we should keep the party going?”
Laughter ripples through them and I try to take a step back, but bump into someone behind me. Rough hands grab at my ass, squeezing.
“Yeah,” the man laughs, his putrid breath hot on my cheek. “I see why Clutch had his panties in a knot over this one.”
I twist away, only to bump into another one. A hand grabs my breast, squeezing.
“Nice.”
Rage flashes through me as I try to shove and fight my way out. I feel even smaller than usual with them crowding me. Panic threatens to pull me under, the knowledge that sometimes blacking out… forgetting… is the only way to survive.
“Don’t touch me.” I yell.
But they are closing in now, herding me backward, toward the corner of the room. I know if I don’t get away now, I never will. There is no way they let me survive this.
Razor steps closer as he reaches out and pulls the elastic from my hair. The strands fall loose over my shoulders and he slides the band onto his wrist. Then, casually… an almost soft intimate action, he pushes a lock of hair behind my ear, saying, “There.” His voice dropped, “That’s better.”
Then he licks his thumb and presses it against my split lip. Pain flares bright and bold, but I hold in my cry. He pulls his thumb back, looks at the blood and then sucks it into his mouth.
“You taste good.” he murmurs, eyes flaring.
My stomach twists and I have to fight to keep the bile down.
“Tell me Rebecca, do you like it rough?” he asks.
My heart is pounding. I know I need to get out, I need to get away now. I switch my work bag to the arm that has the backpack slung over it. I don’t let the fear show, instead I lean closer.
Just slightly, just enough, saying, “Come here.”
His eyes light up as he steps closer, close enough that I can smell the whiskey on his breath. I lift my empty hand slowly, trying my best for a coy smile. I rest it on his shoulder, batting my lashes at him and then drive my knee up as hard as I can.
The impact is brutal, and he folds instantly. But I won't stop. This is my only shot. My hand moves to the back of his head and I push down as I raise my knee again and it catches him square in the nose.
Blood explodes down his face, across my jeans and I shove him aside. He falls into two of the other brothers. I turn, twisting out of grabbing hands and run.
“Grab her!” I hear, but I don't stop.
Chairs crash behind me. Boots pounding. I grab at anything I can as I pass it and pull it behind me trying to slow down whoever is behind me. I almost fall when a table I knocked over hits the back of my leg. I stumble, but somehow manage to keep myself upright.
I hear someone asking Razor if he ok and he roars, “Get your fucking hands off me. Get Her…”
I slam through the front door and burst outside. The night air hits my lungs and I suck in a ragged breath.
I hear crashing behind me as the door swings open and closed, I keep moving… I can’t stop… I…
“Run, bitch!” Razor’s voice roars behind me. “If I ever see your face in this territory again…”
I reach my car and my hands are shaking.
“If I catch you…”
Keys. Where the fuck are my keys.
“...you’re dead!”
I find them and jerk the door open. I don't slow or look behind me as I throw the bags in.
“And if you try to talk to anyone?” Razor continues.
I freeze for half a second.
“Remember who I work with.” His voice drops lower. “I’ll sell you to people who’ll make you wish you’d never been born.”
Cold terror slides down my spine as I slide into the driver seat.
“Run, Rebecca.” He laughs.
The engine roars to life.
“Because if I find you…”
I slam the car into gear.
“... You’re mine.”
The tires spit gravel as I tear toward the gate.
The guard steps forward, questioning, “What’s going…”
“The ER called.” My voice shakes just enough to sound believable. I don’t hear engines roaring to life behind me, but I don’t trust that they aren’t coming after me, “They’re slammed tonight. If any of the brothers end up there I need to be on shift.”
He hesitates, but then waves me through.
The gate slides open. Slow. It’s too fucking slow. Then finally…
I’m through.
The gate slams shut behind me and a sob rips through me. I choke it back immediately.
Not yet. Keep it together.
I press harder on the gas, the engine revving harder. I need distance, distance from the clubhouse, from Razor… from Clutch. From the life I just burned to the ground.
The engine makes a choking sound, and I tap the dashboard whispering, “Come on, old girl, you gotta help me get out of here.”
I don’t know where I’m going, not yet, but I know one thing… I’m not looking back.