I can’t help but shudder at the thought.
I’m in a room that is right beside Derek’s. He’s the president of the MC. His family has been constantly by my side since they found me.
I think back to the night I was rescued.
“It seems we have a run away,” the big boss Charles tells everyone. His eyes sweep over all of the other women.
I would flinch from the harsh look on his face, but I feel like I have no more fight left in me to give.
With every minute, day, week, and month that passes, I feel a small part of me die.
I kept losing hope that someone would find me and, when each woman was put in the room with me, I was filled with even more dread.
I didn’t ask for this life. I don’t know why this life was brought upon me. I wouldn’t wish this on anyone.
I don’t want them to go from sporting the hopeful, angry look to the hopeless, hardened face brought on by a broken life.
I used to have that same look, and each day they tried to break me.
The only time that I got away from Charles or his men was because I was beaten within an inch of my life. They had a doctor on sight who was as sick and twisted as these assholes, and he only stopped them when I was close to dying.
I would then be left alone to “heal.” The doctor gave me pain killers that barely did anything. I had tons of broken bones, bruises, and some cuts from Reaper. He liked to play with a knife, but he never let any of his men use one. He wanted to be the only one to mark my body.
“I don’t know what you guys did, but we will find her. She’s not going to like the consequences of running away from me. Just be glad that I don’t want my trophies touched, or I would let my men at you,” he growls.
His eyes are cold. I can only hope that these women know what they are doing.
I know firsthand that his patience is not to be tested.
These girls seem to have such great faith in their club and, from what they say, I can tell that they are with good men. If only I had met a great man and not the asshole who put me in this position.
I move closer to the wall and try not to wince at the bruising on my stomach.
One of Charles’ men burst through the door.
“Boss, we have company!” he yells frantically.
The man curses. “Who is here? I’ll deal with them later. I’m talking to my trophies,” he says dismissively.
The guy shakes his head rapidly.
“No, boss, you are going to want to see this. This isn’t a friend.”
The boss looks at him with hard cold eyes. “Well, who the fuck would come onto my land?”
Whoever is here, I can feel this is about to get ugly.
I glance at the women and notice that they are all wearing smug expressions.
The look on their faces is the only thing that gives me hope that it’s one of their clubs coming to save them.
If this backfires on them, I hate to think of what will happen.
There is a lot of shouting, tension, and rage in the air.
I flick my eyes around the room the best I can, but every movement hurts. They have been hurting me extra hard since the trophies came in.
I look at the men in front. They all seem to be angry and around the same age as Reaper.
“We had the same enemies!” Charles screams at the men.
I finally look at Charles who is holding a gun to one of the men.
I look in this man’s eyes and see something that I haven’t seen in months.
The protectiveness my father holds in his eyes, like he would do anything for his daughter.
The second I register that Charles is going to shoot, I don’t hesitate.
I lunge at him.
I move in front of the gun so quickly. When it goes off, I feel a blinding pain.
Charles looks at me in shock while I manage a tiny smirk.
He can’t break me.
My fight never left.
When he’s tackled to the ground, I fall over and everything goes black.
I can’t help but feel terror when I think of Charles’ eyes.
He may not have broken me, but he’s in my head.
I’m afraid that I won’t be able to get him out. I know that they don’t plan on keeping him alive; if he is even still alive.
I try to not let myself think of it. I can’t help the thoughts and memories as they creep in. How do you move on from something so horrific?
The Vicious Snakes tell me that I’m safe and that no one will harm me again. They tell me not to worry and that Charles is being dealt with.
The question is how do I trust something like that?
Sure, the Vicious Snakes saved me from the life of hell I was living where I was just waiting for the day that I would either die from the torture, or be killed by Reaper or Charles when they had finally had enough of me. Those were horrible, yet surprisingly freeing thoughts that crossed my mind daily.
They were bikers and, with the things that I have seen and that have been done to
