by KC Kean
Then, there’s my guys. Maverick. Aiden. West. Their names play on repeat in my head. I want to scream with every passing breath I’m not with them. Even fucking West and his shitty lies. All this quiet in here makes me feel ready to listen to him. I know I heard the desperation in his voice at the party before I stormed out.
Right now, I really wish Aiden was here. With his ability to bring a smile to my face and laughter to my lips. He would be the perfect remedy to take all this pain and fear away. West would be giving me the strength and support I need like his life depended on it. While Maverick would force me to get my shit together, pushing me out of my comfort zone.
Swiping my hair from my face, I take another calming breath. I’m exhausted. My eyes are tired, but I’m too scared to close them. My body aches from sitting in the same spot, and my ankles and wrists hurt from the restraints.
Apart from remembering how to get out of zip ties and duct tape, I don’t know what my next move should be. I need to figure out what lies beyond the door, and then I can plan my escape.
The sound of a key rattling in the lock startles my thoughts, and I’m surprised to see a different man pushing the door open. Dressed head to toe in a black tracksuit, he looks like the muscle of this operation. Tattoos cover his neck and bald head, but there is the slightest hint of softness to his eyes, blink and you’d miss it.
“Up,” is all he can grunt as he bends down to grab my wrists.
In one swift move, I’m pulled to my feet, and it takes a moment to gain my balance. I feel light-headed with the sudden movement. I can’t take a step with the duct tape firmly around my ankles. But that doesn’t matter to this guy since he effortlessly lifts me over his shoulder.
I want to scream against the tape, let out my frustration at his rough handling of me, and demand for him to put me down. But I know my focus needs to be on my surroundings if I want to survive.
Leaving the room, he turns right, and in front of me is a fire exit door and another door. When I try to look around him to see what else there is, it seems as though we’re just in a corridor with a few other doors leading off.
My main focus is on how close I am to a fire escape. My heart beats with hope as he enters a room to his left, at the opposite end of the hall, and drops me into a seat. A door slams shut behind me as I try to calm the dizziness that washes over me.
Tears prick my eyes, making me close them as I try to calm the panic building inside of me. I need this fucking duct tape off my lips. It’s not helping with my anxiety.
As if hearing my thoughts, a shadow falls over me, and I pry my eyes open to come face to face with Frankie again. He fills my vision, and I’m unable to see where we actually are. But having him up close again puts me on edge.
I can deal with being locked in a room alone. It’s when I’m in his presence that the fear heightens. Frankie's hand reaches out, gripping the edge of the duct tape covering my lips, and pulls.
I refuse to hiss at the sting, but my face feels like it’s on fire, and my eyes water even more. Frankie grins down at me, his eyebrow slightly raised as if he’s surprised I’m not crying like a baby. I want to, but I won’t.
I can’t stop myself from wetting my dry lips, and Frankie watches every swipe of my tongue. Deciding against the unwanted attention, I tuck my lips in, cringing at how sensitive they are.
“If you do as I say, little bee, you can keep it off,” he murmurs, hinting at the tape, and my defenses are on high alert. I won’t be doing anything he says, even if it means a bit of tape covering my lips.
Moving back, he sits on the edge of a desk. Casting my gaze around this room, I find myself in an office, but I know it isn’t his. Paperwork is scattered everywhere, and everything looks minimal. The desk looks like faux wood, the seat on the other side is cheap, and the plastic chair beneath me doesn’t scream luxury like the man before me.
Except for the door I know is behind me, there is another in the far corner to my left, while the wall to my right is lined with filing cabinets.
“You’re here because I know Ricky Mills, aka Maverick Miller, will come running to save you, and you make a very pretty leveraging tool.” I turn my gaze to him, and he continues. “But, until then, you’re going to tell me everything I want to know, and maybe I won’t kill you.”
Hearing the words from his lips, that my life is on the line, confirms all my fears. But he’s a fool if he thinks I’m not loyal. Maybe not to Featherstone as an overall, but I am to the people that are close to me.
“I need to use the bathroom.”
I don’t respond to what he said, but I stare him down, waiting for him to respond to me. With a simple nod, he swings his arm out to the left where the other door is.
“Little bee, if you can get to the bathroom in your current state, you can use it.”
I refuse to let him see my embarrassment or discomfort as I slowly rise to my feet. There is barely any give with the duct tape wrapped around my legs, so I know I won’t be able to walk over there like this.
My need for the bathroom outweighs the need to keep every skill I know hidden, even if it’s only a few. Leaning over slightly, my hands posed in a downward prayer, I thrust them down my legs with all my strength, forcing my ankles to separate, which makes the tape tear open.
Pulling the rest of the tape from my legs, I stand tall, meeting his gaze again. The frown pulling between his eyes makes me grin on the inside. This motherfucker didn’t think I had it in me, and it feels good to prove someone wrong for a change.
He doesn’t stop me as I head for the bathroom, and I refuse to look over my shoulder to check if he’s following me. Shutting the door closed behind me, I’m surprised at the privacy I’m being given.
Quickly glancing around the tiny space, there is only a toilet and sink in here. The yellow walls are peeling, and the smell is highly questionable. There’s no lock on the door, and I’m definitely going to have to hover, but desperate times call for desperate measures.
The second the chain flushes and I turn the taps on, the door swings open behind me. I try to keep calm, refraining from spinning around at their approach, but the second a hand grips my hair tightly, I know my mistake.
“That’s enough freedom now, little bee,” Frankie growls in my ear, his fingers pulling tighter, making my back stiffen.
With a sharp tug, he whirls me around, and my hands rise to his, trying to ease the tension in his grip, but since they’re still tied together, it’s no use. Throwing me back down into the seat I was in earlier. I glare up at him as he resumes his stance against the desk again.
“Now, you have approximately one hour to tell me every fucking thing about Featherstone.”
Jess
The palm of his hand hits my face again as someone holds me back in the chair. He’s already punched me a handful of times, but the throbbing subsides to the sting of the slap. I can feel my cheek swelling, and my head pulses with pain, but I still refuse to answer his question.
My head falls to the side, the taste of copper on my lips from a busted lip. Damn, do I want to cry. I want to scream. I want to wish this was all a dream, but I know it’s not.
“I’m going to ask you one more time, why would Featherstone send a man like Maverick to infiltrate me and my business, hmm?” He twirls a strand of my hair, a complete contrast to the brutality from only moments ago as he waits for a response I don’t actually have.
“I said, I. Don’t. Know.” My response is slowly dragged out. Even through all the pain, my snark seems to come out, but I’ve repeated myself too many times already. If Frankie had done his research like he says, he would know that I don’t have any involvement in this shit.
This will forever be the moment I know with every ounce of certainty that Maverick is mine, and I am his. His fierce growling need to protect me at all costs usually feels excessive, but I can almost understand it now. Because I would rather die at the hands of this man, to protect what’s mine, than give Frankie Winters w
hat he fucking wants.
“Not good enough, little bee,” he grunts, moving back to lean on the desk while one of his men continues to restrain me.
“Why do you keep calling me that?” I ask because apparently I’m stupid and like to poke a bear when he’s mad.
“Call you what?” He grunts in response, entertaining me for a moment.
“Little bee.”
He looks me over, contemplating whether to respond or not, and I’m surprised when he does. “Because you’re this dainty little thing, buzzing along with the role you’ve been given in life. But the moment someone makes you scared, you’ll try your best to sting them. Only, you’ll be dead without your little stinger, and the person who you stung will carry on living. Not even a scar to remember you by.”
His words hit my soul, and it takes everything I have not to respond.
Focusing back on my surroundings, I glance down at my feet. After I tore through the duct tape earlier, they haven’t tried to restrain me in the same way since. So, I still have the zip ties cutting into my wrists, but other than that, they’re using this man to hold me down.
“Okay, let’s take a different approach.” Straightening his suit jacket, my heart beats faster as I prepare for his attack. So, I’m surprised when he doesn’t move towards me. “I’d had a lot of suspicion about Maverick, but I must admit that my interest was piqued when a stunning redhead held his attention at his last fight. Almost a vision of pure innocence, with a slight roughness of an unpolished jewel.”
I can only gape at him after his absurd analogy of me. I’m all for a compliment, but fear coats my body with the way he says I’m stunning, and I’m scared this is going to go in a completely different direction.
“So, tell me, why were you at my warehouse too?”
“Ricky was called for a fight, and I wanted to come along and watch him do his thing, that’s all.”
Calling Maverick, Ricky feels completely strange on my tongue, and I definitely don’t like it. But I can answer that question with a simple answer, and I want to maintain Maverick’s role as much as possible. Even if he did pick me up off the Featherstone campus, I’ve never been in this situation before. Maybe they should add interrogation training to the syllabus. Although, one quick look around me, perhaps not.
His grin is wicked as he stares me down, and the guy pinning me to the chair from behind tightens his hold. I’m going to have bruises from his fingers digging into my skin at my waist. He’s practically touching my ribs.
“I would love to know what you did to piss Gina Williams off. She sang like a fucking canary with the help of a little alcohol. She was in a foul mood after seeing you and Maverick leave after his fight. Apparently, he was hers first.”
My heart about stops at his words, and my body tenses from head to toe. That fucking bitch. What did she say to him? I knew I’d seen her in the crowd, but I thought she’d been a figment of my imagination.
My mind wanders back to when I stepped into the SUV. Did Gina know? Is that why she was suddenly so sweet to me? Guiding me to what I thought was my escape but was ultimately my capture? If she is a part of this, I swear I will make her regret it.
Could Gina have had something to do with the notes I’d been receiving and my trashed room? Or could that have been someone else entirely? Like Reece Wicker, with his leering gaze and wandering hands? All these fucking scorned lovers are hurting my damn brain.
“I’ve heard Featherstone runs on skill sets. So, tell me, little bee, what is yours?” I don’t move as he leans forward, stroking his fingers down my cheek where he’s hit me repeatedly. I want to scream at him for his stupid fucking nickname. I’m no little bee.
My eyes feel puffy and swollen, and my face is throbbing from the pain while also sensitive to his touch. The restraint from the guy behind me only adds to my injuries.
“Don’t make me keep repeating myself.”
I can feel his calm façade disappearing again, this guy is like Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, and it’s giving me fucking whiplash. Deciding it would be safer to answer this question, I downplay it as much as possible.
“Science. My skill set is focused on Science.”
He leans back on the desk again, slipping back into Hyde mode. I’m starting to notice the differences between him. When he leans forward, it’s because he can’t control his rage inside. His pupils dilate, and his nostrils flare. When he leans back against the desk, his eyes are a soft brown, and his breathing is much calmer. Frankie is far too unpredictable, and I hope Featherstone hasn't underestimated that about him.
“Are you comfortable?” He asks, with no care at all in his voice, so I don’t bother to answer. “You’ll find yourself in a much better situation if you just tell me the truth.” Steepling his fingers as his eyes trail up my body. He pays particular attention to the slit in my dress.
Am I comfortable? Look at the fucking state of me.
“Tell me who the members of The Ring are.” It’s an order, not a question.
Swallowing hard, I keep my eyes trained on his. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
Leaping forward, he’s back in my face before I can even fully register he’s moved. “Listen here, you little bitch. Your words will be the only thing to stop me from grabbing your friend… Luna, is it? So, start talking, or I start hunting.” Hands braced on the arms of the chair, he growls down at me.
Luna? What the fuck does he know about Luna? I would do anything at all to protect my friend. Anything. But again, this twatwaffle doesn’t know enough about us. Does he know what Luna is capable of? What her Aceholes are capable of?
I would be telling him everything for nothing because they would destroy him in a heartbeat.
I don’t respond. I just continue to stare Frankie down, so I can watch when his next move comes. Just as predicted, my silence earns me another punch, to my stomach this time, knocking the wind from my lungs. I can’t stop the slight sob that passes my lips as the pain throbs.
I think I’m going to be sick. I can’t help but gag as I try to catch my stolen breath.
My breath stalls in my chest as his hand wraps around my throat. My body feels frozen in place, burning under his hand, and I know there’s going to be another bruise. “Why the fuck are they watching me?” He spits in my face as he shouts the words at me, and I know this is it. This is the moment that will decide how I die.
I’ll either die afraid or die fighting.
And I refuse to be afraid any longer. There is no way I can take down these two guys, and whoever else is here, especially with my arms still tied together. But I’d rather die trying than helplessly in this chair with his hands around my neck.
They haven’t done anything with my legs. They’re the only part of my body I can move, but the way Frankie is hovering over me will make it difficult.
Glowering down at me, I can feel the pressure building in my head as he continues to cut my airway off. Just as I begin to lift my knee, the door behind me swings open, crashing into the wall beside it.
“Frankie, you better come quick. We have visitors.” Someone shouts frantically from outside the door, and I hear Frankie curse under his breath as he releases his hold on my neck. I gasp loudly as I try to suck in as much oxygen as possible, all while this fucker behind me still holds me in place.
“Is it them?” Frankie asks, glancing down at me.
“It’s them and their whole fucking cavalry.” Damn, who else does this guy have issues with? I feel like he must constantly be in a state of war with anyone against him, and he likely loves it, thrives on it.
“Fuck. Go, I’m on my way,” he shouts before looking at the guy holding me in place. “Tie her up and put her back in the room. Use different fucking material though. It seems our little bee here is more resourceful than I thought.” Gripping my chin, he brings his face right to mine, our noses brushing as he stares right into my eyes. “I’ll be seeing you soon, little bee.”
I don’t know what th
e fuck is going on, but I was just saved by the bell or the door’s bang, to be more specific. But the fire in me to die trying is still burning, and I refuse to take this anymore.
Luna would be beating down every fucker in her way. I need to take from the strength she gives me to escape this place.
It’s time I fight for my survival.
West
My heart pounds in my chest, but with every inch we get closer to the warehouse, I feel the physical and emotional traits of my skill set wash over me. The weaponry haul we have between all the vehicles is war worthy, and my fingers are itching to feel the weight of a gun in my hands.
Apart from my need for Jess, all my other emotions are blocked out, the Featherstone sniper in me taking over. Heartless, driven, and focused, just like they trained me to be. Taking deep, controlled breaths, I maintain my heart rate at a calm level.
As soon as we had the location locked down, we moved. Opting to bring in some vans as transportation instead of using SUVs. So, there are eight vans, each holding ten people plus the drivers. Juliana is following in an SUV, so we have a smoother transport mode for Jess when we get her out of here, like I know we will.
Maverick and Aiden sit to my left, while Rafe and Bryce are on my right. Leaving Luna and the Aces facing us. The overhead light is on as duffel bags lie at our feet, filled with guns, smoke grenades, and explosives.
The tension is thick between us as we all sit worrying in silence.
I can see the darkness in Maverick’s eyes. He’s focused like I am, his skill set ruling his actions right now too. While Aiden looks a little out of his depth, even if he’s doing well at hiding it. I’m going to make sure he stays with the surveillance team because he doesn’t have a fighting background.
Bryce is on the phone, likely on speakerphone in all the other vans, barking out orders and growling expectations. Rafe is leaning forward, head over a tablet with Kai as they look over the warehouse’s blueprints. It amazes me what they can find on the internet when they know where to look.
Oscar and Parker are quiet in the corner, determination in their eyes as they prepare for what’s to come, and I don’t miss Parker’s hand on Oscar’s thigh, squeezing in comfort. I’m glad they can all support each other, creating a stronger unit for my moon.
