Though if I hadn’t been able to tell from his eyes, the handgun he pointed in my direction probably would have tipped me off.
“Scream and you’re dead,” he said, leveling the gun at my forehead as he closed the door behind him. I heard a metallic snick as it was locked from the other side.
“Who are you?” My voice sounded a lot shakier than I would have liked. I would have to practice a confident kidnapee tone in the mirror the next time I had some spare time. If I lived.
“I’m the guy who’s going to blow your brains all over the fucking supply closet if you don’t keep your trap shut.”
His words were crude but poignant, although it was the expression on his face that ultimately led to me shutting my “trap.” This guy was one hundred percent serious. He had killed before and had probably found that he liked it. That’s why he was here with me, and not Bloody Mustache.
I wanted to ask him how long I would be there, why I was there, and what was going to happen to me? But I didn’t want to die, and the look on this guy’s face told me he meant serious business. In the most serious of serious business ways.
Where was Zane? Did he even notice I was missing?
What could these people possibly want from me? It had to be something to do with the tournament, right? Or with Asa? Did Asa have friends outside of The Sick? But why would they toss me in a room like this? Clearly, they were trying to get something from Zane, but he wasn’t the kind of person to be blackmailed or coaxed into anything. It was just plain stupid of them to think otherwise.
I sat back onto my butt with me knees curled up to my chest, eyes locked firmly on the gun in front of me. The man said nothing more to me, and I was too afraid to say anything to him. I was nearly too afraid to breathe. Each haggard breath brought with it a new dose of fear.
I had never been this scared for my own life before. I doubted I ever would be again.
CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR
Zane
I had a sick feeling in my gut and only four games left to go. With a few minutes left before the start of my next game, I looked over the tops of the heads of the crowd, trying to spot Sasha. I couldn’t see her little blonde head anywhere. I knew I wouldn’t find her, but I couldn’t help it. Her absence left me two options.
Either I could stay and play, hoping that she was safe, or I could leave to find her. If I left, who was to say how long she would continue being okay?
I felt a horrible mixture of feelings—grief, fear, anger, guilt. Mostly guilt. How could I have done this to her? I brought her into this world, and she was in danger because of it. I was disgusted with myself, but also disgusted with the lifestyle that had brought me here. Fuck being the president of The Sick. I wanted nothing to do with it if it meant losing her. And when we made it out of this—because I would save her—I could still lose her anyway. Any woman in her right mind wouldn’t come within ten feet of me after all the shit I’ve been through. Maybe that was why Asa wanted me so bad—because she wasn’t in her right mind.
Speaking of the devil, she stood over by the wall a couple dozen feet from me. She was chatting it up with Pierce Bros-no and Grease-stache like they were old pals. It made me sick. Did she have something to do with this?
She looked over at me and smirked, tossing her hair back over her shoulder dramatically. I gritted my teeth, hand tightening on my pool cue. It nearly broke in half.
She saw my rage and snickered, holding my gaze as she sauntered across the room. The whole world seemed to slow, but not in the romantic way that it does in movies. It was more like my mind was running through every option of how I could tear her apart before she even made it over to me. I could send my pool cue for her head. I could grab a glass from the guy next to me and toss it at her. I could climb over the table and knee her in the face.
So many options. If she had anything to do with Sasha being taken, I would kill her for it.
“Hey you,” she drawled, eyes tracking over my body. She’d stopped a few feet from me, not wanting to get too close to the caged tiger. Smart.
“What.” Flat. Not a question, but still a question. Every ounce of distaste I’d ever held for her was jammed into that one word.
She smiled anyway. “Your little arrangement with The Devils is going to pay for our baby, you know.” She dropped her voice so nobody would overhear. “You better play along if you want to see your girlfriend again.”
I blinked, trying not to let the surprise show on my face. We hadn’t exactly been super covert about our relationship, but I’d expected Asa to be too wrapped up in all this fake baby drama to pay much attention to what we were doing.
“Yes.” She grinned. “I know about you and Doctor Walker. Or, I guess I can’t call her a doctor since she’s not really one.” She shrugged. “Nice girl. Too bad you got her wrapped up in all this. I can’t believe you thought a fake therapist would help you get out of being a father.”
“I can’t believe you thought a fake baby would help get you out of being alone,” I snapped back.
She was visibly startled at my harsh words, but she regained composure quickly. Crossing her arms, Asa furrowed her eyebrows and wrinkled her lip in distaste. “I told you! I’ve had it tested. It’s your baby.”
Tipping my head back, I began to laugh. I needed the release of it, and I already knew her face was going to be priceless when I told her my trump card. I continued laughing, even as I felt her heated glare. Finally, I leveled my gaze with hers. No longer wearing her cocky smirk, Asa was staring at me determinately.
“Asa,” I said. “I can’t be the child’s father, if there is a child, because I had a vasectomy before we even got together.”
I chose not to tell her the reason. That was my own business. I was grateful to my father for raising me, of course, but that was the limit of my gratuity. I didn’t want to bring a child into this dangerous world, full of cutthroat dickheads like Asa and her new friends from Gray's Devils. I didn’t want to have to worry about what kind of life my child would have if I ended up in jail. I hadn’t signed up for this life, and I wouldn’t pass it along.
Asa’s face went bone white. Her eyes seemed to drop open, ready to fall out and roll across the floor. She was still.
“What?”
Her voice was so small that I would have missed it if I hadn’t been watching her mouth for signs of movement. Signs that she was still breathing. This was so far from the reaction I’d expected. I thought she might turn into a rage monster, breathing fire down my neck and demanding my balls on a platter from one of her friends. I thought she might run off to try and harm Sasha, in which case I would follow her of course
But she was quiet.
I think I would have preferred if she’d started screaming at me.
“You’re lying,” she said. There was no more ice or venom in her tone. She was so human that it felt like I’d been cut. I should have been enjoying this part. I should have been fucking relishing it. But I think I was finally seeing the Asa that Sasha saw—the hurt, lonely one. The Asa that was so starved for affection and so cut up from losing her boyfriend that she lashed out at everyone and everything around her.
And then, that fragile creature was gone. “You’re lying!” she wailed. Asa’s eyes turned wild, her hands bunched into tight fists. “You’re a goddamn liar, Zane Pendleton! I’m going to go see your girlfriend right now and tell her just how much of a liar you are!”
She turned on her heel and left. The crowd swallowed her up, and I jumped forward to try to follow her. Strong hands gripped my forearm and wrenched me back. I stumbled, turning to glare at the person who’d grabbed me. Pierce Bros-no. He was quickly becoming my least favorite out of the two of them. Not that either one was particularly gentle.
“Let go of me,” I hissed, pulling my arm back.
He released me, but spat, “You have to play. Remember the stakes.”
His warning did little to still the part of me that wanted to save Sasha. I moved to go around him,
and he thrust his fist up into my gut. Though it knocked the wind out of me, it wasn’t anything I couldn’t recover from. I took a second to breathe, nose wrinkled in rage, and then turned to him. “Touch me again, and I’ll fucking kill you.”
He smirked. “It’s not me touching you that you should be concerned about,” he said. “It’s my friends touching that pretty girlfriend of yours. Play the damn game.”
By this point, people were beginning to stop and stare. I stood at my full height, glaring down at the bastard, but didn’t try to get past him again.
The announcer called out that the next games would be starting in a few minutes, and asked the contestants to resume their stations. I begrudgingly walked to my table. I should have brought more guys with me. But then again, maybe it was a good thing I didn’t have any of my inner circle here. The Devils seemed to be expecting that it was only me they had to contend with. Otherwise, they would have had more than just Bros-no here to hold me back.
I pulled out my phone and sent off a quick text to Niles. Earlier, I installed a tracking app on Sasha’s phone. Even though she might not have it on her, one of the people who had taken her would. I sent a text with her location to Niles and asked him to keep Asa away from Sasha until I could get there.
She was still in the billiards hall at least, though in some back hallway, it looked like. Amateurs. They should have brought her somewhere more secure if they wanted to keep her. Then again, I already knew they were a bunch of fools. If there weren’t, they wouldn’t have threatened me. I did not take well to being threatened.
Then it was time for my next game.
One game. Two games. Three games. Now, my fourth and final game.
It was close. My opponent, a woman around my age with ice blue eyes, was a seasoned pro. It would be quite conceivable for me to lose to her. I doubted anyone would have blamed me for it.
I pictured it in my mind: if I lost now, what would happen? Would The Devils just let Sasha go? Would Asa? It seemed unlikely. If I were going to hedge my bets on this—apparently a theme for the evening—I would say the chance that any of the thugs had the requisite honor to let Sasha go unscathed was slim to none.
The prize loomed before me. Twenty thousand dollars. The whole crowd was silent, on edge, as me and my opponents took their next shots. I knew how much this money would help Sasha’s mother. But could I get to her in time after disobeying the orders of Bros-no and Grease-stache? I couldn’t check his phone, so I didn’t know whether Niles and Grant had made it to Sasha yet.
Everything was up in the air, which was exactly where I didn’t like it to be. If I had my way, Sasha would have never had to go through any of this shit. I would do it all again, but I wasn’t sure she would. I needed to get her away from all this. More like I needed to get myself away from it.
The seconds began to tick by in slow motion. Then, with agonizing slowness, my shot hit home, and I became a whole lot richer.
The crowd went wild, their shouts peppered with the clinking of toasts and whistles of glee. My opponent looked utterly dismayed, but the second prize was still a pretty penny. Anyway, she could take next year’s win. I didn’t intend to be anywhere near this place then.
Only one face in the crowd wasn’t full of mirth. Even those who had been cheering on my competitor still found themselves full of adrenaline after such a tense battle. The release was cause for celebration enough. The feeling was infectious, and I found myself grinning along with the crowd, letting people pat me on the back and otherwise jostle me around. I was light on my feet. Sasha’s mother would be safe. We would get her the treatment, and she would be safe. Healthy. And Sasha would be so happy.
But Pierce Bros-no stared angrily at me through the crowd, his fists clenched tightly at his sides. His face was a brilliant red, like an overripe tomato. I wondered idly if he would pop if he got punched too hard. I almost strode forward to test out this theory, but I knew that would only make it harder for me to get to Sasha. I needed to be smart about this.
Pierce Bros-no mouthed the words to me through the crowd; it was too loud for me to have heard them anyway. We warned you.
I still grinned. They might have warned me, but they didn’t know about the hell I was about to bring down on their necks. I hadn’t warned them about that.
CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE
Sasha
After a few minutes of gun-pointing intimidation, the guy at the door stepped back into the hallway. “I’m going to be right outside,” he warned. “If I hear you move, I’ll come back. And you won't like it.”
I nodded. Message received.
I was just grateful the men hadn’t bound my hands or feet. They didn’t seem to be the most intelligent of people. They’d stuck me in a supply closet just down the hall from a packed event, where my badass boyfriend had undoubtedly noticed I was missing and would come looking for me. Maybe that was the point? Surely even these guys weren’t that dumb. You just didn’t mess around with Zane Pendleton like that. I had never feared him, but I understood why there was reason to. He was a predator, pure and simple. I guess if I had to narrow it down, I’d probably say he was a lion. His pride was his life, and they had just messed with his girl. He might have moments where he was cute and cuddly, like a cat, but the biggest mistake anyone could make was underestimating how dangerous he was.
It both amused and concerned me how much I loved that about him. I didn’t like being a part of a dangerous lifestyle, per se. I certainly didn’t enjoy being locked in a closet because some idiot gang didn’t know whom they were messing with. But I liked knowing how much Zane could make it hurt if and when he needed to. I liked feeling protected.
I shouldn’t have been so attracted to him because of it. It went against every principle I’d been raised with. Bad boys were bad for a reason. Except Zane wasn’t all bad, was he? He was actually very good. He hid it well, but underneath it all, he really was a cuddly and sweet lion. With giant, razor sharp teeth.
I imagined how the scenario was going to play out, no longer scared that I was going to die. If they had wanted to kill me, they would have. And if they were planning on eventually killing me, they’d made a big mistake in not doing it already. The longer it took for them to get their shit together, the more time Zane had to find me. And he would find me. I had no doubt in my mind of that.
For their sakes, I just hoped they were ready to beg for their lives.
I was interrupted, mid-thought, by a loud bang outside the door. At first, I thought it was someone opening the door too quickly, but it was too loud and sudden for that to be the case. A gunshot, I realized. I’d just heard a gunshot.
My heart began to pound. I wasn’t scared for me, but if there were guns in the mix, then I was scared for Zane. I trusted his ability to take down anyone in a hand-to-hand fight, be it fair or heavily weighted in the opponent’s favor. But nobody was bulletproof.
Another bang, this time, accompanied by a shout. Somebody had been hit. Everything sounded so muffled through the door! I had a feeling there was more action going on than it sounded like there was. I resisted the urge to press my ear to the door and instead shuffled back further into the room. It wouldn't do me any good to get a stray bullet in my head as Zane was trying to rescue me. I had a feeling that wouldn’t go over well.
With my back against the cool cement of the back wall, I could feel the shake of each gun discharge through the wall. I wondered if there would be anyone left standing once the dust settled. I worried. Oh God, I was sick with worry. Zane—was he all right? Would he be all right?
Then my thoughts turned to my mother, and the pit of worry in my stomach only deepened. She could be dying right now, and I wouldn’t know because that dickhead Bloody Mustache had taken my phone away from me. These people had no regard for humanity. They only knew greed and hate. I hated them all too. If anything happened to my mom or to Zane while I was stuck here, I was going to end them. They would never see me coming.
The handle on the
door began to rattle, and my heart soared. Surely it was Zane, coming to save me! I could still barely hear the sound of a scuffle outside, but at least the gunshots had ended.
But the figure who walked through the door wasn’t Zane. I knew the moment her long legs stepped in that Asa had become unhinged and was coming to kill me. I knew it before I even saw the switchblade clutched in her fist.
Her eyes were wide and wild, far beyond cognition of anything besides her hatred for me. I didn’t know what had happened to push her here, but it must have been something truly rough.
I immediately shot to my feet. “Asa,” I said in a warning, low tone. I put my hands out in front of me as if I could keep her back. “Asa, talk to me.”
“I’ve done plenty of talking! And all you’ve done is take him from me!” she shrieked, lunging for me.
I parried to the left and slammed against an empty wooden cabinet. A puff of dust erupted from it, causing me to cough. Asa dove for me again, and I ducked out of the way. But not fast enough. The blade caught my arm, tearing through my shirt and slicing the skin just below my shoulder.
Wrecked by the Bad Boy: The Sick MC Page 18
