I barely have a second to fight back before the material is pulled back over my face and the hands finally get hold of me. I try screaming again as my body is pulled out of the Audi, fighting against the men who hold me off the ground.
I hear the distinct sound of a van door sliding open. Immediately, I’m thrown into the back of the vehicle, my ribs slamming against the hard metal floor as my back crashes against the side.
The door slams shut with a loud thump, and two seconds later, someone comes in after me. My hands are bound behind my back, and my whole body is thrown off balance when the van takes off, screeching through the streets of Bellevue Springs.
Chapter 32
Disorientation swirls through me as a rusty smell fills the cold room. I think it’s large, like some kind of warehouse. Judging by the way each footstep that comes toward me seems to bounce off every wall, it seems so much worse. My guess is that this place is empty, which means that it serves for one purpose and one purpose only.
Torture.
And I just became Nic’s newest victim.
I don’t need to see his face to know that this is Nic. He’d never let any of his men touch me. You know, apart from dragging me off the street and stuffing me into a van for two hours.
I can sense him, the sound of his footsteps as he transfers his weight from one foot to the other, the gruff sound of his leather jacket as his arms swing past his body, and that smell. It’s the smell of my teen years, the smell of home. That familiar smell was once a comfort to me. It told me that Nic was near and that everything was going to be okay. Now, it means something much, much worse, something sinister and devastating.
I try to prepare myself. The echoes bouncing off each wall are making it impossible to pinpoint just how far away he is, which makes any form of preparation useless. What am I going to do? Wait until he rips this thing off my head and then run? Where? I have no idea where the door is, and my hands are still bound behind my back, probably somehow tied to this stiff, wooden chair.
I’m screwed. I just have to hope that Nic won’t take it too far. Maybe he’s just trying to scare me or use me as bait to lure in the Wolves.
Either way, I’m fucked.
With every step he takes, my heart breaks just a little bit more. How did it come down to this?
I feel that same flutter in my stomach, and I find myself holding my breath. Why does the little rape reminder have to come up and give me all sorts of feels right now? There’s no time for this. Though one thing is for sure, now that I can feel it, it seems so much more real, and with that comes a whole new level of momma bear protective bullshit. I don’t know if I want to keep this baby, but I sure know that nobody is about to hurt it, and if they do, they’ll be more than fucked.
The footsteps grow closer, and when I feel a soft breeze brush over my skin, I know that I’m out of time. Nic walks around me, not saying a damn word and only making this so much worse.
My hands clench into fists, and I tug against my binds, a loud grunt of frustration pulling from deep within me. I spent two hours in that damn van with my ribs aching, and who the hell knows how many hours I’ve spent in this ridiculous chair. My ass is aching, my stomach growling, and I need to fucking pee. I’m not the bitch anyone wants to be dealing with right now.
I squirm in my chair, desperately pulling and trying to free myself despite knowing damn well that I’m not going anywhere. This isn’t Nic’s first rodeo. He knows every last trick in the book by now and being my first time in this situation, I'm sure that dealing with me will be as easy as taking candy from a baby. You know, one of those babies that don’t know any better, not the ones who hold onto shit for dear life.
Despite having Nic at my back, I sense him lean into me, although he doesn’t touch an inch of my skin. Call it female intuition, or maybe I just know Nic well enough to know what he’s going to do before even he knows. Let’s hope it’s the second option. At least that way, I might have the slightest hope of getting out of here.
“Stop fighting it,” Nic murmurs, his breath rushing past my ear, his voice low and deadly. “You’re not going anywhere.”
“Give it up, Nic,” I growl, slamming my head back and cracking him in the face, getting the slightest satisfaction out of his grunt of pain. “This shit isn’t funny. Untie me and let me walk out of here. Otherwise, you’re going to have every single Wolf on your doorstep, tearing this place to shreds.”
“I highly doubt that,” Nic laughs, though I hear the pain in his voice. “Is this how you want to play this?” he questions. “You’re down for petty threats and pain because baby, you know damn well that I’d love to play along.”
“I’m not your baby,” I snap, always hating how he’s never been able to stop calling me that, even now. “Take this fucking bag off my head. If you’re going to try and hurt me, then at least have the balls to do it while looking into my eyes.”
“You don’t think I will?” he questions, his hand dropping to the top of my head and peeling the bag off.
I blink into the room as I adjust to the brightness, but in reality, it’s not actually that bright. The room is dark except for one low hanging light bulb gently swinging above my head. Nic moves around me and steps right in front of my face, letting me see him. “Really?” I laugh. “You want to use the light bulb bullshit to try and intimidate me? You think that this is going to work because you know everything about me, but maybe you’ve forgotten that the door swings both ways. I know all your dirty little tricks, Nic. It’s not going to work.”
A brilliant smile stretches over his face, pulling at his dimples and taking me back to the good old days. I haven’t seen that smile in months, and I’m only now just realizing how much I missed it. “Do you honestly think I’ve brought you here to hurt you?”
I raise a brow, pointedly tugging on my bound hands. As the light bulb gently swings, it sends shadows soaring across his face, quickly flickering and drawing attention to the bloodstains on the concrete floor. I try not to think about all the things that have gone down in this exact spot. Slowly, I raise my gaze back to Nic’s. “You’re kidding yourself, right?”
He shrugs his shoulders and walks back into me before pulling out a small pocket knife. The shiny blade glistens in the swinging light, and as he creeps closer, I wonder just how far he’ll go. He leans down over me, placing his hands on either side of the wooden chair, looking right into my eyes. “You’ve been crying,” he tells me, the blade way too close to my skin for liking. Yet for some fucked up reason, I still find myself completely trusting him.
“So what if I have?”
A growl rumbles through the back of his throat, and I can’t help but breathe him in, still wondering if the old Nic still exists in there. “Why?”
I scoff. “Like you care.”
His eyes glisten with a deep, genuine concern that tears at every piece of my soul. “Try me.”
I keep my glare locked on his. “Really?” I say with a laugh, trying to shrug off my emotions, knowing all too well how they keep coming up and betraying me at all the wrong times. “You don’t talk to me for weeks, you show up at my mother’s wedding, and then come storming into my school making demands, and you chose this exact moment to catch up on the ins and outs of my life. Are you crazy?”
“Answer the damn question, Ocean. Why were you crying?”
I roll my eyes. Why am I giving in to what he wants? “If you must know,” I say with a frustrated huff. “Just before your dickhead Widows decided to drag me out of my car, I’d just received the paternity results.”
His brow arches and for just the briefest moment, all signs of intimidation fade away. “And?” he questions, appearing to actually care.
“What do you think?” I snap. “I’m not going to be sitting in my car sobbing like a fucking baby if it was Colton’s.”
Nic lets out a heavy breath and leans even closer, dropping his forehead to mine. “Fuck,” he grumbles. “I’m sorry, O. What are you going to do?�
��
I pull back, not liking his closeness, not in the way that I used to. “I’m going to get the fuck out of here, that’s what I’m going to do.”
As if remembering where he is, Nic stiffens and pulls back from me. “I’m sorry, baby, but you’re not going anywhere.”
He walks around me again with the knife still in his hands. Nerves begin to flutter through me as I lose sight of him at my back. I feel as he steps into me and presses the very tip of the knife against my shoulder. He slowly trails it down my arms, not pressing hard enough to cut my skin, but just enough that I’m more than aware of what he’s doing.
The knife travels right down to my wrist, and then in one lean slice, my wrists are freed, and I throw myself out of the shitty wooden seat, instantly launching for the door.
I run at full speed, racing for an exit. When he doesn’t come after me, suspicion pulses through me, only I’m not stupid enough to hang around and figure out why. I don’t know where I am, but I’m assuming Kai, Sebastian, or Eli would be close. All I have to do is find someone with a phone and I’ll be alright.
I finally find a door handle, and as I reach for it, a loud BANG startles me just as a perfectly round bullet sails past my face and sinks into the metal door. My eyes go wide as I suck in a breath, coming to an immediate standstill as shock rumbles through me.
I turn, my eyes instantly zoning in on Nic as he stands under the flicking light. I should be trying to get through this stupid door, yet I find myself moving back toward him, not afraid of the gun that’s still pointed my way. “Tell me that you didn’t just shoot at me?” I demand, my strides large as I race back at him. I storm right into him, shoving the gun away and slamming my hands against his chest. “What the fuck, Dominic?”
“I told you,” he says, not looking the least bit sorry, after all, we both know his aim in near perfect. If he wanted to actually hit me, he would have. “You’re not going anywhere.”
“The hell I am,” I demand. “How many times do I have to tell you? I’m not yours anymore. You can’t order me around, and you sure as hell can’t hold me against my will. I’m the leader of the fucking Wolves now. This isn’t just some high school, possessive ex-boyfriend shit anymore. You’re playing games that you don’t want to get your men involved in. So yeah, I’m fucking leaving and if you want to stop me, then you better not miss this time.”
Nic laughs. “In case you have noticed, this isn’t a negotiation. This is a hostage situation, and unless you’d actually like to test my aim, then I suggest you sit your sweet ass back down.”
I step back into him, refusing to let his gun and attitude defeat me. “Where are the boys?” I ask. “Do they know you have me locked up in some shitty warehouse, waving your fucking gun around like a psychopath?”
“They know exactly where you are, and you know what, they fucking approved of my plan.”
I scoff, dropping into an exaggerated curtsey. “Congratulations. That’s some first place bullshit if I ever heard any. How would you like your trophy engraved? World’s biggest douchebag or just straight up liar?”
“Sarcasm?” he grunts. “That’s the way you’re going to deal with this?”
“Then tell me oh wise one, I skipped out on ‘how to escape psychotic kidnappers 101’ last week. Whoops. How do you suggest I should be dealing with this?”
“How about sitting your stubborn ass down, so you don’t end up getting yourself hurt.”
“We’ve been over this, Nic,” I say, grabbing his hand that holds his gun and pressing it right against my temple, watching as his eyes narrow, unsure of how I’m about to play this. “You wouldn’t do it. You can’t hurt me. You’re all talk and no game. And despite how much you wish you could, you’d never even try. I'm too important to you, and it’s killing you that I'm standing with the Wolves and not with you. You hate that you love me, but no matter what, you can’t stop. To hurt me would be to hurt you too, and we both know that you’re too selfish to do that.”
“You’re wrong,” he tells me, pulling the gun away and turning it on himself. He raises it to his temple, keeping my hand firmly in his grasp. I suck in a terrified breath. “I’d hurt myself every fucking day of the week if it meant keeping that goddamn fucking smile on your face.”
His hand doesn’t shake, as steady as the baddest motherfucker in town. “Don’t you dare,” I tell him through clenched teeth. “I’ll never forgive you.”
“Take it then.”
Without hesitation, I tear his hand off the gun, keeping it tight on my own, yet I find myself unable to lower it. I mean, I am in a hostage situation after all. “Where are the boys?”
A grin pulls at his lips, and for a moment, I truly fear the darkness in his eyes. “They're busy.”
“Call them. I’m getting out of here.”
He laughs, not bothered by the gun I still hold at his head, knowing I wouldn’t pull the trigger just as much as he wouldn’t. “I told you, they’re not coming. They’re more than happy for me to keep you away.”
My brows dip. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”
“What do you think it means, baby?” he questions. “We’ve been over this. There’s not a goddamn thing I wouldn’t do to keep you safe.”
“Safe? Safe from what?” I ask, panic beginning to rise within me. I step into him, really pressing the gun against his head in the same way he’d done to me. “What did you do?”
His smirk is terrifying, and for a brief second, I see the real him, the one that he usually tries to keep concealed. “Nothing, just dealt with a little wild dog issue that I’ve been having.”
Terror settles into my chest, and I clench my jaw, my breath coming in sharp, jagged gasps. “What. Did. You. Do?”
Nic leans into me and lowers his voice to a whisper. “Shhhh,” he says, holding his hand to his ear as if trying to listen carefully. “If you’re really quiet, you might be able to hear them scream as they burn to ashes.”
Fuck no. My eyes bug out of my head, and I turn for the door, only Nic instantly blocks my path with a wicked grin stretching across his face. “Move,” I shout, desperate to get to Blaxlands Grove and make sure it’s not true. “I swear, Nic. If any of my guys are hurt …”
“You’ll do what?” he laughs. “Come on, baby. You’re way out of your league here. You can’t handle this shit, so I handled it for you. No more Wolves, no more fucking problems.”
I shake my head. “You’re fucking sick.”
“And you’re fucking stubborn,” he shoots back. “Just go and sit your ass down, and it’ll all be over soon. I’m not about to let you go running in there to save the asses of douchebags who don’t deserve you.”
As if remembering the gun in my hand, I raise it back to his head, this time aiming right between his eyes, my hand steady as fuck. “Move.”
“Do it,” he says, almost daring me. “If anyone around here has got the fucking guts to do it, it’s you, baby girl.”
I clench my jaw, feeling as though I’m about to be sick, but what choice do I have? Either take him down or let over a hundred of my men burn. There is no fucking choice. One life to save a hundred others. It’s simple math.
BANG.
Nic’s eyes go wide as though he can’t believe that I pulled the trigger, and not a second later, his body collapses heavily to the ground. Tears instantly well in my eyes, and I race into him as he stares up at me in shock.
I drop to my knees beside him as blood pours from his thigh and instantly pull the bandana from his head. “I’m sorry,” I cry, my hands shaking as I fumble, trying to wrap it around his leg then pulling it tight like a tourniquet to stop the bleeding. “I can’t let you do this.”
He grabs hold of my arm. “Don’t do this, Ocean. Don’t go.”
“I have to. I can’t let you senselessly kill all these people. Why can’t you see that I’ve been trying to save you?” I cry, desperately wishing for the old Nic as he groans in pain beneath my hands. “All of this is changin
g you. You’re becoming someone that I don’t even recognize anymore. I want the old Nic back, the one who would be sick at the thought of ending another’s life. Let me save your soul. Why do you think I went to the Wolves in the first place? I needed to stop you, not hurt you. You need help.”
Nic shakes his head. “My soul can’t be saved, Ocean. It died a long time ago. Worry about saving yourself. No one can help me now.”
“I can’t do that,” I tell him, pulling tight on the bandana and making him groan in agony. I reach into his pocket and find his phone and car keys before jamming them into my pockets. I know damn well that he’s going to try and call someone to get me, but he’s also going to need an ambulance.
I lean forward and press my lips to his forehead. “Please forgive me, Nic. I never meant to hurt you, but you murdered my father, and I’ll never move past that. I hate you so damn much, but a part of my heart will always be yours. Which is why I need you to stop this. Step down from the Widows. Be a good man again, be the man I know you can be.”
“Ocean,” he snaps, desperately trying to cling onto me as I pull away. “Don’t… you’ll get hurt. It’s too fucking dangerous.”
I get to my feet and race to the door, tucking his gun in the back of my jeans. I look back at him, helplessly bleeding out on the ground. “I’m sorry,” I tell him again. “I’ll call you an ambulance as soon as I get out of Breakers Flats.”
With that, I throw myself out of the door and race toward Blaxlands Grove with fear pulsing through my veins and tears staining my cheeks, hoping to God that this isn’t true.
Chapter 33
I race down the street in the same car I learned to drive in, way too familiar with all the little ins and outs to need to concentrate on what I'm doing. I throw Nic’s phone down at the floor space on the passenger side of his car after calling an ambulance and letting Colton know exactly what’s been going on.
Ride or Die: A Dark High School Bully Romance (Rejects Paradise Book 4) Page 30
