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“Everyone is gathered inside, Mr. Mackenzie.”
Angel gave a crisp nod. “No one disturbs us.”
“Understood.”
The grip around my hand tightened as we entered a long hall. Doors were shut on either side as we walked the length of it, but I could hear the sounds of slapping flesh, moans, and cries of pleasure.
But there was one room where a woman pleaded for someone to stop. I jolted when I heard a slap followed by a whimper.
Angel’s low laugh followed as he led me to the door at the end, twisted the knob, and led me inside.
I didn’t know what I expected, but it wasn’t this. Cold fear sent a blast of ice down my spine, and I stiffened.He’s really going to sell me.
Angel dragged me across the empty room, shoving me to an old couch. I nearly tripped over my feet as I fell onto the seat.
“Sit. I’ll return for you when we’re ready.”
He left me, exiting through the only other door in the room. Outside the one we entered, I heard a thud. Something scraped against it, and I knew Angel had ordered one of the bikers to stop me if I tried to leave.
The room was tiny. Only a worn red couch, a table with an ashtray, a crooked mirror, and a rack of outfits that included lace, latex, tiny skirts and tops, and lingerie filled the space.
There were no windows. No way to escape.
I launched to my feet and opened my purse, reaching into the interior for my phone. They didn’t search me or take my bag, which seemed amateur, but I was glad about it. I had no idea when Angel would return, but I needed to call for help. I should have dialed 9-1-1 first, but I didn’t. All I could think about was Slash. He was a biker. His club had to know about the Bladed Serpents MC. What would the cops be able to do if those bikers started shooting up the place? Could they keep me safe? Rescue me from ruthless traffickers like Angel? I didn’t know.
It was too risky.
I had never been so thankful in my life for anything as I was at this moment for Embry giving me Slash’s number. With shaky fingers, I slid open my phone and tapped on his name. The call dialed as I held it next to my ear.
My heart hammered so hard in my chest that I fought to inhale and exhale, my chest rising and falling much too quickly. My vision grew black around the edges as I slumped to the seat of the couch. No answer. A voicemail popped up, and I decided to leave a message. There was no way to know if he would reach it in time.
“Slash, it’s Molly.” I swallowed as my voice cracked. “I’m in trouble, and I need your help.”
I heard voices in the hall and worried someone was about to enter the room.
“I don’t know what to do. Some guy named Angel Mackenzie brought me to After Hours. I’m in the back. He’s locked me in a room, and there are bikers here. I saw a sword and a snake on their backs. I—I think,” I stuttered, “I think Angel wants to —”—my voice faltered—“—sellme.”
Tears clogged my throat, and I couldn’t continue. I had to suck air into my lungs and wait a few precious seconds before I could speak again.
“Fred let them take me. I don’t know why. Please,” I begged, “Help me.”
The doorknob rattled while I ended the call and backed away as the door swung open. Heavy boots thumped across the floor as the biker—who stood guard before we entered the hall with dark, greasy hair and a long beard—entered.
I scrambled away from him, still clutching my phone in my hand.
The biker roared as he snatched my wrist and hauled me against his chest. I smacked into his body as he lifted a hand and cracked his palm across my cheek. I cried out and tried to twist out of his grasp as my head pounded and my face stung from the pain.
“Who did you call, bitch?” He grabbed my shoulders and shook me. “Fucking answer me!”
“I tried 9-1-1, but it wouldn’t go through,” I lied. “I think the connection is bad in here.”
Angel stormed inside and snatched the phone, tossing it onto the floor before he stomped on it. Nothing happened.
The biker smirked and lifted his boot, crunching it underneath the sole as the device shattered into numerous pieces.
Angel grabbed me by the throat and slammed me into the nearest wall. His thumb pressed hard on my windpipe as I flailed. Stars exploded into my vision as my airway was cut off, and I couldn’t breathe. No air entered my lungs or left them. I panicked as my fingers clawed at his wrist.
Help!
