When I walk to the back, I hear a faint fizzing, and look down, and there is a bottle of champagne on the floor, chugging out champagne on the floor. Three glasses are on the floor, broken. “What the fuck?”
I step over the mess and head closer to the back, where the back door keeps banging open and closed. Something is wrong. I push through the door and see a black van with the doors open. My mind can’t process that Jacinda’s body is being loaded inside. “Hey!” I start to run toward them, but a large arm wraps around my throat. I kick and scratch, fighting the heavy arm digging into my throat. It’s cutting off my circulation. I kick backward with my heel, connecting with his shin, and he grunts, loosening his arm. I’m able to get free for a second, but he manages to catch me again. He curses. “Fucking whore! Don’t kick me again, or I’ll stick the needle in your damn neck.” I freeze thinking about his threat. I feel the prick on my neck. I have no idea what’s in the needle. I rev up my need to get free, I crane my neck away, and it works. I hear the needle clatter on the ground, and his muttered curse is rough in my ear. “Bitch!”
Then my head explodes in pain, and everything disappears.
Chapter 67
We haven’t heard from the Mestizos since the break-in at Camryn’s art gallery three days ago. Seventy-two hours of silence makes me itchy. There were no shipments. There are no reports of any movement beyond their territory in the boroughs of New York. The break-in and hit on the club are making me twitch.
I told Riggs he could head back to the clubhouse to help with the repairs that we’ve done. Hadrian showed up in a rage that his club had been hit, but it didn’t sit well with either of us, who hadn’t been there during the attack. It felt suspicious that he was conveniently away. I left Riggs to deal with him. Onyx was also on his way from the temporary clubhouse. Riggs had already left and was right behind me. It had taken three to organize the funerals for all the men. But we had enough funds to pay off the medical examiner and get the two men ready for burial. They were older men with no family save the club.
Now I can focus on ensuring Camryn’s safety. I checked in with Scout, and Camryn hasn’t left her friend’s high-rise apartment today. The only movement was when she walked out of the apartment, picked up coffee, and headed back inside.
I pull into the parking lot, noticing a very interesting late-80s Trans Am. Its black, tinted windows are covered in graffiti. The hairs on my arms raise. It could be the Mestizos, but they are not this bold. They are more like rats, attacking under the cover of nighttime. It is probably an artist for the showing she planned for the woman I saw on her video feed weeks ago. Her opening is tonight, and as much as she hates my guts. I’m going to be here. It’s an open event. God knows who will show up. I’m keeping an eye on her whether she likes it or not. Riggs and Onyx will all be here as well. The more fucking eyes the better.
A car pulls up next to my bike, and out steps the same man who tried to ask Camryn out. Skater boy. My hackles raise seeing him.
“You’re, Stone, right?”
I tilt my chin.
“You’re with Camryn right?”
She’s mine, I say in my mind, but don’t answer him.
“I was just wondering if you’ve seen her? My sister picked her up this morning. That’s her van,” he points out, and the sick feeling in my stomach gets stronger.
“What do you mean ‘picked’ her up?” I bark.
He rears back, not expecting my burst of anger. “She went to see Camryn this morning at her friend’s house. They took my sister’s van to help transport the rest of her art, but that was hours ago, and I’ve been calling her phone, and the front door to the gallery is locked. I’ve called Camryn, but her phone is off as well.”
I head to the door. It’s locked, but the men I hired had her code copied and sent to me. I type it in, and the door beeps, opening. I walk inside and see nothing out of place. The front desk is empty, and I spot Camryn’s bag. It’s not the one she usually wears. Smart girl. She didn’t want me knowing where she was. Her car is also back at the high-rise, which is why Scoutdidn’t realize she left. Her phone is also there. Two more purses are also on the counter. They must belong to her friend. The third one is a mystery. Fuck. I run through the open space until I get to the stairs that lead up to her apartment. I open the door with my key. I knew she hadn’t been there since that night, but I wanted to check anyway.
It’s empty too, with the stale air. She hasn’t been here either.
I head back downstairs to see the man, Julian, holding one of the phones and a purse. “Something is wrong. Jacinda would never leave her phone or her purse. She’s diabetic.”
Walking through the gallery, I head to the back area, and the smell of liquor hits me first. I look down and see the green bottle and the puddle of champagne, but that’s not what makes my blood run cold. A note is attached to the inside of the door.
“She’s ours now. And we’ll take the other two as a bonus.”
There is a bloody shape on the paper at the bottom. Circular. I recognize it well. Los Mestizos. The blood is still fresh. I feel sick because I have a feeling it’s hers.
Chapter 68
Waking up groggy, my head aches. The gag around my mouth is tight, deeply embedded in my jaw to the point where my cheek muscles ache. It reeks of some chemical, and the smell is making me nauseous. My eyes open and scan the inside. It’s still daylight. The van has tinted windows, but I can see the fluffy clouds as the van moves.
A sound next to me makes me tilt my tender head to the side. Jacinda is on her side. She looks dead, and I panic, moaning, trying to speak around the gag. Kamilah is next to her, and she shifts, moving her legs. Oh God, please don’t let me be hurt. I scoot closer and make more noise in the hopes of waking Jacinda and alerting Kami.
My legs are tied as well, and I manipulate my body so I can stretch them toward my friends. I nudge Jacinda few times, but there is still no luck. I keep making an effort to talk around my gag. My tongue is dry, and I’m not sure it’s working, but finally, Jacinda comes to, groaning and rolling a little. Her eyes open, and when she sees me, she starts screaming around her gag. Horror fills her eyes. Behind her, I sense when Kami realizes.She starts making the same noises that Jacinda made, terrified garbles that are painful to hear.
After a while, we were all quiet, unable to communicate anything, except to huddle closer to each other. I can’t imagine what they’re thinking. It’s probably the same thoughts I have. Where are we? What the hell happened, and what will happen?
Suddenly, the van slows, coming to a complete stop. I can feel Kami’s trembling through Jacinda.
The door opens, and we shrink together, not wanting to face what’s behind the door.
Two men appear. Their faces are covered in black ski masks with the eyes and mouth open. The climb inside. One comes over to me, and I wonder if it’s the same man who took me, but his arms are covered. The man who knocked me out had a large geometric tattoo on his forearm. This one is smaller. The other man stoops near Kami. He lifts some of her braids and fondles them before he gropes one of her breasts. I yell stop behind the dirty cloth in my mouth, but he smiles, showing rotting brown teeth. She bucks his hand away, screaming behind her gag. Jacinda rolls her way and aims her feet at him, connecting with his leg. He snarls and backhands Jacinda; she cries out, but stops kicking him. Then he says something to the man leaning over me, who laughs and stares down at me. He leans even closer, looking me over, surveying me, and my fear kicks up. The words Kami said to us earlier barrel through my brain. Kami’s quiet sobs and Jacinda’s heavy breathing add to my fear. For me, for us. He touches my face with one finger. I flinch before turning my face away toward Jacinda, removing his touch. “I see why you are his. You are very beautiful. It’s a shame that we won’t get to enjoy what’s his.” His words send a chill down my spine.
