I wake to darkness.Not the soft kind, not a room with the lights out. This is thick, choking darkness. Like a tarp over my head.
No, it’s a hood.
Panic explodes in my chest so fast I choke on it.
I try to move, but my wrists are tied. Rope, maybe zip ties, digging into my skin. My ankles too. My legs are numb from kneeling too long.
My breath comes fast. Too fast. I can’t see. I can’t breathe. I can’t?—
Calm down,I tell myself.Think.
The surface beneath me is rough concrete. I smell, gasoline, cigarettes and old beer. Maybe motor oil. A garage? A workshop?
A door slams somewhere. Heavy boots approach, more than one set.
My pulse beats loudly in my ears, it’s too fast, like the heartbeat of a trapped bird.
Then a voice, rough, smug, and too close. “Well, well. Sleeping Beauty’s awake.”
The hood is yanked off and light blinds me. It’s the harsh fluorescent kind that makes everything look sickly and cold. I squint, blinking until shapes form.
I’m kneeling in the middle of a large garage. Broken motorcycles line the walls, and mechanical parts litter the floor. Two oil drums sit in the corner, one dented. A pool table is shoved to the side. Graffiti tags cover concrete pillars.
A man kneels in front of me. He’s got a shaved head and neck tattoos. His leather vest is the same as the man in the limo wore. “Morning, sweetheart,” he says, like we’re lovers waking up together. “You must be Liza.”
Three men watching from the edges of the room chuckle.
I swallow against the terror clawing up my throat. “What do you want?” My voice cracks. “Please just…just tell me what you want.”
He smiles, revealing yellow teeth. “What we want,” he says, “is payback. A little bird told us you put a knife in one of our own.”
My stomach drops. “It was an accident,” I stutter. “He attacked me.”
The biker slaps me across the face so hard my head snaps sideways. Pain bursts along my cheekbone. Tears spring to my eyes, hot and immediate.
“You don’t get to explain.” He grabs my jaw, squeezing until my teeth grind together. “You took one of ours. Now we decide what happens to you.”
My whole body trembles. “Please,” I whisper. “I didn’t want to kill him.”
“Don’t care.” He releases my jaw with a shove.
The other men laugh.
I shut my eyes, just for a second, because the panic is turning into something too big, too sharp. It’s swallowing me alive.
My father’s face flashes in my mind. Him standing outside that limo. Not lifting a finger.
Just watching.
My breath comes in a ragged gasp, but then something in me flips.
Not calmer. Not stronger. Just colder. A coldness I’ve never felt before.
“He sold me out,” I whisper, the words breaking apart as they leave my mouth.
The leader tilts his head. “What was that?”
“My father,” I say, louder this time, the truth slicing me open. “He sold me to you.”
