Page 22 of Lucian

Run, something whispered inside.

Sure. Jordyn could try to run, but how long would that last? Other girls had tried before. Some lasted only months, others years. Eventually, though, it came to an end. Someone who knew someone who knew someone else might have caught sight of the girl, even if it was states away. The club tracked them down every damn time.

It was always worse when they had to come and find you.

Jordyn shuddered at the thought, never mind the memories.

Once a girl was caught, she could expect punishment for her actions. No one was to run. The club was for life.

Punishment usually involved violence and public shaming. It was always done in front of the entire club, the women of the men included. She’d seen girls beat within an inch of their life, then once they were bloodied and bruised, they were just used by the men they ran from.

Jordyn wouldn’t give them that.

The best hope a girl could have being nothing more than property of the club was to become too old or worn for the guys. A female they didn’t want because she’d already been had a dozen times over. Usually those girls were so screwed up on drugs they didn’t even care what happened to them at that point. Once that happened, she was eventually forgotten.

The damage, however, was already done.

Unfortunately, Jordyn was a shiny new toy. Some of the MC members had been looking at her for years. Their very open comments were more than enough of an indication of what they’d like to do to her if ever given the chance.

Jordyn felt sick.

At least her excuse for work wasn’t a complete lie.

The ringing of Jordyn’s cell phone jerked her back into reality. She fumbled to reach for the device and answer it before it went to voicemail.

“Hello?”

“Jord?”

Jordyn’s brow furrowed at the female voice, but knew exactly who it was. A stripper at Legs who went by Ruby because of her flaming red hair. She also happened to be an old lady for one of the MC members, and stripped because she enjoyed dancing. Why she was calling Jordyn’s phone was a mystery.

“Ruby, hey. Does Ron have you calling to check up on me, or what?”

The girl tried to laugh, but the sound was awkward and filled with tension. “Jord, listen. Uh, this is kind of important, okay. I was at the club with Donnie, just to pick up some stuff. Will was there, and he’s not happy. Really, really not happy, Jord. So, um, he’s coming to you.”

Jordyn froze. “What?”

“He’s coming to see you with a couple of guys,” Ruby said quickly. “And I’m sorry, but I have to go. Donnie told me not to call and he’d kick my ass if he knew. I gotta go.”

“Wait!” Jordyn shouted into the phone, practically leaping off the couch. “What time was he coming?”

“Like, now? Or he was, ten minutes ago. I’m already gone and they were getting ready. I’m sorry, but I really have to go.”

The phone call cut off as Ruby hung up. Frantically, Jordyn glanced around her apartment wondering if there was something she could do to save herself from what was about to happen. Her apartment was only a twenty minute walk from the club and maybe ten minutes driving. That didn’t afford her a whole lot of time.

She briefly thought of the revolver that had once been her mother’s hidden in her bedroom closet, but knew it wouldn’t do much good. Jesus, she hadn’t even cleaned the thing in years because she didn’t know how and never felt a need to use it. Ruby had specified more than one man was coming. All of them carried their own weapons.

If anything, waving a gun would only piss them off more.

It didn’t matter.

Outside of her shitty apartment building equipped with locks on the main entrances that didn’t even work, Jordyn could hear the unmistakable rumble of motorcycles. At least four. Panic welled like a poison, but she was frozen in place. Vomit threatened to rise from her stomach, but she forced it back.

There was absolutely nothing she could do. Call the police, she’d risk having more retribution later on. Run, they’d no doubt catch her before she even got outside of the building.

Scream, and it would only be a hell of a lot worse.

What she could do, however, was control herself. Jordyn swallowed back her fear, sat down on the couch once more, and turned on her television to a music channel. At least the noise would muffle some of the yelling and whatever else. No need to scare the rest of the people on her floor, not that it would help.