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CHAPTER THIRTY SIX

Skylar began to come around. Her mind still fuzzy from whatever drug she’d been given, she had a hard time focusing. She tried to lift her arm to rub her face and stiff neck, but she couldn’t move. She writhed and yanked, only to realize her arms were pulled behind her and zip-tied to the metal chair she found herself sitting in.

Panic flooded her system, and the adrenaline boost helped to clear her mind. And then it all came flooding back.

The Devil Kings had her.

She looked around her. An empty room, except for the chair that appeared to be bolted into the cement floor. What looked like old dried blood stained the floor beneath it and appeared to be splattered around the walls.

Oh, God. What was this place? Some kind of torture room or interrogation room where they beat whatever they wanted out of someone? A house of horrors couldn’t be more terrifying.

She began to whimper, knowing there was no way out. No escaping for her. She was totally at their mercy. She wasn’t even sure where she was. She’d never been to Rusty’s clubhouse, but then, she wasn’t even sure if this was it. She could be in some abandoned warehouse for all she knew.

The door opened, and one of Rusty’s brothers walked in, closing the door behind him. Reno was his name, she remembered. He wasn’t the kind of man that was easy to forget. He was a big man, six three at least and muscled. But it wasn’t just his size that made him stand out, it was also his demeanor. He took badass to a whole different level and to Skylar, he had always been one of the scarier members.

Although he’d been at the nightclub on the night of her birthday, he’d hadn’t come to the table. Instead, he’d stayed off to himself at the end of the

bar. But she’d seen his eyes watching her that night. Almost as if, even then, he hadn’t trusted her.

He never laughed. Hell, she’d never seen him so much as crack a smile. And it would have been a beautiful smile, too, because aside from the fact he was a terrifyingly scary dude, he was also very good looking in a rugged way. He had dark hair that hung past his jaw and brows that slashed low, giving him a stern look. But it was his piercing light eyes that caught one’s attention. They practically burned a hole in you when he turned them on you.

He had a bottle of water in his hand, and he unscrewed the cap as he approached her. Then, without a word, he fisted a handful of her hair and pulled her head back. The bottle was pressed to her dry lips and he tilted it up, pouring it down her throat. She gulped, trying to keep up with the flow of water streaming from the upturned bottle, but she soon couldn’t. As she began to choke, his grip relaxed, and she managed to twist her head to the side. Ice cold water spilled down her chin and over her chest before he let her go and pulled the bottle away.

She sucked in a lungful of air, gasping and coughing.

Reno stepped back and looked down at her while he nonchalantly screwed the cap back on the bottle like he hadn’t just tried to drown her.

She glared up at him.

He took a step toward her again, threatening, “You still thirsty, I got more.”

She took the comment for what it was, a veiled threat. He’d seen the way she’d glared at him, and he didn’t like it.

Skylar dropped her eyes, ready to play the obedient, submissive prisoner. She didn’t want to make this any worse for herself than it already was.

“No. Thank you for the water.” She tried to say the soft words with sincerity. Glancing up at him, she saw that his eyes had dropped to her chest. She looked down at herself. Oh, God. With the water all down her front, she was practically a contestant in a wet T-shirt contest. And with her arms manacled behind her, she could do nothing to cover herself from his lustful gaze. She looked at his face. “You meant to do that, didn’t you?”

His eyes lifted to hers, and he smiled. The first smile she’d ever seen from him. It revealed even white teeth. But it wasn’t a pleasant smile. It was a scary smile.

“You ready to talk? The drug wear off enough?”

She nodded her head. “Yes.”

“You better tell Rat what he wants to hear, you don’t, it’s gonna go bad for you,” he warned.

“I can only tell the truth.”

“Truth better include where our damn money is.”

She watched as he moved to the door, opened it and yelled for someone to get Rat and let him know she was awake.

A few minutes later, Rat stalked in.

Reno moved to lean against the wall, his arms folded across his broad chest, obviously turning over the reins to his VP, who moved to stand over her.

She looked up at him. He was almost as terrifying as Reno. His face was just as hard and spoke of years of callous violence and disregard for anything that threatened his club. But where Reno was probably only in his thirties, this man was much older. Fifties if she had to guess.

His long scraggly hair was solid gray, as was his scruffy beard. He wore glasses on his long thin nose and when he smiled down at her with his evil smile, his teeth were yellow with age.

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