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Feelings beyond that. Feelings I could never understand.
Why me?
What did I do?
When he finally left my room, all I could do was lay there and hope that death would come take me away. Because I knew that the same thing would happen the next night. And the night after that. And so on. It would continue until I either escaped or died.
I was hoping for the latter.
I woke in a cold sweat. My thoughts were scrambled. Where was I? I looked around the room, nothing recognizable. It was dark but nothing looking familiar.
Where was Trigger?
He usually slept on the end of my bed with me. Sometimes beside me. It depended on how we were both feeling and if the nightmares had consumed us or not.
I sat up, looking around the room when I finally realized that I was no longer in my apartment. Events from the past week came rushing back. Even though I had slept a few nights in this place already, I still wasn’t used to it. I was in a stranger’s home and it would probably feel like that until I could find a place of my own once again.
Lifting my hands, I watched them tremble. They had never been steady. Not since before the nightmares of my childhood had happened but I just never let anyone see them shake. I had learned over the years how to control the anxiety rushing through me and eventually, how to fight back. I had never been as big as the others in my crew. But having a quick mind and being a tad twisted, had people doing things for me without me having to throw my weight around.
My blood pumped through me but a part of me wished it wouldn’t.
I couldn’t sit there and feel sorry for myself. I knew that. I didn’t have time for it. Already a week had passed, and I was no closer to getting the answers I was looking for. I was waiting for Greyson to come break the door down and demand something that I couldn’t give him or else he would throw me out. It made me wonder why he hadn’t done that already. He could have killed me. There had been many chances for him to do so or to have one of his prospects do the dirty work. Every time I laid in bed at night, I feared it would be my end. The last of me before I could find out why my club was taken over, why Sunny was killed, and why my dog was a part of it.
But it wasn’t like anyone had come visit me. Someone left food outside the door. Maybe they were slowly poisoning me. I felt fine besides my shoulder still throbbing on occasion. They would knock and rush away before I could thank them for the meal. I ended up waiting a few minutes before I opened the door and grabbed the tray of whatever it was they decided to feed me. I didn’t want to put them on the spot.
I was in the house of the enemy. I should have been scared for my life when really, I didn’t care. I wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or not. The only one I could even remotely trust was Busy and even then, I didn’t know her. I also hadn’t seen her since the night she saved me. Couldn’t say I blamed her any. I knew there was a physical attraction between us but that was all it was. Or that was what I liked to tell myself anyway.
Reaching over, I flicked on the lamp that sat on the nightstand and grabbed the burner phone Greyson had so kindly given me.
“You call your club and I will kill you before you take your next breath.”
I rose an eyebrow. “My club? What fucking club? They betrayed me and kicked me out. I have no club.”I have no one.
Greyson had placed the phone in my palm the first night I showed up and continued going on about things I couldn’t remember. That was one thing that had always been my problem. I could never focus and I lost my train of thought. If people were talking to me, I couldn’t tell you what they were saying. Usually it was because I just didn’t care but something told me that maybe I should have listened to what Greyson had been saying.
I sighed, flipped open the phone, and dialed a number. I waited for it to ring once before hanging up. Ten seconds went by before I called again, waited two rings, and then hung up again. Calling a third time, I waited for an answer.
“Where the fuck are you calling from?” Rowan demanded.
“Nice greeting,” I mumbled.
“Seriously, Tanner.”
“Yeah, I’m serious too. You should be more polite. Maybe you hurt my feelings.”
He grunted. “Right. You have no feelings to hurt.”
“True.” I shifted my weight, bringing my knee up onto the bed and letting the other one hang over the edge. “Listen, I…” Why was I even calling him? Were we friends and he actually cared about my well-being? Did I care what he thought of me?
“What’s going on, T?”
I gripped the phone tight in my hand at the shortened use of my name. He had been the only one to ever call me that. “I don’t know.”
“I haven’t heard from you in a week. You’re good? You’re safe?”
“Yeah. I am.”
“Where are you?”
