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How in the fuck did a biker compound not have a secret cache of guns and weapons in every corner?
I froze as my keychain clanged with my movement. I had a weapon dangling off it. Yes, it was bright pink and couldn’t mortally wound anyone, but it was something.
There was another creak. My eyes were glued to the sliver of the kitchen that was visible through my vantage point … the spot between the island and the entrance to the kitchen from the hallway that led to the common area.
I stared at it like my life depended on it, which it did. There was a flutter in my belly.
Ourlives depended on it.
I could still hear the low rumble of Elden’s bike through my phone, and he must’ve switched to the Bluetooth system I’d set up for him because his voice was clear from the phone. I remember joking with him about him being so old, he couldn’t even figure out how to set up Bluetooth. He’d just smiled at me and kissed my head.
That felt like a million years ago.
“Baby, I need you to talk to me,” he ordered. I could tell was fighting for control.
Elden was scared.
My eyes didn’t move from the spot in the kitchen. “I have to put the phone down,” I whispered as low as I could. Even that felt too loud in the eerily silent clubhouse.
“Baby, don’t you leave me,” Elden growled, voice low to match my energy.
I didn’t want to. I wanted to cradle the phone to my ear, let him tell me everything was going to be okay, to wait for him to save me, but I knew it wouldn’t work that way.
I had to save myself. Both of us.
My hand shook as I reached blindly upward, placing the phone on a flat surface as I fumbled with my keys.
The entire time, my eyes had been on that corner of the kitchen, endlessly imagining seeing the legs of the man responsible for this. I’d been imagining it because that was how my mind worked, having seen scenes like this countless times in the movie marathons I’d had with Sariah.
But I wasn’t expecting it to really happen. I’d removed it from reality. My mind was fractured at this point, faced with things I knew happened in real life but only on documentaries set years in the past.
But what was happening was occurring right then, in the present. To me.
And the second I saw the motorcycle boot land on the kitchen tile, it became starkly clear...
He was here, and I was alone.
ChapterTwenty-Six
It was onlya moment before all of the lights turned off, and the only light came from the dying sun shining through the small window on the other side of the kitchen. Everything else was shadows, varying shades of black.
My keys were too loud as I scrambled for my taser. The footsteps grew quicker, less hesitant. He knew I was there.
I was literally cornered, in a fucking pantry, with no escape. I moved on instinct, knowing that if I stayed where I was, Elden and my stepfather would be finding two bodies instead of one.
That wasn’t going to happen.
I slipped in blood as I pushed off from where I was crouched down, darting out the door just as the footsteps became a roar.
I smelled him. As I brushed past the warmth of his body. He reeked of sweat. Of blood.
I was still jostling my keys as he reached for me. My goal was the hall, toward the door leading to the parking lot. There was more light there, I’d be able to see him. I’d have a better chance.
But I didn’t get there.
He grabbed me, yanking me back with a firm grip.
I let out a strangled scream, struggling like a banshee, unwilling to let him get his arms around me. I somehow knew that if he could get his arms around me, I was dead.
