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The men talk in hushed tones, and I strain to listen to their conversation. Big Dick’s voice rises just enough for me to make out the words “ransom” and “son”.
Shit, I was right. This man belongs to the club that has his son. Alan may have just handed me a gift with my new task. Feeding the one person who may have enough friends to help get him out. And if I play this right, maybe he can save me.
PRIEST
My brain throbs.It feels like a marching band of bass drummers are having drum line practice inside my skull. The thin strip of light from the window above me does little to illuminate the dark, damp room. All I can make out are the four cement walls encasing me. A makeshift bed creaks underneath as I try to move.
“Fuck,” I groan. Every muscle in my body screams in agony with any movement I make. It’s been days, I think, since I was brought here, maybe longer. Endless cycles of darkness and brief periods of consciousness has my mind all messed up.
My stomach growls. Turning as far as I can on the bed, I retch over the side.
I lie here in pain for what feels like hours before a clunking noise draws my attention to the metal door. I stay quiet as a woman with hot pink braids on either side of her face slips inside the room, then quietly closes the door behind her.
“I brought you something to eat.” Taking a few steps forward, she reveals a paper plate with a slice of bread and a smear of peanut butter across it. I try shifting in the cot, but my body is weak.
My hands shake as I bring the bread to my lips. It stings when I swallow, feeling like sandpaper against my throat. I have to cough in an attempt to force it down.
“I’ll bring you water next time. They were watching me. I couldn’t bring both.”
“Where am I?”
“I can’t tell you. If they knew I was in here, they’d kill me.”
My mind is so cloudy, I can barely think straight.
I study her pale face, taking in the scars that mark her cheeks and trail down to her collarbone and shoulders. Her left eye is black and blue from a fresh strike that could only be a few days old.
“What do they want with me?”
“I don’t know that, either.”
“Then why are you helping me?”
“Because the only way to survive here is giving them what they want, and the only way we’re getting out of here is if you’re still alive.”
I pause with the bread at my lips. “Who are you?”
“My name is Boo.” She points to the patch on my chest. “Priest?”
Nodding, I take another bite. This girl looks beaten and broken beyond repair, except for her eyes. They’re sad, but there’s life in them… hope.
“I heard them talking,” she whispers, her words coming out in a rush. “I couldn’t hear what they said, but they were talking about Big Dick’s son, and something about a ransom.”
That fucker is relentless. He’s been beaten and blocked from getting to that boy at every turn, and yet, he keeps trying. His mother would never allow him to get near him. And even if he managed to get past her, little Harrison has the entire Black Hoods MC at his back, ready to put their lives on the line to keep him from his disgusting sperm donor.
“You need to get me out of here,” I say, sitting up a little straighter.
Shaking her head sadly, Boo points to a thick black box banded to her ankle. “I can’t even get myself out of here.”
Anger, defeat, hopelessness, and despair wash over me like a tidal wave. I’m never getting out of this cell. Not alive, anyway. I have no say in the matter, but I do have a say in what to do with my time here. They think they can break me and get me to give them Harrison? I’ll die before I tell them anything.
Just then, footsteps echo down the hallway, and Boo’s eyes fill with terror as someone approaches.
“You stupid bitch,” a tall, older man growls as he storms into view. “What do you think you’re doing? I told you to feed him and leave. What were you saying to him?”
“Nothing,” Boo splutters, her body trembling. “He asked for water, and I was just telling him that I hadn’t brought any.”
The man’s hand comes out and connects with her face, his rings cutting her lip with the impact. Boo falls back a step, but keeps her footing.
