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The kidnapping. The room. My refusal to go down on my knees. Then the gunshot.
Damn.
I really screwed up; I should’ve just gotten it over with and sucked the ugly guy’s dick. Maybe then I wouldn’t have landed here.
I opened my eyes again, careful not to move my head.
The air smelled different. And this room—even though it was in the basement—felt more modern. I was almost certain I wasn’t in the same building anymore. Though it was equally cold, especially the metal bars pushing into my skin.
My cold, naked skin.
Panic rose in my chest, choking me. My chest tightened, and my breathing started to saw in and out of me, faster and faster, while at the same time, I felt like I was suffocating.
Calm the fuck down or you’ll pass out again, eejit.
I turned to my back—waited for the bout of throbbing in my shoulder to go down, then forced myself to breathe deep into my stomach.
Empty your mind.
Focus on your breath.
Count.
Time for all that meditation Fiona forced on me to pay off.
After I followed my breath, and counted to ten for what felt like a gazillion times, I felt marginally better.
Ready to take stock.
I had been kidnapped, brought to a basement, held in a dungeon, forced with a gun to my head to suck Bull-neck’s cock, shot myself trying to disarm him, got smacked in the head, and woke up naked in a fucking cage.
All in the last 24 hours.
Wait. How long had I been out? I couldn’t even say what day it was.
Didn’t know where I was.
Or who had taken me.
Fear coiled in my gut like a snake, and I started shivering.
I didn’t know anything.
And I was completely alone. Not even in a position to protect my sisters anymore.
Jemma, Cara, Fiona.
I clenched my jaw and listened to my heartbeat thrash in my ears.
What would they go through now?
Fuck.
I fucked up—on all accounts.
I looked at my shoulder. There was a blood-soaked bandage around my upper arm, but blood crusted the area below it.
And my whole arm was throbbing.
