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This isn’tthedungeon, surely? This isn’t North’s dungeon? It feels too real. Too terrifying. There’s nothing remotely sexy about this space.
A sob works its way past my lips and nausea churns in the pit of my stomach as I fight the urge to retch. I struggle against the chains, the links biting into my skin. My vulnerability settles like a stone in my stomach, anchoring me to the grim reality of this situation.
My eyes dart around the room, searching for any sign of the masked stranger from my intense dream. He isn’t here. It wasn’t real.
But my brain slowly recalls the figure in the car park outside the club. He stank of cigarettes, nothing like my guys’ unique and intoxicating scents. He grabbed me, but then…
I draw a blank.
The corners of my prison remain obscured in shadow, hiding potential threats that may lurk beyond my line of sight. I try to call out, but my voice is reduced to a feeble whisper, drowned out by the oppressive stillness, my fear, and dehydration.
How long have I been gone from the club? Do the guys know? Are they looking for me?
I remember Dash’s betrayal and a sharp pain lances through my chest. I sob until I have no voice and no tears left.
DASH
I can’t believe everything is unravelling. I thought I had more time. I had a plan. I thought everything would be okay. I should never have listened to that message on my phone:
If you follow her, she dies. Tell no-one. Await further instructions.
I panicked. Grabbed all the cash I could, knowing that my time was up, and, when the instructions came through, raced to Sycamore – the worst part of town. The entire time the guilt and anxiety were eating me alive as I feared for Candy’s safety, swimming in regret for falling for her and accidentally getting her involved.
But there was relief there too; I’ve got their money. The full two hundred grand. I don’t know what they’re going to charge in interest. Maybe they’ll take this as a down payment and give me Candy back, and we can agree to work on something else for the rest. It’s not like my stepbrother is going to come up with the goods.
I try calling him again, but it goes straight to voicemail. Again. Gritting my teeth, I curse him for dragging me – andCandy – into this mess in the first place. I rattle off a quick text to the family, checking they’re okay.
A message comes through a moment later.
Turn off your phone. Ditch it. Head to the corner of West Street and North Lane. You have two minutes.
Fuck. It’s a good ten minute walk to get there, and I’m not one hundred percent sure of the way without using my phone for guidance. But what choice do I have?
I drop my phone in a nearby bin and take a deep breath, then I run, my heart pounding. Sweat beads on my forehead as I race and attempt not to slip on the sludgy snow-covered pavement. What the hell is going on? Why do they want me to ditch my phone? Is this some kind of trap?
The adrenaline is pumping through my veins as I approach the corner of West Street and North Lane. I scan the area nervously, trying to spot someone who might be waiting for me. But there’s no one there.
I take a deep breath and slow to a walk, trying to act as casual as possible even though the streets are deserted. Of course they are, it’s the early hours of Boxing Day morning and everyone is tucked up at home in their beds, sleeping off their turkey dinners.
My eyes scan the street, looking for any sign of danger. As I round the corner, I note a black van parked down the road. The door slides open, and a tall, muscular man steps out.
I freeze, my heart in my throat. The man walks towards me, his footsteps measured and deliberate. I stand straighter and grip the bag of cash tighter. Is Candy in that van? Please let her be okay. Please just make sure she’s alright and I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to her somehow.
As he gets closer, my stomach knots in apprehension. This is it. I can fix things. Save Candy and my stepbrother. My brothers will forgive me for my betrayal eventually…I’m almost certain.
“Are you the one they call Dash?” the man growls, his voice low and menacing.
I nod, unable to speak. My throat is dry, and my mind is blank with fear.
“Good.” he says, grabbing my arm roughly.
I stumble and almost drop the bag of cash before he lets me go and wrenches the bag off me. “We’ll be in touch.”
“Wait!” I cry, desperate. The guy stops walking and turns back to look at me.
“Where’s Candy? Can you let her go?”
“We need to make sure the debt is fully settled first.”
