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I’ve never had a hangover before, definitely never from one gin and Sprite. It was justone, right? I’m pretty sure of that, anyway.
I can’t remember anything. Wait, no. I remember the break-up, the airport, and the bar. I was sitting at the bar when Browning showed up. He was about to sit down and then…everything went black.
“Good. You’re awake,” a deep voice grumbles.
My eyes flash open and my body jumps up to the sitting position. My gaze flashes around the room and finds…Browning?
I yelp as I grab my sheet and cover myself, absolutely mortified that not only am I naked, but this man I only met last night is in my room of all places!
“Afternoon,” he mutters, looking at me quizzically.
“What are you doing here? This is my apartment! How did you get in?” I snap at him, unable to contain my embarrassment.
“How do you think? What reason do you have for being naked…” he trails off and pulls a billfold out of his pocket—my wallet. He opens it and smirks. “…Laura Mallory Murdoch?”
Why does he have my wallet? Is he robbing me? Is that what’s happening right now?
Then, I think back on what he said. Why am I naked? I shudder in disgust. His presence is enough to suspect that I probably had sex with this dirty, old man. Ew. He’s old enough to be my father.
“Give me back my wallet and get out of my apartment,” I demand, my voice trembling just enough that I’m sure he picks up on my distress, but doesn’t address it.
“Actually, this isn’t your apartment anymore.”
What the hell is that supposed to mean? Of course, this is my apartment. I’ve lived here since I started college and I need to get ready for work once I get rid of this headache he’s making worse.
“You’re now the property of the Black Stallions, Laura Murdoch.”
TheBlack Stallions? The outlaw biker club?
My face goes pale as I see his vest laid over the back of my desk chair, showing the patch of the black horse everyone knows.
Black Stallions
San Jose, CA
No,no, no. This can’t be happening. I blacked out a one night stand with a fucking criminal and now…I’m his property?
That’s the way this whole thing works, right?
“Get dressed. I’ve already packed your things. We’re wheels up as soon as the guys get here.” Suddenly, he stands up and rushes out the door, leaving my life in shambles.
* * *
Browning lefta change of clothes at the foot of my bed, which he must’ve brought with him because I’ve never seen these things before. A white t-shirt, some denim shorts, and a plain black leather vest.
I throw on the clothes but race around my room as soon as I’m done, searching for my phone. I can call the police. Kidnapping is a crime and being caught in the act will surely get the Black Stallions shut down for good, right?
Damnit. I threw my phone in the trash in Paris.
I thought going to Paris with Dell was the worst mistake of my life, but turns out, going to that bar was the worst, ever.
Isn’t it bad enough that I already lost all my friends and my boyfriend of seven years? Now, I’m being forced into an illegal organization to be…what exactly? Fear creeps up my spine like a snake and I nearly crumble.
What are these people going to do to me? Are they going to traffic me, make me sell drugs, force me to kill people?
What has my life become? I groan.
“Showtime,” Browning mutters as he barges into my room, slamming the door against the wall. I don’t have a moment to respond before he throws me over his shoulder.
