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I know my brothers, and there’s no energy for this particular mission, which means I can pout like a fucking baby, or I can be a man and make my point.
“If they hurt Cassidy, who knows nothing about us, they’ll escalate this shit until they grab Kelsey or Letty or even Kenna.”
“Asshole,” Shades grumbles beside me.
“Maybe but look at the bigger picture. Cassidy has probably told them she’s nobody to us, which means next time, they’ll be sure to grab someone theyknowis important to us.”
“Fuck,” Ace growls.
Dix and Coop grunt in unison.
I smirk. Cocky, I know. But right now, I’m not just a player in the game—I’m making the rules.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Cassidy
Nothing wakes a girl up faster than nearly being drowned in ice-cold water, which is how I’m woken up after my torture session, I mean interrogation. That Ghost is a real fucking asshole. He gets off on inflicting pain.
I sit up straight, gasping as cold water soaks through my clothes. “What. The. Fuck.” It’s dark for a second before someone rips the black hood from my head.
“Rise and shine, bitch!” A bunch of female laughter sounds, and I look up but can’t see anything because two sets of hands grab my arms and drag me from the closet. “You girls see this bitch? Thinks she can try to fuck over Ghost and get away with it.”
I’m flat on my back on a hardwood floor, staring up at five girls wearing head-to-toe red and black. Some have on bandanas, while others wear hats, headbands, or ponytails wrapped in red and black.Gang colors, I realize a moment before the first stomp lands on my already broken hand.
“Fuck!” The pain radiates up my arm and settles at the base of my skull, causing my vision to blur around the edges.
“Tell us what you did.”
I’m not sure which of them is speaking, and I don’t really give a shit. I can’t focus on anything but the pain.
“Yeah, bitch,” a foot shoves me back down as I try to sit up, and I let out a low grunt. “Tell us about those stupid fucking bikers.”
“What bikers?” I get to my feet, shoving the pain down as deep as I can, even though it radiates through my entire body. The blood on my missing fingernail started to harden almost immediately, so the pain is less than yesterday, but it still hurts like a motherfucker.
“Wrong answer.” Another heavy boot collides with my back, crushing me to the ground. I wheeze as the air is knocked out of me, and my face hits the cold, hard floor. “What are they planning?” a voice shouts, half hysterical.
My mind races as I try to make sense of the situation. Whatever’s going on between these guys and Diesel's people has nothing to do with me. “No clue,” I manage to croak out in response.
A woman with a jagged scar across her cheek kneels down in front of me, her dark eyes flashing with anger. She grabs my jaw roughly, forcing my head up to meet her gaze. “Hold this bitch,” she orders her companions.
I struggle against their grasp, but it’s futile. Four girls hold down my arms and legs while two others kneel on either side, their hands tugging at my clothes. Panic sets in as I realize what they’re about to do.
“What the fuck are you doing?” I shout frantically, still trying to break free. Maybe if I can tire them out, I can escape.
In the midst of the chaos, one of the girls loses her grip on my arm, and I take advantage of the opening. With a surge of adrenaline-fueled strength, I grab a handful of hair from the girl, trying to remove my shirt and yank her back with all my might. The back of her head slams against the floor with a sickening thud, causing everyone to stop momentarily in shock.
“Let. Her. Go.”
“Let me go.” My fingers still clutch her hair even as she struggles, gripping my wrist with one hand and scratching me with the other.
“You have no moves here. Let her go. Now.” The scar-faced bitch towers over me, doing her best to look intimidating. And failing.
She’s right. I have no moves. Not one fucking thing I can do to get myself out of this situation, but I don’t give a shit. I’m not scared of these girls, not after those crazy fucks who paid money to fuck with me, and not after spending a couple hours with Ghost and Tiny. Instead of telling her to fuck off, I say nothing. Instead, I tighten my grip until the girl in my hand cries out.
“Put her down,” Scarface orders them and one by one each of my limbs falls to the floor.
I scramble to my feet quickly, stomping the bitch who tried to take my pants right below her knee. Her cry is so fucking loud it makes my ears ring, but I focus because they all crowd around me, hitting and kicking me. I fight back, but they’re landing more blows than I am, and the pain slows me down.
