I’m dragged back into the room. My dad’s rough, unshaven face is the first thing I see. He’s worried; there’s even fear in his eyes and that looks wrong on him. His dark hair is marred with the dark stain of his blood from where he was hit earlier. I breathe deep, choking on my fear, but trying not to show it.

I’m holding onto one thing.

If my dad is here, that means his club is close by.

If I can keep my head and help him, we can survive this. It’s a matter of holding on and not losing control.

“My girl,” Dad all but moans.

His voice is filled with pain and I can see tears in his eyes. I can only guess how bad I look and I know that’s what is causing his pain right now. I try to keep my own tears at bay. I don’t really succeed. I stumble as I make it beside him. Dad wraps his arms around me and I go to him willingly and I hate that I cry, but I couldn’t stop it now if I wanted to. I never thought I would feel his arms around me again.

“I’m okay, Dad,” I lie. “I’m okay.”

He pulls me in tight, tucking my head under his chin.

“I’m so sorry, Tor. I’m so sorry, my little angel,” he says brokenly. “I’m so sorry I got you involved in this.”

My dad sounds tortured and his body is shaking. My knees are weak and I know I’m leaning on him too much—but I can’t stop myself.

“Isn’t this touching? Too bad I don’t have all day to watch it.”

“Carter, you bastard. Let my daughter go. This shit doesn’t have a damn thing to do with her,” my dad yells. I close my eyes tightly, knowing the worst is coming quickly and not ready for this small reprieve to be over. I always thought I was brave, but right now I don’t feel brave at all.

“It has everything to do with her,” the man my father calls Carter responds. I process his name, commit it to memory, because somehow I want to be the one who takes his life… to take everything from him, like he’s trying to do to me. Before I can do anything else, or even urge my father to quieten and wait for his men, I’m yanked away.

I scream because the hold on my hair is even more painful than before. My dad tries to pull me back, which causes more pain, but I do my best to hold onto him. For a split second I think we’ll win the tug of war. Then fear blooms over Dad’s face. I can see it take over his features, leeching into the characteristics on his face centimeter by centimeter—as if in slow motion—and draining the color from him. Then I feel the barrel of a gun pressed against my temple.

My dad lets me go. His hands go up to show he’s not resisting as I’m pulled away. I try to beat the panic down, but a sob escapes because I know the farther I get from my Dad—the more these monsters gain control over the situation—the more likely neither of us will survive.

Where are his men?

My dad would never wade into this situation without backup, especially with my life on the line.

“Carter, stop this. Let Torrent go. This is between the two of us, not her. Let her walk out of here. You have what you want. You have me, let her go.”

“You always were so damn short-sighted, Dodger. That’s what has really caused all of this,” Carter responds.

“Torrent doesn’t have a damn thing to do with this!” Dad literally spits out.

“She has everything to do with this. You thought you could back out on the Koreans. You’ve built your life by showing people you’re strong. Did you expect them to let you get away with making them look weak? You can’t step in this world with one foot, Dodger. You know that shit. Now you have to pay the price.”

“I said I’d pay it, but let Torrent go!” my dad pleads. The panic and fear in his voice is so potent I can feel it.

“Where would be the fun in that? Let me ask you, Dodger. When someone betrayed your club, what did you do to them? Did you show them any mercy? Their family any mercy?”

“I told you, you can do what you want with me! But—”

“But nothing! You aren’t calling the shots here. I am. Now get down on your knees.”

“I—”

“Get down on your fucking knees or lovely little Torrent here will have a bullet in her brain. Your decision, Dodger, but you might want to make it soon,” Carter says. I bite my lip to keep from crying out when I hear the gun at my temple cock in preparation. I close my eyes and when I open them back up they’re locked on my father’s. Regret is shining in his eyes and that’s almost too painful to see. My body trembles as he slowly drops down to his knees, his gaze never leaving mine.

Where is his club?!?!?