In the early morning hours, a woman enters my room. Her raven hair blends into the darkness of the room making her seem almost ethereal in the softening dawn lights, peeking through the window. Hues of orange and pink ring her body, as if she’s wrapped in a dawn halo. The softness of her footfalls doesn’t make a noise, as she approaches me. She leans down, and whispers something in the same foreign language as my guards.

“I don’t understand,” I say to her.

“Come,” she says with a heavy accent. Her small hands untie the bindings away from my wrists and feet that held me hostage in my bed. I slide my feet off the bed. The coolness of the floor shocks my system against my bare soles. The woman reaches for my hands, and I catch a glimpse of her brown eyes. Sadness and pity fill them, obviously directed at my status here.

Is she a prisoner here as well?

I push to my feet, stumbling as I find my footing, and pad along after her outside the door. The guards that normally flank my doors are gone. The door grows smaller and smaller with the distance she pulls me away.

“Where are you taking me?” I whisper to her, but she doesn’t respond. She soon stops us outside of a door, and uses a key to unlock it. She gestures for me to go in first. I hesitate for fear this is just another trap of Gio’s to get me to break. She gestures again, but this time she smiles. Do I go in? She doesn’t seem as if she’s a threat to me with her small stature and gentle nature, but this could be a façade to make me feel safe.

“Please,” she urges. What do I have to lose if I do as she asks? It’s not as if my life could be saved at this point. I seriously doubt that this woman would be the means of my escape. I step into the room, and I hear the click of the light switch behind me. The room illuminates, and my eyes grow wide. I’m in a bathroom. She locks the door behind me, and steps around me, gesturing to the shower that sits in the corner of the room across from the toilet.

“Please,” she urges again.

“You want me to take a shower?” I ask, confusion clear as day on my face. What’s the point of cleaning up, when I’m just going to die later? This makes absolutely no sense. The woman nods her head, stepping forward into the stall and turning on the shower. A stream of water bursts from the nozzle. Steam soon begins to fill the room.

“You clean,” she orders a little more forcibly this time. Her hands start for the dress I have worn for the past several days. It sticks to my skin from the blood and sweat, and it hurts, as she peels it away from my body. She looks over me with even more pity, before ushering me into the shower. The hot spray stings, as soon as it hits the open wounds on my face. I hiss at the sensation, turning away from it. My eyes fall down my body. Cuts and bruises mark just about every limb of my body. Streaks of dried blood cascade down my body from the bra and panties I still have on. I look like someone’s personal punching bag. I reach up to touch my face with my hands, only finding more cuts and extreme swelling on my cheek from Gio’s attack for my disobedience yesterday.

I try to relax, but the woman’s hands shock me as she grabs my hair, pulling the remnants free from my last night with V. Before I can protest, she pulls a bottle from a small cabinet to the left of the shower and places the contents on my hair. The soft fragrance is pleasing and calming. She makes quick work of washing my hair, before pulling me out of the shower. I shiver, as she gives me a soft cotton towel to dry off with. She fumbles with my hair, piling the wet glob of tangles in a bun high on my head, which she secures with a rubber band.

The cabinet re-opens and a shirt and pair of sweat pants come out of it. She helps me into the clothes quickly, and pulls me back to the door again. The point of all of this is still foreign to me, but as soon as the door opens revealing Gio and his goons on the other side of it, I know. This was the bath, before the blood bath. He was washing away the evidence of my time here.

“Good morning, Presley,” he chuckles. “It’s time we go to see your family.”

He produces a black bag, shoving it over my head.

“Take her to the car,” he orders. Two pair of hands grabs me and jerks me forward. I stumble as they pull me, until I can feel warm pavement underneath them. The familiar click of a car door comes from my left. One of the men grabs my head and shoves me inside. I land roughly against the smooth interior of the car, and the door is slammed with a loud bang, sealing me inside. Several minutes go by, before I hear the door opening again. The car dips as several people enter the car. I scuttle as far as I can away from them despite not knowing where I am exactly in this car.

The front door clicks open, and another dip tells me the driver has entered the car. The ignition dings as the jingling keys slide into it. A soft hum fills the car, as the engine starts. I commit the sounds and feelings around me, as the car takes off. The sounds of rocks crunching under the weight of the tires, the turns we take, and even the bumps we hit. Anything I could use to identify where I am should I survive this after all. Light passes through the black bag on my head the longer we drive.

The dark, monotonous voices of men converse around me. I pick Gio’s voice out of the conversation and try to listen in, when he decides to speak English.

“My wife,” he chuckles. “She’s soft-hearted. I tried to tell her there was no point in cleaning the girl up.”

The men around me laugh at his words. The gentle woman was his wife? How could she be married to a monster like that? Was this forced upon her or did she agree to this willingly? I had read case studies about women like her in college. Stockholm syndrome was the medical term for falling in love with your captors out for survival. Was that what happened to her? My heart aches for her, a complete stranger for being in his kind of world. I hope she could escape someday, if that was the case.

The car jolts as it comes to halt. Are we here? Are we at the clubhouse?

“Search everywhere. Every outbuilding. Every room. If you find someone, kill them unless they’re the girl,” Gio’s voice orders. The car doors open, and I can feel several exit the car.

We wait in silence. I listen for the familiar sounds of the area around the clubhouse, and it only confirms that we are in fact here. The exchange that I didn’t want. The deal my brother made against my wishes, sacrificing one sister for another.

Please have a plan, Mikey. Please let what’s on the surface not be as it seems. Ginny deserves to live.

“Clear, boss,” a muffled male voice rings out from outside the car.

“Let’s do this,” Gio’s declares, as a hand grabs me. A scream slips from my lips, as they drag me out of the car. My knees hit the dirt hard. What was another bruise to the collection he had already accumulated on me. “Say nothing,” he beckons me from above, as I’m thrust from the ground and tugged. He shoves me down again. This time removing the hood from my head. My eyes burn from the sun beaming down, but they adjust quickly.

My brother, and so many of his club members are lined up single file all along the front of the clubhouse. So many of the faces with him are unfamiliar. These men have come here on my behalf. Men who don’t have any idea who I am, but as soon as my brother asked, they came for him. V stands to his left with Hero flanking the other side. His eyes connect with mine.

“You son of a bitch,” V’s voice yells out.

His fists curl at his chest, as he sees the damage that they’ve done to me with my time with them. He starts to charge toward me, but Raze shoots his arm out to stop him. This was going to be a delicate balancing act, and his rage-fueled reactions were not going to make this situation any easier.

“Enough, V. Back down.”

“You should have better control of your dogs, Michael,” Gio exchanges. “Show me the girl.”

The line of men shuffles around, and an opening forms next to Hero, as Slider brings out Ginny. Her body is limp against his. Ginny’s slumped form kneels down in front of them with her dark hair covering her face completely.

They’re doing this. They’re going to trade me for her. This is not what I wanted.

I look for Ratchet, not finding him in the crowd. Oh god. He was shot in my kidnapping. Did he die? Is this why they have no qualms in trading her for me? Because her brother was no longer a problem?

Please god no.

“I held up my bargain. The clubhouse is empty. We’re unarmed. Give me Presley.”

“Tut, tut,” he bellows. “In good time, Michael. I have a business proposition first.”

“Not interested. The deal was for Ginny and Presley’s trade. Not a fucking business deal.”

Gio paces behind me. He’s pissed that my brother won’t hear him out. His feet shuffle quickly behind me, as I feel the warm metal of a gun being placed to my head.

“You will listen to what I have to say, or I’ll blow her brains out right here on your property.”

V starts to charge again, but this time one the man to his left grabs ahold of him, securing him in a bear hug. “No” I mouth to him. This isn’t helping at all.

“Just get on with it, and take that fucking gun away from her head,” Mikey demands.

“I’ll think I’ll leave it just where it is.”

“Just get on with it,” V interjects.

“I want your connections to the skin trade.”

Mikey’s entire body flinches. My father was the one who was involved in that. Not my brother. Gio is fucking crazy.

“Why the fuck would you think I had access to that shit? We don’t deal in girls.”

Gio clicks the hammer back on the gun, driving home his point to my brother. The sound of the car door opening sends my head spinning back. The older man from the call steps out.

“Motherfucker,” a voice calls out, from the club’s side of the fight.

“You’re supposed to be dead,” Mikey coolly states. His face flashes with concern. Who is this man?

 

“You will show my father respect,” Gio orders to my brother.

 

He’s the leader? Fuck, this is so bad.

“What is that old saying?” the old man says. “Ah, yes. The news of my death was greatly exaggerated, but back to business. What my son is eluding to you is that you’ll be re-opening your pussy transport business again. For me. Thanks to you, my family has acquired your old pal Rex’s inventory.”

“You’re already doing it right now with acquiring the girl for me. What’s one step further?” Gio interjects.

Hero and V look to Raze, seeking answers to the impossible question laid before him. Gio’s plan is all out on the table now. While Ginny was his main concern, Gio found another way to manipulate the club. My capture opened up a new business venture for him, because he knows my brother would do just about anything to get me back.

“And if I agree?” Mikey questions. “What’s in it for me?”

“I’ll equip you, and of course, your sister will walk free, as soon as we conclude our little business transaction.”

“She’s off limits, and that extends to the rest of the women and children. They will not be harmed.”

“Deal,” Gio casually agrees. “Not one little hair on their heads will be harmed. Do we have an agreement?”

“Yes.”

“No!” I scream out. “Don’t be like our father. Just let them kill me. Please don’t do this.”

Gio strikes the gun against my head, sending me spiraling to the ground. My brother roars at his assault on me.

“Let’s get this over with,” he orders. My brother roughly grabs Ginny by the arm and leads her toward the dividing line between the two groups. He tosses her to the ground like a discard toy, and walks away from her. Gio drags me off the ground, mimicking my brother’s action. He tosses me to the ground, and I reach out to touch Ginny’s outstretched hands. She trembles under my touch.

Gio kneels down next to Ginny with the gun still in his hand. “You’ve been a tough girl to find, Veve.” His hand moves her hair away from her face in one movement. Her eyes peer up connecting with mine, and I nearly gasp.

Gio’s eyes flash with rage, when he realizes the same thing. That’s not Ginny.

“Who the fuck is this?” he roars. “This isn’t the girl.”

“Run, Presley,” V calls out. My feet scramble below me, but Gio catches me, before I can even take off. Within half a second, his arm is around my neck and the gun is pressed against my temple. It shakes under his grip.

“Say goodbye to your brother,” he says into my ear.

“I love you, both,” I scream, as a shot rings out. A sense of peace flows over me, as my body falls forward.