I wasn't going to give an inch. Cutter learned this right away, which is why he had Jonesy shove me right back into that van to drive me God knows where. After a thirty or so minute drive, he pulled me out again, and we were at some giant house, one of those massive estates up in the woods that usually served as second homes for rich people from New York. It was a freaking palace, with columns and everything–not what I'd expect for a biker boss.
"Nice place, huh?" said Cutter, stepping off his bike and strolling up to the house.
I didn't say a word.
"Hope you like it; you're gonna be here for a while."
Jonesy grabbed me by the arm and led me into the massive home, the interior of which resembled a ritzy Tuscan villa. He dragged me up the spiral stairs and threw me into a massive office with just as much electronic crap as his place in town.
Cutter followed close behind, stepping into the office behind us and taking a seat at the large oak desk that sat against the back center wall. Above him were three large television sets, all with screens as black as pitch.
"Welcome to my humble little pad," he said, gesturing to the office. "My home away from home."
Jonesy tossed me into a fancy chair across from the desk, my body landing with a thud. I was getting really tired of this asshole tossing me around, and wished that strange strength that had filled my body in the car would return so I could teach him a thing or two about manhandling a woman.
Cutter dialed up a number on his computer, and soon, the three screens came to life, each with the image of a different scuzzy looking biker guy in each.
"Cutter," said the one in the middle, a scar-faced man with a shiny bald head. "This better be fuckin' good."
"It is, take my word for it."
He turned the camera on his desk over to me. I could see myself in one of the smaller screens, and as soon as the picture settled, the faces of the men in the TV screens all twisted into lascivious grins.
"What do y'all think?" Cutter asked.
"Who's that little piece?" asked the man on the right, a square-jawed military-looking man with short blonde hair and thin lips.
"Just a little something I picked up in town," Cutter said, a shit-eating little smile on his face.
"Nice," said the remaining man, a thin-necked, ugly man with beady eyes like Jonesy, "but I sincerely fuckin' hope you didn't set this meeting up just to brag about your newest fuck-toy."
"This isn't just any town piece," said Cutter. "This is a Swift."
The three men said nothing, all struck stone-silent by this bit of information. Why did the name of my family have such an effect on them?
"You're fuckin' kidding," said the thin-necked man.
"How'd you get a Swift?" asked the square-jawed man.
"Well, she's a girl, so we didn't have to worry about taming a bear, so to speak. And this one was dumb enough to wander right into our den and make eyes at one of the men in our club. We didn't even have to set the bait out, she went and found it herself."
My stomach soured at the thought of Lucas; I was still unable to deal with his betrayal. Part of me wanted to make him my first target if I ever got out of here.
"Very nice," said the man with the scars. "What exactly you got in mind for her?"
"I'm thinking she can be just what we need to get one over on the Swifts. I figure we can pry the information out of her, find out their weaknesses, and finally get those fucking bears off this mountain; make it wolf territory, like it was meant to be. Then, when that's all taken care of, I figured you boys in the city might enjoy her as a little, ah, token of my loyalty."
I felt the gazes of the three men track up and down my body and it made me want to puke.
"That's an ambitious fuckin' plan," said the scarred man. "Tell you what; you pull it off with your crew, and we might just be able to find a place for you in the circle here in the city."
"Perfect," said Cutter. "I'll keep you boys posted on details."
With that, the three screens went dark.
"Here's how we're gonna play this, lady," said Cutter, sitting forward in his seat. "First, I'm gonna be nice. I'm putting you up in a room here, and you can have a little time to give me what I want; let's say twenty-four hours. Then, if you don't feel like playing ball, things are gonna get rough for you. Very, very rough."
I felt the hard clap of Jonesy's hand on my shoulder.
"Rough as in letting Jonesy here get you good and warmed up to go to the city, if you know what I mean. Maybe spend it with a few other boys who'd be just as interested."
The feeling of Jonesy's hand on me disgusted me even more than it normally did. I wanted to kill him right then and there.
"J, why don't you take the girl to her room. Let her think about how she wants this to go."
Jonesy yanked me out of my chair and led me out of the office. We went down a long hallway and soon arrived at a small bedroom. The place was huge; we passed a handful of bedrooms on the way.
"Get in," said Jonesy, shoving me into the bedroom. "And don't even think about trying to leave."
With that, he shut the door, bolting the door behind him with a loud clank. And just like that, I was alone. I fell on the bed and began crying, feeling more hopeless than I'd ever felt in my life.