Schade’s club is thumping tonight, everyone pumped for the “big fight.” Schade’s made a huge production of this one because it’s a high-level fighter, meaning he’s only lost three fights in his career. Money is high, and the energy is higher.

After the three beginning fights, the crowd is roaring, stomping their feet in the dirt and pushing people to get closer to the stage.

Once, I loved this—the rush, the hot and sweaty bodies moving in time with the fight. I even loved it when smaller altercations broke out and I put an end to them. Now, after everything that’s been going on and how my life has changed, the need for this isn’t there anymore. The urge to get in there and break people up these last two times has just been a job, and not one I enjoyed.

Strange how priorities change.

Deke is my number one priority now. When it happened, I have no clue. I think it was about the time he got shot. That was when I realized how much I cared about him. Then moving in together and beginning to build this life together, it’s changed my perspective on several things.

Also, Deke hasn’t fought since the last time I brought him here. He hasn’t had that need. In turn, I haven’t had it, either. It’s just vanished. I, of course, do it because I have to, but I’m thinking my time here is coming to an end.

Deke’s torn up about Austyn. There’s nothing I can do about it but be there for him when he wants to talk about it, which isn’t regular by any means. He’s a good man. A great man. I do my best to remind him of that every damn day so he doesn’t let the guilt I know he feels consume him.

Even though a couple of weeks have passed, I still make sure to tell Deke where I am. It gives him peace of mind, and really, it’s no skin off my teeth.

The main fight takes over the room, and people go crazy. I find myself in the throng of another fight. After breaking it up, I notice Jackson across the way, his fists balled up and ready to go at it.

Getting over to him is a crush, but before I can, he’s already thrown a punch at a man, sending him to the ground and knocking down a woman in very high sandals. She screeches, grabbing on to several different people and pulling them with her.

I get over to Jackson, pulling his arm behind his back. “Come on, buddy.”

He fights me, so I bend his wrist back. Only then does he move in the direction I’m pushing him.

I nod at the guys on my team, letting them know I have Jackson and will toss him out on his ass. This is the shit that isn’t holding my attention anymore like it used to. Don’t get me wrong, I can kick ass, but I’d rather be at my man’s apartment.

Definitely going to rethink my job here. X is fine, but this one is going to have to go.

“Jackson, what have you done now?” I ask, pushing him through the hallway where the noise isn’t nearly as loud yet still echoes off the walls.

He gives a little pull. “That asshole tried to punch me. He needed to be taught a lesson,” he growls.

I smile. “And you’re just the badass motherfucker to do it, huh?”

Opening the door, I push him out of it. He gives a stumble and falls to his knees. Geeze.

I move out to help him up. “You gotta stop doin’ this shit, Jackson. You’re gonna end up in that ring with someone who’ll take your head off.”

We stand in the back alley, the night calm, except for Jackson’s angry growls as he moves away from me.

A car screeches through the alley, headlights right on Jackson. I push him out of the way just at the car swerves, hitting me hard in the hip. Fire radiates through my thigh and down my leg as I fly through the air and land on the dirt and rock covered ground. I try to save my head from hitting the ground, but it hits anyway.

Colors burst behind my eyelids as a searing pain starts right at my temple and moves to the middle of my skull, hard and intense.

The car slams to a halt. Then a door opens before I hear footsteps.

Pulling my shit together, I reach behind my back for my gun and open my eyes to see a blur. The gun is kicked from my hands.

Moving as quickly as my body will allow, which isn’t fast, I try to roll away, but something hits me square in the back. I fight. With everything I have, I fight.

A man has me. I can tell by the pressure on me. I kick up, trying to meet his nuts. With my dizzy-ass not getting my bearings yet, I miss, but nail him in the thigh.

“Bitch!” he grunts.

I recognize the voice.

My head booms, but I’m able to get my eyes open enough to confirm.

“Lance?”

What the ever-loving fuck?

Electricity blasts through me, and I see black.

Cool water splashes on my face, waking me up. My limbs feel weak, like I touched a damn live wire. There’s even a vibration through me that isn’t natural.

Lance fucking stun-gunned me. I’m going to kill him.

Coming to my senses, I try to move my hands, but they’re held strongly by something. Opening my eyes, panic flares. My hands are duct taped to a steering wheel, as well as my legs. I look out and see the Sumner lake in front of me; only the moon glistening off the water giving me any light.

“About time you woke up.”

I shift to the window that’s halfway down. “Aunt Beatrice?”

Shocked doesn’t even cut what I feel.

“You dumb bitch. All you had to do was give me money. Why do you think I had your folks killed all those years ago? Money!”

Confusion bombards me as I struggle to put the pieces of this fucked up puzzle together through the haziness in my brain. Then anger, filled with hate, takes over.

“What do you mean? You killed my parents? What are you talking about?”

“Always the fast one. Doesn’t matter. You die, as your only living relative, I get your shit. Done.”

I tug at the tape, seeing if it has any give, which it doesn’t. “You’ve lost your fucking mind.”

“That’s the great part. I lost it a long time ago.” She actually smiles.

Lance comes into sight. “Can we do this shit so I can get back to the bitch in my bed?” he complains.

“Hang on, boy,” Aunt CB says, thoroughly enjoying me trying to get my hands free.

I pull harder, the tape tearing at my skin. The steering wheel moves just a bit, but it’s not enough.

“Seeing you drown while borrowing my car … such a travesty.” She shakes her head in mock sadness.

“You really think anyone is gonna buy that shit?”

Biding time. That’s what I need to do.

I look at the dash and see the time is eleven thirty-eight. Deke’s been picking me up from Schade’s. He’ll know I’m not there. I just need to bide time.

“Doesn’t matter. You forget Lance here knows a coroner? He’s going to help me.”

My mind scrambles. “He went to school with him, but he doesn’t talk to him now.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Lance growls, throwing his fist across my cheek.

Not going to lie and say it doesn’t burn, but I don’t give him the satisfaction. I feel a twinge of blood run down my lip, but I don’t bother swiping it off.

Asshole.

“Whoever pulls me out is going to see the tape on me. Did you think of that?” These two are a bunch of idiots. No police officer is not going to put that in a report with a dead body. Please.

“That’s the good part. Lance is going to go in and cut them off.”

“The fuck I am,” he challenges. “That wasn’t the deal. I was to get her in the car. Did that. My shit is over. Give me my cash. I’m out.”

I laugh at their stupidity. “You mean to tell me, you’re going to put me in the lake, tied to a car, and he’s going to swim down to me and take the tape off me … in the water.”

Stupid fucking morons, I tell ya. At least I know they don’t know how to hide a damn body.

“You want to get paid, you’ll do what I say!” Aunt CB pulls out a gun—my gun—and points it at Lance. Her hand is steady and knowing.

Alright, shit’s getting real. Maybe CB isn’t as stupid as I thought, but she damn sure is crazy.

“Stick your foot in, release the brake, and put it in neutral. Now!” Aunt CB yells at Lance.

He holds his hands up, fear in his eyes. What a pussy.

When he reaches in, I slam my head into his, using all my might, causing his head to hit the wheel. He cries out in pain, moving out of the car and holding his nose as blood gushes out of it.

I prepare for the strike to my face, and he doesn’t disappoint, but this time, it’s two, his hand slipping on the second one from all the blood.

“You fucking bitch!” he roars.

Aunt CB puts the gun to Lance’s head. “Do it,” she orders.

I prepare myself to strike him again.

I pull at my feet, realizing they are taped to underneath the seat. If I remember right, this car has a lever with a side opening to it. If I could wiggle my legs out, I could get free.

“Go on the other side, you idiot!” Aunt CB yells, and Lance listens. “I’ll push down the brake; you do the shifting. I don’t know why I picked such a moron.”

“Me, either,” I grumble, waiting for the opportunity to elbow, knee, or head bunt either one of them. This time, though, they don’t give it to me.

Keep a straight head.

I suck in a deep breath and run the scenario in my brain, the entire time pulling and moving my legs, trying to get free. The windows on both sides of the doors are rolled all the way down as the car begins its roll into the lake.

Holy shit. This isn’t happening. This can’t be fucking happening.

I pull hard, but the damn tape is too strong. So strong that all it does is rip my skin, but I don’t care. If there’s a chance it’ll rip, I’ll bear through it.

The car rolls into the water, the liquid coming up over the hood.

Panic hits. Deep-rooted panic. And no matter how much I try to keep a clear head, I know, deep down, this is my end. I’ll never get to have a home with Deke. Never get to have a family with him and the Ravage MC. Never get to have a happy life after years spent in hell. Never get to maybe have babies or just live.

Tears well up in my eyes as I fight the tape, not letting a single second take me down in defeat. If they want me dead, it’s going to be a fight, because I won’t give up. Not until my last breath is on this planet.

The water spills over into the window as the car rolls deeper into the blackness, the moon now giving an eerie glow, but maybe that’s just because my end is here.

Even when Deke finds out I’m not at work, he won’t know to look for me here. He won’t know that I’m in a car under the water. He won’t know that I need him to help me with every fiber of my being.

The tears spill over as the water sloshes over my feet, up my calves, and to my knees. It’s coming in at a rush, and fear like no other takes root.

I never thought I’d be as scared as when my parents died or when Deke was shot. However, this fear is for the future, one that I won’t get to live with the man I love. A life that has been wasted.

Coldness covers me now from the waist down and is rising quickly. The water is making it more difficult to get my legs free. It’s like an added weight or pressure, restricting me. I hate it. Hate it.

Jerking back on the steering wheel, I fight, tears falling from my eyes as the water moves up to my chest, then to my chin. I tip my head up, gasping for air, but the water keeps coming like a natural spring, one that’s going to take my life from everything I love.

I suck in a deep breath as I go under, pulling and thrashing, the force of each movement greatly diminishing from the water pressure.

My lungs burn, starving for oxygen, as I frantically look around, noting nothing to help me. Nothing around. Nothing.

Opening my mouth, water rushes between my lips, filling my lungs, and sucking the life from my body.

My last thought is … Deke, I love you.