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Colton's Salvation: A Demented Sons MC Novel by Kristine Allen (33)

 

 

 

 

I WOKE UP WITH a pounding headache. Oh. My. God. I was never drinking that much wine again! I was so stiff I could barely move. When I realized my couch felt really hard, I wondered if I had fallen asleep on the floor. I tried to open my sleep-crusted eyes, but they felt so heavy. I went to bring my hands up to rub my eyes and couldn’t move them. What the hell?

In a panic, my eyes suddenly cleared and I lifted my head to see where the hell I ended up. Did I break my arms when I fell?

That’s when I realized I was lying on an old cot with my hands duct taped together and then tied to the top edge of the cot. My ankles were also taped together and tied to the foot of the cot. Holy shit! Holy shit! Holy shit! Oh my God! I started to hyperventilate. My face and arms were tingly, and I couldn’t catch my breath.

Where the hell was I, and what the heck was going on? Now that I had woke up fully, I remembered falling down in my apartment and hitting my head, but that was all I remembered. Suddenly, the memory of a man’s voice rushed back to me. Oh my God, there was a man in my apartment? Yes! I couldn’t get the door to shut! He must have been the reason. Oh God, why did I drink so much last night?

I wondered how long I had been out. What time was it? I looked around, trying to see if there were any clues to my location. Every movement made my head feel like it was on the verge of exploding. It looked like an old trailer of some sort. I saw an interior door at the end of the trailer. So there was some kind of other room at the end. An office maybe? I noticed a crappy-looking desk with boxes stacked on it and next to it. A chair with a broken leg sat in the corner toward the foot of the cot with a rolling chair across from me by the desk. There were coats hanging on a row of hooks on the wall, but they had a thick coating of dust on them, so I figured it was pretty safe to assume they hadn’t been used in a while. The whole place looked dirty and unused actually.

There was a beat-up looking metal trailer-type door up past the head of the cot and a single visible window that appeared to be boarded up, but I could see sunlight seeping through the sliver-like openings between the boards. The tiny slivers of light felt like search lights to my light-sensitive eyes. So it was daytime anyway. Did I lose an entire day though? Was it Thursday or Friday? Jesus, my brothers must be wondering where the heck I was. Reaper must be pissed because I hadn’t answered or called him back. Please God, let someone be looking for me.

Hell, my head hurt.

My heart started to race. Terrified and panicking, I pulled and jerked on the tape around my wrists, but only succeeded in rubbing them raw. What was going to happen to me? I tried to collect my thoughts. I needed to think. I didn’t hear anyone in the trailer, but they could be right outside. Oh God, I didn’t want to die. My baby needed me still. She was just a baby, God. And her daddy, I just found him again. I love him and he doesn’t even know how much. Oh dear God, sweet Jesus, I love him.

Crying, I pulled desperately again at my bound wrists. Why wouldn’t it come loose? Dammit, the tape was moving on my wrists, but I couldn’t get it off! The fucking tape cut into my wrists, making me bleed. Shit. Pull it together, Steph. You have to think! I started to feel like I was hyperventilating again.

Breathe. Breathe, Steph. Slowly. In. Out. Deep breaths. Shit, my boob was spasming. Could hyperventilating or stress make your boobs spasm? No. It stopped. Okay, it was in my head. Hot tears ran unchecked down my face and into my hair as I lay my head down and squeezed my eyes shut. Between my head feeling like it was going to explode and the stiffness in my arms and legs, I couldn’t stop crying. I was hurting and scared. Please God, help me…

My boob started to spasm again. What the hell was happening to me? My boobs were going to fall off from the stress. Oh dear God, am I having a heart attack? Wait. Wait a minute. Shit, Steph, you freaking idiot! You stuffed your phone down your bra! Cripes! I had my phone. He didn’t know my phone was in my bra! Great, how did I get at it? I couldn’t get my hands loose. I cried more but tried to stay quiet in case whoever took me was outside. I wasn’t ready to die, and I just knew I was going to die when they came in.

I needed to pee. Shit, was I going to have to lay here and pee myself? Maybe I did want someone to come in. Maybe they were going to ransom me? No, my family wasn’t wealthy. I started crying harder until I was so wore out I fell asleep again.

The door rattling woke me, and my gaze flew toward the door in a panic. Oh shit, please don’t let anyone call my phone. They’ll hear the vibration. Oh God, please don’t let anyone call right now! The door swung open slowly, and I heard someone coming up metal-sounding steps. A man with a ball cap came in and turned his back to me as he began to set things down by the inside of the door. I tried to think of a plan, but there was nothing I could do while I was bound like this. I needed to beg to use the bathroom, then maybe I could access my phone. I needed to activate the app that would signal Erik and the MC; then they would know something was wrong and could track me. Okay, I had a sort-of plan. Now I just needed to figure out how to get to my phone before someone called the damn thing again.

The man turned to me, and I almost swallowed my tongue. Michael. I shouldn’t be surprised, but I was. I couldn’t believe he would do something like this. I thought he was just possessive or needy. Or maybe a little wacko. I didn’t think he would resort to kidnapping. Shit. He looked up and made eye contact with me. Jesus, he looked deranged. Something must have freakin’ snapped in him. He barely looked like the same person. Of course, his obviously broken nose and the fading bruises on his face didn’t help much. Those must be courtesy of Reaper. Shit, he did a number on him. It almost looked like his eye socket had been crushed and his left eye was drooping.

“I see you’re awake, baby. I was wondering if you had hit your head too hard and you weren’t going to wake up. That would have been disappointing. I wanted to be able to see your face when I enjoy the favors you denied me but gave to that piece of shit nasty-ass biker. Thanks to him, no woman will ever look at me without disgust in her eyes. After I taste the treasures you gave him, I’m going to make sure you know how I feel. We’ll see how bad he wants a piece of your ass after I’ve made you bleed and destroyed you for other men. Neither him, or any other man, will be attracted to you then.” His laugh sounded like a creepy hyena. Oh dear God in heaven. No. I shook my head at him as words failed me. That set off the pounding in my head again, and nausea rushed in. Tears leaked out of my tear-swollen eyes as I settled on his maniacal smile. I needed to get at my phone. Please, God, I just needed to get at my phone. I tried to calm myself. I couldn’t let him see me fall apart. Breathe, Steph.

“Michael, I don’t know what you’re talking about. I haven’t done anything with any biker. Remi’s dad is a biker, yes, but we’re just friends. What we had was one night years ago, and that’s over and done. Nothing happened between us.” I tried to look calm and slightly pleading. I needed him to believe me, despite my heart feeling like it was going to burst due to my heart rate running at about a hundred miles an hour. I prayed the rapid pulse in my neck wasn’t a dead giveaway.

“No. No. No. No. No, Steph, baby. I saw you with him. You can’t lie to me. He dropped you off at your car. You were on his motorcycle, Steph. I saw you.” He spoke to me almost like I was a small child he was scolding. God, he was freaking the crap out of me.

“Yes, he had given me a ride back to my car from my friend’s house. That’s all. I had ridden with my friend from high school to her house from the little town bar. He was there to see her, and he gave me a ride back. It really wasn’t what you’re thinking.” Please believe this load of crap, please, please, please.

“Then what was he doing at your house later? Did you forget he did this to me?” He pointed at his deformed face as he screamed.

“Michael.” I tried a soothing tone. “He didn’t know who you were, and he just saw someone he thought was hurting me. He’s protective of all women. It wasn’t anything special. He had come by to see Remi because I had told him he could.” I needed to get him to calm down long enough for me to use my phone. There had to be a bathroom here somewhere. I really needed to piss now too.

“I really need to go to the bathroom. Is there a bathroom I can use?” It was imperative that I get him to release me and leave me alone briefly. Then I just needed to try to hold my sanity together and keep him from raping me and torturing me. Yeah, piece of cake. Holy shit, I was so screwed. This was not how I ever thought my life would go.

He pulled out a wicked-looking knife from the pile of things he had set inside the door. When he began to walk toward me with it, panic set in again.

Oh God, Reaper, I’m so sorry I didn’t give credence to your worries about this crazy asshole.

Sweat broke out between my shoulder blades and across my brow. I was terrified thinking of what he was going to do to me, but I was desperately trying to keep him from seeing how truly shaken I was. My mind screamed at me to fight, scream, or just do something, but I felt paralyzed as I watched him come closer.

He held the knife up under my chin, and the razor-sharp tip touched the sensitive skin under my jaw. My breath was erratic, and I was on the verge of a panicking and tears formed in the corners of my eyes from both the pain and fear. If anyone had ever asked me if you could taste fear before this, I would have looked at them and laughed. Now I could tell you fear did have a taste. Fear was metallic and acidic at the same time. Fear dried your mouth, preventing words from forming on your lips. Fear smelled too. It smelled like ash.

“You better not try anything stupid, Steph. There is nowhere for you to go and no one will hear you if you scream. But I’ll have to punish you if you do, because you will have disobeyed me. Don’t piss me off, Steph. Don’t make me kill you….” He pushed the tip of the blade further in until I felt a warm trickle run down the side of my neck. I whimpered and tried not to cry.

“Please, I won’t do anything stupid. I promise,” I whispered.

He sliced through the rope tying my wrists to the cot and then the tape at my feet. He left the tape around my wrists and dragged me back to the door by the tape. My wrists burned. He opened the door, flinging me through the doorway. There was nothing in the room except for some old cloth tarps piled in a corner. I looked at him in question, wondering how the heck I was supposed to go to the bathroom.

“Wait here,” he ordered as he turned back to the main room, returning with a paint-splattered five-gallon bucket and a roll of toilet paper. He dropped the bucket against the wall and handed me the roll, then stood there looking at me.

“Ummmm, can I have a little privacy? It’s not like I can go anywhere.” I gestured toward the windowless walls. Where the hell did he think I was going to go? I needed him out of the room so I could use my phone, and I sure as shit did not want to have to pee in front of him. How fricking humiliating! Dang it!

“Don’t try anything sneaky, Steph. I’m not in the mood.”

“I won’t.” I tried to look meek and submissive.

He gave me a glare and backed out of the room, closing the door. Breathing a sigh of relief, I worked my bound hands to get my phone from my bra. I fumbled as I pulled it out and it slipped from my hand. Thankfully, I caught it to my chest with my forearms. Oh my God, that was close. I pulled down my jeans and perched on the bucket. Jesus, this was uncomfortable. The edge of the bucket painfully dug into my ass and legs. As I peed, I opened my phone, turning it completely silent with no vibration. I sent a group message to Erik, Reaper, and my brothers, simply saying: help me locator activated. I wanted to say so much more, but I didn’t want to waste precious time or get caught. Then I went to the locator app, clicking on it to send off the signal they told me it would initiate. I noticed my battery life was low, and I prayed they would get the message and the locator notification before it died. I set the phone on the ground and then shoved it under the tarps with one foot before trying to grab for the toilet paper. The bucket wobbled as I reached, and I almost fell over.

“What’s taking you so long?” Michael asked through the door as the doorknob rattled.

“Wait! I’m just trying to wipe. It’s difficult with my hands like this.” Dickhole. Thankfully, he didn’t come in. I was able to wipe and drop the paper in the bucket. Dang, I had to pee a lot. I was so glad I didn’t tip the bucket as I got off it. That took some leg muscles, let me tell you! I took a quick glance to make sure my phone was completely covered as I was buttoning my pants. The door burst open and he looked around like he thought I was up to something. Thank goodness I had been able to get my pants done up. It felt like a protective barrier between us. I didn’t have much, so I clung to what I had.

He jerked me by my wrists back out to the room and pushed me onto the cot where I landed on my bound wrists, falling forward on my face. I was able to push myself back into a sitting position with my back against the wall. Warily, I watched as he paced in the small space. The knife sat on the edge of the desk, making me wish my hands weren’t bound. Of course, I had no idea if I could get to it before he stopped me. Could I actually stab him if it came down to it? I didn’t know, but I needed to figure out something in case they didn’t find me for a while.

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