Chapter 16
Brynn
I heard Rex talking on the phone and I knew it wasn’t good. I woke up a few minutes ago sitting on the floor with my hands and ankles bound with rope. I could tell by how hot the warehouse was that it was daylight outside, despite the fact that no windows allowed any light into the room I was sitting in. My body ached and my cheeks were sore from the beating I had taken because of that phone call. Because someone kept pissing him off. I hoped it was Diesel.
That somehow, he was still alive and coming for me.
The second Rex hung up the phone, he turned to me with eyes of fire and fury. He strode towards me and I flinched, preparing myself for yet another blow to my cheek. But instead, he gripped my chin and forced my watery gaze back to his.
“How are the Dead Souls laundering money?” he asked.
“I have no idea what you are talking about,” I said. He gripped my chin harder and I tried to move away from his hand.
“Don’t make me ask again.”
I tried to keep my confusion intact as some relief washed through my veins. So, this wasn’t all just about me. Rex had something to lose and he was using me as his bargaining chip against the club. Which meant if I didn’t give him the information he wanted, he would keep me alive for a little bit longer.
“I don’t know,” I said.
“You do know,” Rex said. “And you’re going to tell me. Otherwise?”
He cocked his gun and leveled it to my head before someone else stepped in.
“Rex. Calm down. We need her alive. It’s the only way these assholes will turn themselves in.”
“She knows something,” Rex said. “So, she tells me what the hell’s happening, or she dies.”
“I swear to you, I don’t know. I’m sorry, Rex. Please, I don’t know. I don’t know. All I know is I made a mistake.”
I bowed my head and tried to play along as much as I could. My father taught me to give my captor what they wanted, within reason, in order to keep myself alive long enough so he could find me and bring me home.
“A mistake?” Rex asked. “What mistake?”
“Diesel. All those years ago. He was a mistake, Rex. I should’ve gone with you. My father wouldn’t have had to fake my death had I gone with you. I’ve missed home so much…”
I forced tears to fall from my face. I forced myself to plead with him. It made me sick, saying those words. Because I could never regret Diesel. Not for a fucking second. I felt Rex’s hand cup my cheek and I made myself nuzzle into his touch. Tears brushed against his skin as he tilted my gaze up to his. I felt his breath against my nose and it made me sick. I wanted to vomit all over him and curse him straight into the bowels of Hell itself.
He stroked his thumb against my cheek before he cocked his hand back and hit me again.
“You lying bitch. You think I can’t see through those fake tears? That fake plea? I know you love Diesel. My men stood in that damn apartment and listened to you whore around with him. But mark my words, you disgusting piece of trash, you’ll regret the day you chose him over me.”
I wouldn’t give him anymore of my tears. No matter how much my body hurt. Footsteps retreated before a door slammed off in the distance, and I was left alone in the cavernous warehouse. I heard all of them talking to one another, some raising their voices and some trying to calm others down. There were at least five distinct voices I heard. Possibly more. But none of them were as wild and reckless as Rex’s voice.
Then, my mind flashed back to Rex’s conversation on the phone. He was on the phone for a long time. Longer than I would expect given how much hatred he seemed to have for the Dead Souls and the Black Hornets. Whoever was on the other end was trying to keep him on the line for as long as they could. A tiny spark of hope ignited in my belly. They must have been trying to track where I was from the cell towers!
From the sound of how the call ended, it seemed like they hung up on Rex, which hopefully meant they found my exact location. Now I just needed to stay alive until they got here.
My eyes darted around the room, taking in my surroundings. There was nothing really around me except for some chains and a dusty cement floor. A stray desk here and there. A couple of decrepit rolling chairs. But there was some rusted-out piping that cascaded along the walls.
The edges looked sharp, too.
I laid myself down onto the ground and prayed there were no nails or broken glass in my way. Then, I began to roll. I rolled as silently as I could, stifling my cries of pain as my entire body throbbed. I’d never hurt so much in my entire life, and I bit down onto my lower lip as I rolled through the dust. I rolled over stray bits of two-by-fours and cried silent tears as I rolled over shards of flattened glass. I drew in deep breaths, pausing my journey to make sure those Black Saddle dickheads were still talking in the other room.
Then, I kept rolling.
I rolled all the way across the room before I sat myself up. I felt my arm scratch against the piping and I bit down onto my tongue to keep from saying anything. I slid the rope around my hands against the rugged surface, sawing through the material until I felt it loosen around my wrists. One wrap, gone. Two wraps, gone. Three wraps, gone.
And the second the fourth one fell away, my hands were freed.
I rolled my wrists around, trying to work blood back into my hands. I moved through the pain of the thousands of needles that felt as if they were piercing my skin so I could unbind my ankles. The rope fell from them after tugging and undoing all sorts of knots, and suddenly my body was filled with an energy I couldn’t explain. I stood to my feet and looked around, trying to find anything I could defend myself with if all this went south. They weren’t catching me off-guard again. I wasn’t going into yet another dark space empty-handed.
I grinned when I saw a thick piece of wood protruding with rusty nails.
I picked it up and took a few swings with it in my hand. Rex or his guys better not mess with me again. Because if they do, I wouldn’t stop whacking them until they were dead.