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Ride Hard (Fortitude MC Book 1) by Amity Cross (4)

Sloane

I didn’t know how much time I had.

Chaser had been right about the men trying to drag me into their beef with my dad, but it didn’t mean I was going anywhere with him, either. This wasn’t a movie where the hot hero showed up and said, ‘Come with me if you want to live.’ This was real life, and in it, I had to be my own hero.

Glancing over my shoulder, I hoped it was the last time I would have to, but I knew I would be doing it for the rest of my life. Well, at least the rest of my father’s life.

Powering through the security entrance, I ran up the stairs to the fifth floor. I had to be fast. Grab a bag and stuff in as much as I could carry.

Maybe I was doing the wrong thing, and maybe I was too stupid to live, but I didn’t want to choose the lesser of two evils. Death on one hand or imprisonment on the other. The smart choice would be to go for imprisonment, but it was off the table. Not when I had a chance at disappearing before I was forced into it.

I had to try.

Jogging down the hall, I rounded the corner and almost slipped and fell on my ass. A body wearing a pink robe was lying half in and half out of the doorway to an apartment, her clothing clashing with the crimson pool of blood she was lying in.

Mrs. Adelstein.

My hand flew to my mouth, and I stumbled back against the wall. I was so screwed. It was bad this time. Really bad. What had my father gotten mixed up in?

Glancing down the hall, the door to my apartment was closed, but that didn’t mean shit.

Stepping over the pool of blood, I swallowed the vomit working its way up my throat and pulled out my keys. I had to at least get my cash. I wasn’t getting far with the twenty bucks in my purse, and I’d forgotten to collect my tips for the night. I needed that money. Otherwise, I was fucked before I even got to the city limits.

Raising my hand, I went to put the first key in the lock, but it never got there. A hand clamped down over my mouth, and I was pulled back against a hard chest, a strong arm trapping my arms against my sides.

I screamed and thrashed, desperate to get away. Lifting my feet off the ground, I kicked backward, aiming for anything I could. There would be bonus points for ramming my heel into his cock.

“Fuck,” a male voice rasped. “Settle down.”

Like hell. I thrashed harder, attempting to shake my head side to side. If I could just gain enough slack, I could bite down

“Sloane, it’s Chaser.”

All the more reason to go for the bonus points.

“Quiet down,” he murmured into my ear. “They could still be inside.”

His words flipped my switch to the off position. I slackened, and his grip loosened. When I didn’t try anything, he let me go.

“Keys.” He held out his hand, and I placed them into his palm.

I stood back against the wall, my knees trembling as he unlocked the door and pushed it open with the tip of his boot. It swung inward, but nothing happened. No gunshots, no knives, no men bursting out, nothing. My one room apartment was empty.

“Clear,” Chaser said. “Nice place. Real…open. Never seen a shower in the kitchen before.”

I wasn’t in the mood to argue about the configuration of my shithole apartment.

I glanced down the hall. Mrs. Adelstein’s hand was peeking out from her door, the pool of blood creeping further toward the opposite wall. There was no way he could’ve gotten here before me. Chaser didn’t kill her. So who did? It couldn’t have been Pube Face, who was sporting a mighty fine stab wound, so it meant he wasn’t alone.

He wasn’t alone.

“Are you ready to stop running and start listening?” Chaser snarled in annoyance, pushing me into my apartment.

“How do I know you’re not one of them?” I demanded as he closed the door and leaned against it. “I have no reason to trust you. I don’t want to, considering you work for my father.”

“If I were one of them, you would’ve been dead long before you even saw me.”

I tensed, my heart twisting in my chest. How long had Chaser been watching me? More importantly, where had I slipped? I must’ve given myself away somewhere along the line. I had fake IDs, dealt in cash, used a scrubbed computer, and had a burner phone. I hadn’t even legally changed my name or submitted any forms with my signature. I’d made up a new one to go with my new identity. How did he know?

“They’ll be back if they aren’t already on their way,” he said. “Get your shit, and be quick about it.”

“I’m not going with you.” I fished around in my bag, looking for the present I would embed in his face.

“Sloane, for fuck’s sake…” He strode across the room, grabbed my arm, and shook me.

Stop it!

“Get it through your pretty little head,” he said, his iridescent eyes blazing. “If you don’t come with me now

Pressing the barrel of my gun against the side of his skull, I curled my lip.

“If I don’t go with you, what?” I asked triumphantly.

“Put the gun down.” Chaser didn’t even blink. There wasn’t even a twitch on his handsome face. If anything, he seemed exasperated.

No.”

“We don’t have time for this.”

“I’m not going anywhere with you,” I repeated for what felt like the umpteenth time. “So you better let me go. I’ll do just fine on my own. I’m not your problem.”

“You know how much of a mess firing at close range will make?” he asked, baiting me. “You’d better close your eyes and mouth unless you want to eat brain matter, sweetheart. Are you ready to see that? Blowing a man’s head off three inches from your own face?”

The smirk faded from my lips, the gun sliding an inch down the side of his skull.

“I don’t give a fuck what you think about me, and I especially don’t give a rat’s ass how much you love your daddy. You’re coming with me because right now, it’s the only way you’re walking out of this shithole alive. Didn’t that little display back behind that cesspool do anything to you? He would’ve raped your corpse, Sloane.” Reaching up, he curled his hand around the gun, his fingers tightening on mine. “Either you pull the trigger or you get your shit.”

I didn’t know when I’d begun to tremble, but I felt it the moment his hand covered mine. He was right, I didn’t have the guts to blow his head off, just like I didn’t have the guts to fight back against Pube Face. It hadn’t taken long for me to give up, and it made me feel sick. I was just going to try to beat these fuckers on my own?

One thing was right. I was too stupid to live and too cowardly to die.

Lowering my hand, Chaser pried the gun from my fingers, though this time, he had nothing smart to say.

“Two minutes,” he finally said. “Two minutes, and we’re gone. Okay?”

Swallowing my brewing tears, I turned and found my bag. Pulling clothes from their hangers, I shoved them into the duffel. Upending old shoeboxes full of underwear and socks, I filled in the gaps. Toiletries and makeup went next, then my textbooks and laptop. I would have to give up the security deposit on this place, but college was one thing I wasn’t willing to give up on. Not yet.

Chaser raised an eyebrow but remained silent, his body half in and half out of the apartment.

Finally, I wedged the refrigerator away from the wall, sending a big-ass cockroach scurrying across the floor. Reaching around the back, I pulled out the resealable plastic bag filled with all the cash I had and shoved it into my handbag.

“Ready,” I said.

Chaser stepped out into the hall, his free hand bunching around the collar of my denim jacket. Shaking him off, I glared.

“You don’t need to drag me.” I hissed. “I’ve got the message. Loud and fucking clear.”

His eyes narrowed, then he nodded. “Quickly. Follow me.”

Stepping over Mrs. Adelstein’s blood, we hurried down the hall and into the stairwell. Five flights down, we weren’t stopped. He led me toward the back of the building, my gun still in his hand…safety off.

Chaser lingered, watching the back parking lot for a few minutes. I pressed behind him, my shoulder resting against his back. His muscles rippled as if he was reacting to me being there, but I couldn’t be sure. It didn’t matter, anyway. I was a job, not a conquest. Besides, I was so not going to suck him off as a reward for saving my bacon. Not after the night I was having.

When Chaser was satisfied no one was around, he led me toward a car at the rear of the lot. A dark colored sedan with tinted windows. Nothing special.

Unlocking the doors, he gestured for my duffel. Letting him take it, he threw it in the back as I got into the passenger seat. Talk about eating my words. Looked like I had to choose the lesser evil, but people had done worse things to survive, right?

Chaser got in the front and gunned the engine. The headlights switched on, illuminating the car in front as he backed out of the space before roaring out of the lot and onto the street.

Sinking back into the seat, the silence was deafening. Pressing my fingers against the cut on my neck, I checked for blood, but my finger came back clean. My pride hurt a lot more. I was supposed to take care of myself, but I’d almost been raped and murdered…and poor Mrs. Adelstein. She was a crazy old bat, but she didn’t deserve to be murdered on her doorstep.

Reality was sinking in faster than the car, which was now hurtling onto the freeway.

“Your neck hurt?” Chaser asked, glancing at me.

“Not really.”

Reaching for my bag, I checked for my cell. I had to text Yvette and let her know I was okay. The security cameras would’ve caught the part where Pube Face grabbed me, but after that, we’d been out of the loop. I should at least give her that peace of mind.

Before I could even open a message, Chaser snatched the cell away from me and tossed it onto the dash. A second later, the butt of the gun smashed into the screen, and the entire thing switched off.

“Hey!”

“You can’t be Sloane anymore,” he said. “Sloane is gone.”

“You can’t just

“I can,” he snapped.

“Sloane is the only person I know how to be.”

He glanced at me out the corner of his eye and grunted.

“What?” I pouted.

“While you’re with me, you’ll do and say as you’re told.”

“I’m not your fucking slave!” I exclaimed.

“It’s for your own safety, sweetheart.”

Don’t call me that.”

“You’ll do and say as you’re told,” he repeated. This time more firmly.

“Then?”

“Then you are your father’s problem.”