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Savage by Julia Evans (51)

 

I paced back and forth in the basement, wondering if escape was actually possible. They seemed so confident that it wasn't, that they didn't even bother to tie me up. I had taken off the duct tape from my mouth and tossed it away. Screaming for help would only bring the bikers down to beat me some more. I had to play this one smart. I peeked up the stairs at the old wooden door and didn't even spot any locks. If they were just going to kill me anyways, wasn't escape worth try?

 

I removed my flats and ascended the stairs barefoot, making sure to step lightly. I didn't even make it two steps when Pain opened the door and caught me in the act. He was grinning and carrying a bunch of ropes in his hands.

 

“Trust me, trying to escape isn't worth it. There's plenty of men up there that will gladly shoot you and send your pieces to your brother.”

 

“Going to tie me up after all?” I replied, stepping back into the basement.

 

“We're going to have a little fun.” His smile stretched all across his face as he pulled the ropes taut. My heart jumped into my throat. I wanted to run for it but there was no getting by Pain. He was too big and strong.

 

I shook my head and backed up into a corner. “Please don't do this,” I pleaded with him. The thought of being forced against my will on this cold cement floor made me want to puke.

 

“It's not what you think, Emily.” Pain produced a bulky Polaroid camera from behind his back. “We need to send some pictures to your brother. I promise I'll only keep you tied up for the photo shoot.” The look in his eyes told me differently. He stared at my breasts under my shirt with x-ray vision.

 

But I didn't have much say in the matter. Pain might have been one of the better bikers but I had no doubt he'd beat me senseless if I didn't follow the rules. “Go ahead and tie me up then.”

 

Pain grabbed my wrist and pulled me up the stairs. “Not here. We're going to do this in my room. We don't want Byron to think that we're treating you poorly.” He dragged me along, out of the basement and into the bar. It must have been early in the morning but the place was filled with bikers drinking and fucking prostitutes on the pool tables. I watched as one of the women moaned, being choked hard by the fat guy that hit me the day before. My hand felt my sore cheek that was surely all black and blue.

 

I followed Pain up another set of stairs and came to a bedroom with only a queen-sized bed and a desk. Pain closed the door behind us and threw the ropes onto the bed. “Is this where you force yourself on me?”

 

Pain almost slapped me across the face. “You sure got a mouth on you. I don't like to hit women but I will if I need to.”

 

“All you bikers are the same,” I murmured to myself.

 

“Your brother must beat you around a lot. You probably deserved it. Now sit down on the bed.”

 

He didn't know how right he was. Byron was overprotective to the point where it was always my fault. His hand crossed my face more times than I wanted to remember. Sometimes he let one of his “brothers” deal out the punishment if I ever got out of line. If the Devil's Hellions ever give me back to him, Byron is going to unleash hell on me.

 

Pain grabbed the ropes and tied my hands behind my back, making sure the rope dug into my wrists. “If this is just for show, why do they have to be so tight?”

 

Pain tightened the ropes further until my wrists almost snapped. “I want him to see the discomfort on your face. It will make it more believable.” Pain breathed in deeply sniffing my hair. I almost gagged. He grabbed a roll of duct tape and tore off a piece with his teeth. He placed it over my mouth, carefully making sure not to get any of my hair stuck.

 

Pain stepped back away and looked me up and down. “It just need a little more.” He grabbed my colorful top and pulled it down, ripping it in several places until one of my black bra was exposed. He stared down at my cleavage, his finger tracing the top of my mountain peaks. The burning desire in his eyes was evident and his touch felt so good. The thought of him taking me all tied up on the bed awoke a passion in the pit of my stomach.

 

Pain broke away and fiddled with the Polaroid camera. My blood was screaming in my veins, telling me to let him have every inch of you. Good thing my mouth was taped shut, otherwise I'd be telling him to fuck me silly.

 

Pain put the camera to his eye and stared through the viewfinder. “I need your eyes bigger. Make it seem like you're in grave danger.”

 

Pain snapped away, the camera spitting out Polaroids onto the ground. I felt like a dirty model where the photographer would ask at some point for me to take my top off. I would have done it if Pain asked.

 

Pain put the camera down and bent over to pick up some of the developing pictures. He waved the Polaroid through the air until it came into view. “Looks perfect,” he said, showing me the photo. This was the first chance I got to see myself since they kidnapped me. My hair was all over the place and dark makeup ran down my eyes from crying so much. The photo would definitely get Byron's attention.

 

Pain ripped off the duct tape from my lips and untied my hands. My wrists felt a little raw but they'd heal.

 

“So why is your MC doing this?”

 

“Doing what?” Pain asked, placing the ropes on the desk.

 

I tried to fix my hair as best I could without a mirror. My makeup was a lost cause. “Trying to get after Byron. What did he do to you guys?”

 

“The Fires of Hell want our territory. We're striking first. Hoping we can come to an agreement before our MCs shed too much blood.”

 

I laughed. “And you think he's going to give up everything for me?”

 

Pain looked me in the face, his dark eyes staring into my soul. “I would.”

 

“Do I have to go back to the basement?” I asked.

 

Pain collected the rest of the photos. “You can stay in my room until the trade. I need to get these to Blaze and then delivered to Byron. You might be here for a little while longer so get comfortable. And don't try anything stupid. All those bikers downstairs are armed and I don't want to see your bullet-ridden corpse bleeding all over the place.”

 

After he left, I ran to the bathroom to relieve my bladder. Those sadistic fucks probably wanted me to piss myself down there in the basement. I looked around the sink and medicine cabinet for anything that could be used as a weapon. Pain was good to me but who knows what the others might do. The drawers were filled with all sorts of women's products. Makeup of all different kinds and tampons. How many women did Pain bring up here?

 

I rubbed the mascara off that had run down my face and reapplied my makeup with whatever I could scrounge up from the drawers. I stared at myself in the mirror for what felt like days. Could I get out of this situation alive? Even if I did, was Byron the one I wanted to go back to?

 

Guns scared the hell out of me. Byron used to take me shooting out in the desert with his biker friends before the MC days. I got pretty good with a pistol—could hit a empty can from twenty yards away. But that wasn't the same as pointing it at a human being and firing. I checked the magazine and saw that it was hollow. Even an empty gun could be used effectively.

 

I sat down on the edge of the bed with the pistol on my lap. My fingers traced the cold steel, running along the barrel. I listened hard for footsteps outside the door. I needed to take Pain by surprise. Maybe use him as a hostage to escape this hell. But there were so many armed bikers downstairs. Even if I got away, a storm would follow me wherever I went. I'd be looking over my shoulder for the rest of my life.

 

A creaky floorboard outside the door brought me to attention. My finger wrapped around the trigger as I raised the gun. The blood was thumping in my ears, my hands shaking. The doorknob turned and the door slowly opened.

 

Pain walked in and his eyes burst open. “What the fuck are you doing, Emily?”

 

I tried to keep the gun steady, remembering what Byron taught me. Breathe, Emily. “You're my ticket out of here, Pain.”

 

Pain smirked and let out a little laugh. He stepped forward, paying no attention to the gun pointed at his chest. “You think I'm scared,” he said. “You don't have the balls to shoot me.”

 

“Don't test me, motherfucker! I'll fucking kill you if I have to.” My voice cracked as I yelled. I wasn't the most convincing.

 

Pain took another step forward until the gun was only inches away from his chest. He was right though, even if the gun was loaded, there was no way I could kill someone. Like lightning, his hand came out of nowhere and smacked the gun right out of my hands. It went flying through the air, spinning and landing on the desk where it belonged.

 

Pain jumped at me, pushing me down onto the bed. “I should whip you for that.” His eyes were dark and full of rage. The full weight of his body was crushing me and his face was only millimeters from mine. I tried to squirm out of his grasp but he had me pinned right where he wanted. My chest heaved up and down, begging for any air my lungs could get a hold of.

 

He glanced down at my parted lips and I knew exactly what he wanted. I wanted it even more. Kiss me. Kiss me god dammit!

 

Pain heard my invisible pleas and pressed his mouth against mine. Everything fell away. The horrible frat party, the kidnapping, the biker nightmare. It was all gone. Only Pain and I were left.

 

 

 

 

 

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