Page 129 of Second Chance Mates

When I turn back to the rush of people, something is wrapped around my neck, and I’m shoved backwards. I exhale a long scream for a hand to slap over my mouth. I kick and struggle against the weight that is pulling me away from the market.

“Shh, sweetheart,” they coo, but I don’t recognise the voice. “You’re not going anywhere.”

My teeth clamp around the flesh on their fingers to find the taste of their salty sweat on my tongue. Blood seeps into my mouth, and they hiss, dropping their hand for a second. “Ah. You fucking bitch.”

My body twists, and I step back as quickly as possible. I stare at the man I’ve never seen before. He’s huge, bulky. His arms are practically the size of his legs. I have two seconds to decide where to run before he catches me.

I don’t think. I run in the opposite direction.

The crowd of the market is still rushing by in heaps, not knowing which way to run. As I reach the end of the alleyway, I gulp when another man steps into view. “Nice try,” he snarls. “But you’re ours now.”

My head shakes vigorously. “Screw you.”

“Sure thing.” He grins before flashing me his gold-capped teeth.

I step back to find an arm being wrapped around my chest tightly. I gasp for air as I watch the guy in front of me take out a syringe with the largest needle I’ve ever seen. My elbow wriggles from his grip, and I jab his ribs as hard as I can. The man buckles, and I lurch forward, breaking free. Without hesitation, I turn and punch him, using all the techniques Jax has taught me during training.

Blood bursts over his lips as he staggers into the wall, and I begin running.

Loud footsteps behind me make me cower. I have nowhere to go.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

My fingers tingle as I look between the pair of them, backing myself towards the stampede of the alley. “Get back here,” the man with the needle spits.

I push myself into the crowded market, only to be pulled back a second later. I release a loud scream, and my body’s instincts take over as I kick and struggle as fiercely as I can.

“Fuck sake,” one of them grunts before his fist lands against my cheek.

Pain explodes, and I slump until I see the syringe inch closer to my exposed neck. “Wait,” I cry and attempt to fight my way out of his hold. “No.”

He swings it directly into my neck, and I scream out in agony. “That’s it,” he whispers against my ear as he empties the syringe. “Go to sleep. You’re going to need the rest for what we’ve got in store.”

The next second, my entire body slumps. I stare at the man who watches my strength deteriorate. Suddenly, I start seeing two of him, my vision deceiving me. “Close your eyes.”

I fight. I fight as hard as I can to stay conscious, but my limbs won’t cooperate.

My eyelids fall heavy, and I hate my body for betraying me. I inhale a breath, but I’m completely numb. I slip through his grip to the floor, and darkness consumes my mind.

There’s an ache inside my skull that jolts me awake with a groan. I attempt to open my heavy eyes, but it’s nearly impossible. My entire body is numb, but the pain thumping against my head is very much alive.

I eventually pry my eyes open and glance around but don’t recognise my surroundings. My skin is littered with goosebumps as a light draft whips past my chest.

My hands are chained to a pillar with large metal clamps around my wrists. I lift my arm, but it weighs a tonne, and I have zero energy. I take a couple of deep breaths and try to regain my full consciousness—whatever they injected me with, it was strong.

I drag my tongue along my bottom lip, but it’s as dry as a desert. My throat closes, and I release a cough as I try to swallow. Instead, I start gasping. “Oh, fuck,” I murmur to myself, blinking through the fog that clouds my head. I need to get my shit together. I need to get the hell out of here.

The room is empty.

After a few moments of gathering at least two thoughts, I start tugging on the chains, but there’s no way I’d be able to break through them. I don’t possess that kind of strength.

No. No. No. No.

I shake my head over and over. This isn’t happening again. This can’t be happening. Tears build in my eyes, but I refuse to let them fall.

The door to the grimy room opens, and I twist my head to the sound, backing into the pillar. I stare at the woman as she steps inside. My heart stops in my chest. Her eyes level with mine, blonde ponytail swishing behind her like a runway model and bright red lipstick drawn over her mouth. Tanned skin. I’ve never seen her face to face, but I remember seeing her photograph.

I pale at the sight of her. Julia. Julia.

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