Page 36 of Van

“I’m with you, brother.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Let’s find your girl,” he says, pulling his gun out and checking the ammo. I smirk at him. I knew he was ready for a kill, too.

“We’re headin’ out. My girl's ex took her. We’re gonna find her. We check every fuckin’ warehouse and abandoned house around here,” I tell the guys. They nod and grunt their agreement before we turn on our heels and head for the door.

We’re on the bikes and hauling ass around town, checking every location possible. I even check the old abandoned restaurant downtown. She isn’t there. She isn’t anywhere, and that isn’t sitting well with me. She has to be here somewhere. There’s no way he could have made it that far with her.

Even after all the goddamn searching, we had the meet to deal with. I wasn’t in the right head space, but I knew that shit needed to be handled, and we did just that. Mask knew I needed something else to focus on, so he decided an ambush was the right way to go about things.

He knew I needed to get someone’s blood on my hands, and they were the perfect targets. Trying to push into our territory was a huge no-go, and they learned the hard way at our hands. I got my hands dirty, I released some of my built-up frustrations, and we ended the little fuckers who tried to step foot into our world.

Chapter 16

Chyanne

I’ve watched the days on the calendar as they slowly pass. Day after day of the same things. Derrick makes sure he feeds me three times a day, and I have access to the bathroom whenever I need it. He even somehow got my blood pressure medicine. I suppose I should be grateful for that, but I’m not because days have turned to months, and I’m still chained to this bed. My stomach grows every day and the baby gets bigger with time. I haven’t thought much about what I’m going to name him. I’ve been focused on trying to get out of here. I’ve almost talked Derrick into taking this chain off, even though he hits me every chance he gets. I play the good girl. I play the part I need to play in order to keep things slightly calm around here. And that includes playing nicely with him even while my face is bruised and broken.

Derrick walks in, and I force a smile as he sets the plate of food on the table next to the bed.

“How was your day?” I ask him as if I give a shit. I don’t. I wish he’d die. I wish he’d never come back, but then no one would ever know I’m here.

“It wasn’t bad. I’m so sick of construction work.”

“You should quit. Find something else,” I tell him. He runs his hand through his hair before looking over at me.

“You’re in a good mood.”

“I missed you. It gets lonely here,” I tell him lies. All lies.

“You missed me?” he asks, cocking his head.

“I did. It’s lonely.”

“If you weren’t trying to run, I could take the chain off.”

“I’m not trying to run, Derrick. I just want to be happy,” I lie a little more. I couldn’t be happy with him. I never truly was. He’s abusive and has been since he kidnapped me. I never thought he’d be the type to beat on a pregnant woman, but I suppose I should be thankful he hasn’t hit me in the stomach.

“Happy? You’re not happy?” he asks, sounding as if he truly believed I was.

“No. I’m chained to a bed. I can’t cook, watch TV, or anything.”

“You want more freedom?” he asks. I nod my head.

“I would like to be able to cook and clean up.”

“If I let you do that, you won’t run?” he asks, seemingly thinking about it. He seems a little calmer today. I’m almost positive he’s been using drugs, and that’s the stem of the anger in him. I’ve noticed the difference in him, but I haven’t commented on it.

“I won’t run. How could I?” I ask, nodding toward my stomach. He nods his head before pulling a key from his pocket and kneeling by my feet. He unhooks the cuff, and I listen as the chain hits the floor. I blow out a breath of relief when he stands back up and grabs my face in his hand.

“You run, and I’ll make you suffer. I will make that baby suffer,” he warns me as his fingers dig into the bruises that already linger on my skin. I nod my head, agreeing with him. I plan on running. I plan on getting the hell out of here, but I don’t know how yet. I don’t know where we are, although I remember how we got here. I could make it back to the clubhouse. Van would help me. I know he would.

“I won’t.” Lies. More lies leave my lips, but it’s what he wants to hear, and I’ll tell him anything at this point.

“Good. I’d hate to kill you before the baby is born. We’re naming him Junior.”

“We haven’t talked about names,” I tell him as he releases my face and steps back a little.

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