Page 4 of Taken By Her Two Savage Bikers
Chapter 2
It took well over an hour, give or take, from the time I was abducted to manage it, but after a fair amount of wiggling and contorting myself into positions I never imagined I could get into, I eventually managed to get the damn hood from my head. Next to go was the tape around my wrists. A few more squirms and grunts later my hands were in front of me and I was gnawing at the tape like a fucking rabbit until my mouth and lips tasted of adhesive, but I was free. Sitting up in the seat I noted that the bearded one was driving while the scruffy guy sat in the passenger seat.
“I have to pee.” I didn’t, but if I could get them to stop then at least I’d have an opportunity to escape. I’d searched every option of escape from the cab, there wasn’t any. In my search, I discovered I’d torn the acrylic nail off my left index finger, the break dipping deep into the quick. It was throbbing like a bitch and for some odd reason I kept banging the tip of that finger on things, each time I banged it, it would send a surge of pain up my finger and hand.
“Piss your pants.” The one with the scruff replied. That was the first either of them had spoken since I was taken.
“That’s disgusting. I’m not pissing my pants.” Fucking animals.
“Suit yourself.”
“Asshole.”
The chuckling up front let me know they’d heard. “If it makes you feel any better, we’re only about ten minutes from your new home,” the scraggy one stated.
“Where’s that? Where are we?” I was fairly new to California, coming from New York just last year, so I wasn’t overly familiar with the state.
“Come on Gabriella, you know where we’re heading. Or at least what’s going on right now. Stop with the games and accept the situation.”
“Gabriella? Who in the hell is Gabriella? What are you talking about?” It suddenly occurred to me that they’d kidnapped the wrong person. Maybe if I pointed out there error they’d let me go. “This is a big misunderstanding. I’m not Gabriella.”
The one with the scruff turned his head and eyed me. I noticed he had the most stunning blue eyes. “Not sure why you’re playing this game, but it’s stupid. How about you shut your fucking mouth and sit tight? Good job on getting the hood off by the way.”
“Check my ID. I’m not this Gabriella person. My name is Lola Hastings. Check my ID. Do you have my purse?”
He raised a brow at me. I had to admire the shine in his eyes. They were so vibrant that it was almost hypnotic, making him seem less sinister than he undoubtedly was. “So you have ID in your purse saying Lola Hastings. Well, good for you. Doesn’t change the fact you’re still Gabriella. We all have fake ID sweetheart. Nice try though. So how about you just sit there and shut your piehole. Besides, we don’t have your purse, we have what we wanted – you. It’s most likely still on the side of the road.”
“You’re an asshole and an idiot,” I spat before I even realized the words were out of my mouth. I expected an angry retort, but instead he chuckled and turned back in his seat. “Do you buffoons have any idea how much a genuine Gucci handbag costs?”
With a sigh, I flopped back into the seat, crossing my arms over my chest. That was a genuine Gucci handbag – and it was just sitting on the side of the road for some scavenger to snatch it up. And all my ID. Oh my God. Credit cards… Not like I had a shit ton of money to steal, but identity theft is a real thing.
I also had another problem. The realization that I did have to pee for real now struck me. Fuck my life twice over.
“Shouldn’t you be stopping to put the bag over my head again, so I don’t see your secret hideout?” I hissed. Though as I said the words it struck me that they may not care because they had no intention of me ever leaving. Were they going to kill me? They did say I owed the club. With my life. Oh my God! What kind of crazy hell had I fallen into?
My heart accelerated and I had to fight off the panic threatening to overwhelm me. I’d seen enough thrillers and true crime shows to know that panicking wouldn’t do me good in this situation. I needed to keep my head and take in my surroundings in case I could get away. I had to be smart.
Blue eyes chuckled and looked over his shoulder at me again. “It’s not a worry, we’re too close to the safe house now. You’re really going to play this I’m not Gabriella Romero scenario out, aren’t ya?”
“Because I’m not her!” I screamed, my hands balling into fists and punching at the grate dividing me and the men in front. “I’m not fucking her. Just let me go and I’ll never say a word of this. I’ll forget it never happened.”
A shot of pain rippled up my arms. Looking down at my knuckles that had made contact with the grate I groaned, seeing the gashes from where my knuckles had made contact, blood trickling down my fingers from the gashes. My damned temper was going to be the death of me. Bringing my knuckles to my lips I licked at the wounds; the last thing I needed was a damned infection by wiping them on my dirty clothing.
“But we can’t let you go, that’s the problem we have and why you’re back there. Your old man should have known it was going to come to this when he refused to take responsibility and make things right. Scratch that; before he started this war. Why he let you out on your own, unprotected, just shows what kind of fool he is.”
“You guys have phones. Check Lola Hastings on the internet. I have a Wiki page. I’m a model – from New York. It’ll prove it to you.”
“Fuck, finally here. As amusing as the whole modeling story is, if she talked for much longer I was going to stop and duct tape her fucking mouth shut,” the bearded one behind the wheel said as he turned the truck onto a heavily wooded dirt road.
Where in the fuck were we going?
The truck kept moving down roads and up roads. It was like a damned maze, though it appeared we were moving up a mountain. From time to time I’d see a small house with what looked like farmland in the barely visible distance. And that smell. Just faint, but I could definitely smell cannabis. Were these people drug dealers?
After what felt like a lifetime, we finally came to a halt in front of a large cabin. Leaning forward in the seat, my eyes narrowed as I stared at the building. After a moment I caught sight of a small emblem made of steel over the front door that read Road Justice MC Club.
A motorcycle gang… Shit. So they thought I was someone who knew them already. Fair enough. The head of some other club must have done something and now they were getting revenge by kidnapping his old lady – me. Okay. They’d figure it all out and then let me go. It’d be all right…
No harm no foul right?
