Page 2 of Sabotage

Ryann’s mine.

CHAPTER ONE

RYANN

“Daddy, please, help me,” I cry, reaching for him.

Only he’s not there. He’s never there.

“Please, Daddy, I need your help,” I shout, tears streaming down my face.

“Your daddy can’t help you this time, Ryann. You’re mine, and this time you aren’t getting away.” The sinister voice laughs.

“Who are you?” I scream, shrouded in darkness. Spinning around, all I see is darkness. There’s no light. None.

“You know who I am.” The laughter stops, and a hand grabs me by the throat. “You know who you are to me. Mine. My slave. I’m your Master, and you’ll do your best to listen. You know the consequences if you don’t.” That hand tightens, squeezing, and I feel my life seeping from me just like . . .

I bolt upright, panting for breath, and look around only to feel the color drain from my face. This can’t be right. Nothing around me looks familiar. The walls are dirty, and there are bars on the windows. My breathing increases rapidly as I glance down to see the damp floor and mattress beneath me.

I’m definitely not in my room. I try my best to remember what happened to me and how I got here. I remember going to the store. It was my day off, and I wanted to get a few things we needed at the house. Nevaeh and Maverick were gone for off somewhere together, and it was about time. I knew Maverick had a thing for her and her the same for him. So, I went to go stock up on what we needed. Afterward, I decided to grab something to eat on the way home and . . .

Oh god, the wreck.

Someone had run me off the road. I tried to keep my car from swerving, but I couldn’t and hit the ditch. I don’t remember anything after that. Not until waking up here, wherever here is.

My stomach plummets as a bad feeling seeps in like ice freezing my veins. The last time I was in a room like this . . . I squeeze my eyes shut, not wanting to remember, but that memory never leaves me. I’ll never be able to forget the times I wished for death when held captive and raped by a man who wanted to use us all as breeders.

For the past two years, I’d done everything in my power to put it all behind me. I refused to let it beat me. I wasn’t giving him or anyone else that power.

No.

Yet here I find myself again.

It’s all I can do to control my breathing, as I’ve learned to do, especially in the past year. With everything I needed to know, I was going to be able to move forward, but only with the right state of mind.

I also wanted to be in the right head pace to be able to have the one thing I wanted most.

Well, not a thing, but rather a who.

Sabotage.

I didn’t care he was seventeen years older than me or that his daughter was the same age as me. All that mattered was the way he looked at me. The intensity in his gaze always had a way of making me feel like I’ve got butterflies fluttering in my stomach. Not to mention the thick hair and beard that he pulls off incredibly. The bonus is the few speckles of silver at the sides.

Okay, so some might say I’ve got a daddy issue because he’s so much older than me, but it’s not the case. The man is seriously just that good-looking. Add into the mix that’s all him, the way he uses his mouth and tongue. Oh, and that tattoo that runs the length of his right arm and on his chest. He’s seriously hot and makes my insides melt.

Any time he’s around, I want to launch myself at him.

About a month ago, I’d gotten drunk at the clubhouse with my friends, who are ol’ ladies of several of the other members of the club. I ended up in his bed, and it was amazing, every part of what we shared. He didn’t hold back with me. He’d given me everything I needed him to give throughout the whole night.

Then morning came, and the way he looked at me, I just knew he regretted it. So, I brushed it off like it wasn’t a big deal. It hurt. I mean, it seriously hurt making it out to be nothing more than two friends hooking up. I wanted to stay with him. To keep on keeping on with what we’d been doing.

Unfortunately, we didn’t. I got dressed and left. I still saw him around. He didn’t hide away, and neither did I. We just didn’t really speak much.Before that night, though, I shared some of my past with him. He knows I’m from Florida. He knows I have a family, a brother, a mom, and grandparents, and he knows that my dad died in a wreck.

One very similar to the one I was in. I had been in the car with my dad that night. He just picked me up from Florida State, where I was going to school on a sports scholarship for softball. I used to have a wicked fast pitch, not so much anymore. The plan was I was coming home for the weekend to help my dad and brother throw a surprise party for my mom. We didn’t make it there. A truck ran us off the road, and we went through the guardrail down into a ditch. Dad died on impact, or that’s what I want to believe, but I looked up the details online of the accident not long after the club saved us. They mentioned he’d been killed by a shot to the head.

According to the papers, my brother and mom were still looking for me. I couldn’t bring myself to let them know I was alive. I figured it was best they didn’t know. I mean, technically I’m not the same anymore. Or I don’t think so, at least.

The sound of a door creaking open catches my attention and pulls me out of my thoughts. I look in the direction to see a man who I recognize almost instantly.

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