Page 3 of Sabotage

“Well, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes,” he says and leans against the door frame, smirking down at me.

“What do you want?” I demand, not letting him scare me. Not this time around.

“Don’t worry about what I want, Ry-Ry, I’ll get that soon enough, but I figured it was time we got reacquainted.” The way he says this sends a shiver of trepidation down my spine.

“I’m good on the reacquainting, Roy,” I sneer, his name a bad taste in my mouth.

Unlike Peyton and Nevaeh, I wasn’t taken and sold the same way they were. There was a broker who took them and sold them. For me, it was Roy. Roy was an ex-boyfriend who I broke it off with in high school. He didn’t take it well and became stalkerish. Or he tried to until my big brother stepped in. Ryland, yep, our names definitely rhymed. I blame my mom for it, he and his friends beat the shit out of Roy and forced him to back off.

Ryland is five years older than me and used to be extremely protective. When he was eighteen, he joined an MC, he had a thing for motorcycles, maybe that’s why I loved them myself. Also, my dad was a biker at heart, though he didn’t belong to any club. He just rode every chance he had. He did, however, have friends in the club Ryland joined, so we’d go on weekends to cookouts.

I knew the club’s name and knew the Toxic Warriors were friends with them.

“Why am I here, Roy?” I ask him.

“Considering I saw your face on a site saying you were up for auction, I couldn’t let that happen, not this time around,” Roy remarks, shrugging his shoulders and tucking his hands in his pockets. “I wanted you to suffer the last time, but since you somehow managed to get away and ended back up for auction, I figured I’d keep you this time around.”

“Ugh, I don’t think so,” I snap, getting to my feet, a bit wobbly at first. Once I have my footing under control, I meet Roy’s gaze with a glare. “You aren’t keeping me.”

“Ry-Ry, you should know me by now. When I want something, I always get it.” He laughs and steps closer.

“You should have learned your lesson when Ryland kicked your ass all those years ago,” I say sarcastically.

It’s been only two years since I was rescued. Before that, I was with ‘Master’, who in turn bought me from Roy after he held me captive in a room very similar to this for a year and a half.

There’s no way I’m going to let him keep me here. I’ll find a way out.

“You bitch,” Roy growls, slapping me with the back of his hand with enough force to cause me to stumble backward. “You would think you’d have learned your lesson repeatedly by now.”

“Yeah, well, I don’t pay attention to jacked-up lessons very well.” I spit out the blood as I sneer back at him.

With him stepping closer to me, I realize he’s left the door to the room wide open. If I can make the right move, I might have the chance to get away from him. But I’ve got to time it right.

Unlike Nevaeh, I wasn’t taking boxing lessons, but that didn’t mean I didn’t take a self-defense class Milo and his partner, Jasper, offered.

Roy steps deeper into my space, looking ready to grab for me. Instead, he gets a knee to his groin. As he doubles over, I bring my knee up once again and knee him in the face.

There’s no wasting time to relish the joy of this. Instead, I rush around him, ignoring his pained shouts, and run like hell. Outside the room, I dart down a long hall into a bigger room. There’s a rusted old door cracked open, and the sun is filtering through. Hearing Roy coming, I rush for the door and out into the daylight.

My heart races as I look around, recognizing where I am, and swallowing the fear threatening to choke me. I know exactly where I am, and the only place safe for me is just up the road. It almost feels too easy, escaping Roy like this. He made it so I could get away. Regardless, right now, I don’t care.

My only thought is getting to the only place, the one person who can help me right now get back to where I belong.

Sweat runs down my face, and I feel the blood caked to my face from the wreck still sticking to me. My body hurts more than ever. I want to just find somewhere to rest, but I’m nearly there.

Roy had brought me back here, right outside Tallahassee. The only reason I recognize where I am is this is the abandoned industrial park where my dad brought me to learn to drive.

It’s also about a ten-minute drive to the motorcycle club my brother is a part of.

On foot, it takes a lot longer than ten minutes. It’s even longer with the need to stay out of sight. There’s no way I’m about to let Roy, as dumb as he is, get a hold of me again.

By the time I reach the gates that have the club’s emblem on the front, I’m exhausted and more than ready to pass out.

“Can I help you?” a guy roughly my age asks from the other side of the gate.

“Ryland. I need to see him,” I say weakly.

“Babe, don’t know anyone by that name,” he states, furrowing his brow as he takes in my appearance.

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