Page 23 of Brage & Dinah

Chapter 9

Long after the roomupstairs in the Slag Motorcycle Club clubhouse fell silent, Dinah gave up on yelling for help and sat on the floor, pressing her back against the door. Going from the noise earlier that vibrated and penetrated the room, Brage had somehow locked her in.

The door wouldn't budge.

Bending her legs, she braced her elbows on her knees and cradled her head with her hands. If this was some kind of joke, she hated Brage's sense of humor.

The man went from perfect to being the first on her shit list.

Being locked inside a room wasn't her idea of fun. She also wasn't a fan of the He-man attitude. She had enough of her older brothers trying to strong-arm her to ever put up with that kind of attitude from someone else.

Her brothers.She jumped to her feet and dug in her back pocket for her phone.

"Shit," she mumbled, seeing the new crack in the screen.

Ignoring the damage, she connected with Tony's number and held the cell to her ear. On the second ring, she paced the room.

The recorded message announcing the number had not set up voicemail played over the phone. She disconnected the call, and sent Tony a text, begging him to reply. The moment the message was sent, it hit her that Brage was upset about where she'd gone today.

He must've seen her meeting her brother. She knew Moroad MC was after Slag. The reason why wasn't shared with her. She only knew Tony had screwed up, again, and she'd wanted to help him.

Today, her brother had made it sound like his club would kill him if he failed to get the information they needed on Slag.

And, now Brage knew about her connection to Moroad. What would that mean for her?

She couldn't call 911 because Brage could rat out Tony for being in Portland. The judge could force him back into prison for breaking the rules of his release.

She exhaled loudly. The moment Brage returned, she'd explain her way out of the tight situation.

In all honesty, she would rather deal with Brage than Tony.

Brage only knew her body. She could lie her socks off and even have sex with him to get out of the room. Whatever he wanted to hear, she'd say it.

Then, once her feet hit the sidewalk outside the gate, she'd take off and leave. Her brother would have to fend for himself.

Her eyes burned, thinking of leaving everything she'd ever known behind. Raised by her brothers was always unconventional. Not a day had gone by that she wasn't reminded of how inadequate she was because of something out of her control.

Childhood friends were forbidden to come to her house because their parents were afraid of letting Brad and Tony around their children. Her teachers questioned her safety at home. High school counselors interrogated her, believing she was abused, both sexually and physically because of the people who frequented her home. There were rumors going around the town of an underaged girl being around bikers as if she was personally responsible for inviting the Moroad members to her house when they came to talk with her brothers.

Used to no one believing her, telling the truth no longer mattered to her. People would believe what they wanted, and she stopped fighting to be understood a long time ago. It was probably why she couldn't remember anything before the age of six years old. She'd told too many lies, creating a life for her that was opposite of what she'd lived.

So, if Brage wanted to question her. She was ready.

As if she conjured him into arriving by thinking about him, noise came from the other side of the door. She turned in the middle of the room. Tony wasn't around to help her. She was on her own.

The door opened. Brage filled the doorframe.

"Come on," he said.

She hurried out of the room, adrenaline filling her. He could keep his reasons for the shitty treatment and shove them up his ass. She was leaving.

He grabbed her arm and turned her from heading toward the stairs. "You should use the bathroom. Keep walking straight, take the turn, and it's the third door on your left."

She peered over the railing to the main floor of the clubhouse. There were Slag members downstairs, gathered in groups around the tables.

"I don't want to use the bathroom. I want to leave."

"That's not happening." He widened his stance and looked down.

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