Page 22 of Hell Bent

Both men were dressed in denim. She could see the back of one of their jackets, and there was some sort of logo embossed on it. She could make out the colours, shades of green and black. Long chains hung from their belts. Their hands were adorned with clunky silver rings, and they smelled of pot and whisky. It permeated through the air, assaulting her nose.

One of the men stood sideways, staring out the front door. The second man leaned over the counter, speaking in a low tone. She couldn’t make out what he was saying. “We’re closed. I’ll have to ask you to leave.”

The shop was in a good area. They’d never had any trouble in all the years her family owned the property. Sway reached for her phone and saw the gun pointed at her head.

“Get over here,” the guy told her, pointing the gun at her.

Sway didn’t move as she stared at the gun. “I don’t want any trouble. You can have what’s in the register.”

“The money is ours one way or the other.”

“What do you mean?” she asked, taking her time moving closer.

“Get over here. Don’t make me shoot you. I’d hate to make a mess of you.”

Sucking in a breath, Sway stepped up to the counter, praying she’d live. “Okay, what else do you want?”

One second, she was staring into the barrel of a gun, and the next, her head was being slammed onto the counter. The man’s hand twisted in her hair, controlling her head. Tears welled up, but she refused to let them fall. If she was going to die, she’d do it silently. If they thought she’d beg, they’d be disappointed. As the feeling of cold metal brushed her face, Sway stared out the small window situated high on the far wall. The streetlamp illuminated fluffy snowflakes as they floated effortlessly in the air. Where was her stalker tonight when she needed him?

“Every month, we’ll be back. And if you don’t want to end up like your brother, or worse, you’ll pay up,” the man stated.

“Okay.” Sway felt the tip of a knife dig into her flesh right below her temple and she winced. “I swear, I’ll pay.” Shefelt the blade drag down her face. Her hands splayed out on the counter, trying desperately to keep herself still.

“Let’s go, man, there’s a car pulling up,” the other guy shouted.

“If you don’t pay us, I’ll cut more than your pretty face.” Sway’s head was released, and she shoved back from the counter, putting as much room as she could between her and the man. Her chest rose and fell as her heart pounded in her throat. She knew her eyes were full of fear, but they also were full of fire. Staring at the man, Sway waited for him to decide what to do with her.

Dampness trickled down her face, but she refused to wipe it away. She wouldn’t give them the satisfaction. The guy pointed the gun at the register and waved her toward it. Sway moved and opened it. Taking the cash out, she handed it over with a shaky hand.

“You should get your face looked at before it gets infected,” the man said, grabbing the money. He looked at the cash and laughed at the small amount. Then, he and his friend left, leaving her standing in the shop, riveted to her spot.Terrified.

Sway didn’t know how long she stood there with her back against the parts room door. The view in front of her was completely white with moments of dim light as it broke through the thick blanket of snow. The cold air sent chills through her. Her face stung and felt tight. Swallowing hard, she took a deep breath and moved from the spot. That’s when panic struck. With the storm blowing in, she thought the two men might return. Rushing around the counter, she shut and locked the door. Backing up, she turned and headed toward the back of the shop.

Ignoring the cars and bikes that needed to be worked on, she didn’t take the time to put things away or make sure things were cleaned up. Leaving the shop dirty and in disarray, she made her way to the back door. Shoving it open, the door slammed against the building as the wind ripped it from her hands. Stumbling forward, Sway rushed out into the clean, fresh air, panic-stricken. Grabbing the door, she fought the wind and snow to shove the thing closed. Struggling with the keys, her hands shook so badly, she barely managed to lock the door.

Snow covered the steep steps leading to the second-floor apartment. Her feet slipped on the damp steps, sending her to her knees. Her hand managed to snag the wooden railing, keeping her from tumbling down the stairs. Biting down on her cheek, Sway refused to cry. Instead, she pulled herself up and held onto the railing and the wall as she slowed herself down.

With every step she took, her feet and hands slipped. She could barely see as she managed the stairs. Sway realized she was on the landing when her body hit the top railing. Gripping the wooden beam, she felt along it until her hand reached the building. Patting the brick, her hands found the door. She had to hold a hand over her eyes to shield them from the weather so she could see the keypad. Keying in the lock code, Sway heard the lock disengage, then she felt the weight of the deep, wet snow as she forced the door open.

Shaking from the cold, she stumbled into the apartment. Pulling the door closed, she relocked it. When she turned around, Sway’s body slid to the floor. Wrapping her arms around her knees, she let the weight of the situation settle in. Thinking about what could have happened to her, herstomach pitched. Scrambling to her feet, she ran for the bathroom and barely made it to the toilet.

A noise coming from the living room had her staring toward the bedroom. Her heart pounded in her ears as she strained them to listen for any sounds. Hadn’t she locked the door? She couldn’t remember. Everything was a blur.

Shoving to her feet, she darted into the bedroom and grabbed the business card from her nightstand. Staring at the name and number, she reminded herself the Royal Bastards had been her brother’s friends. And Vicious had said he’d help her if she ever needed it. Looking at herself in the mirror that hung above her bureau, Sway knew she needed help. She heard the sound again coming from the front of the apartment and realized it was the ice maker. Pulling out her phone, she called the number.

Standing in his living room, Vicious listened to Player explain how Teller could not only remove him from the chapter but have him killed. This was nothing Vicious didn’t know. He knew the bylaws, knew who Teller was. He’d done his homework and looked into the brother. There was one thing Vicious knew one hundred percent, and that was three could keep a secret if two were dead. When you had information on someone, you told no one. Not even that person. Vicious managed to keep his head on his shoulders by keeping his mouth shut.

His phone ringing stopped the conversation as Vicious answered it. “Yeah?”

Sway tried to keep from shaking but failed. Hearing the man’s voice reminded her why she was calling him. “Vicious?”

“Who’s this?”

“This is Sabine. You gave me your card at the bar a week back.”

He heard the shakiness of her voice and knew something was wrong. “What’s wrong?”

“Two men came into my shop and hurt me. They left but said they’d be back. I’m afraid.” Covering her mouth with her free hand, she stilled her trembling lips.

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