Page 3 of Sire: On Your Knees

I glanced at Ria over my shoulder.

She grinned happily. "Works like a charm every time. Come on, take what you can."

She rushed to the front door to let Rico in, and we ransacked the place, taking anything that had value. Mir had money lying around all willy-nilly, along with hella jewelry, electronics, and anything else you could think of. His lifestyle screamed entitlement.

I was the last one in the bedroom, clearing what was left, when I heard the door open, and then a loud booming voice called out to Mir.

Seconds later, I heard, "Who the fuck are you?"

"Rico, nigga, this is for my sister." Seconds later, I heard gunshots.

My heart stopped beating as terror froze me in place. I was in the closet and figured I should stay there, but I realized that it would be stupid. I had to get out of here. I rushed out, heading toward the bedroom door. I checked the hallway and saw it was empty. Since it was so quiet, I took that as a sign that it was safe.

I made it to the living room to see Mir still slumped on the couch. There was a gaping wound in his midsection, gushing blood.

"No... no... no." I rushed to him, looking frantically for something to stop the bleeding. Running out of options, I usedmy shirt. I began to panic, trying to do what I could. This was not a part of the plan.

My head popped up when I heard thundering footsteps that grew louder the closer someone got to the living room. Unsure of what to do, I whispered an apology to Mir and tried to take off. My hand landed on the handle of the sliding door, but it was locked.

Before I got the chance to unlock it, that voice froze me in my tracks. "Where do you think you're going?"

Icouldn't see anything. The thick fabric I felt covering my eyes kept me from doing so. This made my racing heart the loudest sound in the room other than the steady drip of something nearby. Because there wasn't any heat in this dank and musty room, chill bumps rose on my arms, and I developed a slight shiver. I'd never been this afraid in my life. I was most certainly about to die.

A door opened nearby before heavy footfalls grew louder until they stopped near me. I could feel the heat of another person and prepared myself for whatever came next. The blindfold was snatched off, revealing a nearly dark room. There was only a dim swinging light hanging from the ceiling. I nearly stopped breathing when I noticed a table that was lit up and filled with what I assumed to be torture devices. I'd never been in this position before, so I didn't know specifics, but I knew it all looked like it was created to do serious harm to a person.

Before I could see who'd entered the room, I could smell him. I paused as the tonka bean and oud notes of cologne instantly jerked me to a moment in the past. More specifically, it was the only time I'd come across this scent. This had to be the man who'd bumped me in the club.

I gulped down a mouthful of air, drying out my throat. The boots thudded closer, causing me to lift my eyes. A six-foot-four and two-hundred-sixty-pound menacing man stood over me with a deep scowl on his face. He had bulging arms that looked like they'd helped a man meet his maker. His complexion appeared to be a toasty brown. I'm pretty sure there were intricate black tattoos covering his hands that were folded in front of his body and snaked up his corded arms.

The swinging light made it difficult to see much more, but his energy was enough to drain the color from my face. I was even more terrified, feeling the waves of authority rolling off him. This nigga looked like he killed people for fun. This would not end well for me.

"Sir, this is all a big misunderstanding," I began to explain. The slight tremor in my voice couldn't be hidden. Bound in an unfamiliar place was not the time to be tough. I had to leave here on my own two feet, not in a body bag or worse. Chopped up into pieces seemed like a much worse fate.

"So, you weren't trying to rob my brother?" I gulped down the bile attempting to project out of me. I was so fucked. When I chose to keep quiet, he spoke again. "That's what I thought. Tell me where your friends ran off to."

I looked up at him and was only met with shadows and sharp features. This man was not fucking around with me. He could kill me in an instant with those muscular arms that bulged out of his rolled-up sleeves. I tried to think of a response and realized honesty was the only option.

Tears welled in my eyes as my confession flowed out of me like water. "I don't know. I swear I don't know." Before I could stop it, I began sobbing. "Please, don't kill me. I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry. Please, don't kill me. I don't know where they are."

My pleading fell on deaf ears as my captor paced in front of me. "See, I have a problem with that. Your friends ran off withsome valuable shit. Something very important to me that cannot be replaced. I want it back, so you better tell me what you know."

I shook my head. "I swear I don't know where they are. It's not like we talked before they fucking ran off and left me." I tried not to think about Ria's abandonment. There were shots fired in the living room, so who knows if any of those bullets hit her. "They could be dead for all I know."

He squatted down so that we were eye to eye. All I saw was a pool of emptiness in inky, down-turned eyes. I wailed, realizing he was going to kill me and not think twice about it. His warm breath fanned across my cheek in even spurts the closer he inched to me. "For your sake, you better hope they're not dead. For what they took and what they did to my brother, I want to be the one to end them."

"Is he dead? You're going to kill me? Please, don't kill me, sir. I made a mistake. I just wanted some money to pay my bills and start my cleaning business. I had nothing to do with choosing who the target was. I don't even know your brother." I was sobbing uncontrollably now.

His facial expression never shifted. I'd finally hammered the last nail in my coffin.

"You should've thought about that before going along with your little plan. If my brother dies from the drugs or the gunshot wounds..." He balled his fist repeatedly to channel his rage. Finally, he stood to his full height. "I don't find value in killing people. You will work for me. I own you until your friends are found and my property is returned."

His words knocked the wind out of me, and my heart plummeted. "Yo-yyooou ow-ownnn meeee? What does that mean?" I wailed. "I will find them for you if you let me go."

He shook his head. "No, you will do as I say." His voice was sharp like a whip, causing me to snap my lips shut. "You will tell me every place they would potentially go, or I just might endyou." He shrugged. "It depends on how I feel in the moment." Without another word, he turned and walked away.

The door on the far wall slammed behind him and shook the walls on impact. I shivered in place with a million thoughts racing through my mind.What did he mean by owning me? What would working for him consist of?As the roar of a motorcycle sounded outside, I knew whatever the answers were to my questions, they wouldn't be good.

I'd really fucked around and gone too far this time with my risky choices. Being tied up in a basement was not on my bingo card, yet here I was, about to face a consequence that was sure to change everything. If I even made it out of this alive...

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