Page 84 of Property of Spike

“I think it’s time you learn a lesson in obedience,” Chuck sneers, his foot slamming into my stomach so hard I nearly throw up.

I try to fight back, to move, todosomething. Anything. But there’s no chance, no opening, no mercy.

So, I close my eyes.

I force myself to picture my family. My baby boy, Asher. My love, Spike. All of my new friends.

Abby, Tank, Skip, Maverick, Knuckles, Crusher, Mike, Foster… and even Bones.

Although, if I’m being honest, he still scares me a little.

But right now?

Ihopehe’s the one who gets to Chuck first.

Eventually, the pain fades, even though the blows keep coming. My body feels weightless, floating upward, drifting further and further away.

I’ve finally died.

What a crappy way to go.

I wasfinallyhappy. I had someone who actually loved me, who wanted me. And now I’m being ripped away before we even had a chance to build the life we dreamed of.

I won’t get to see Asher grow up. Won’t hear his laugh, won’t hold him close when he’s scared, won’t get to wipe away his tears or cheer him on when he takes his first steps.

He’ll never know his mommy.

I can only hope and pray that Spike gets to him before Chuck poisons him. That my son grows up surrounded by love, with a real family, with good people.

Please, God, don’t let Asher turn into Chuck.

The faces of my family fade, swallowed by the darkness as I drift higher.

Everything is quiet now. Peaceful.

***Chuck***

“Take her to the old warehouse on the outskirts,” I say, rolling my shoulders as I shake out my fists. Damn, I haven’t had a workout like that in a while.

Three officers –myofficers – exchange a quick glance before nodding. They know better than to question me.

“What about the cameras?” one of them asks, stepping forward. “We can’t have this getting out.”

I snort. “Already taken care of. Footage will be wiped before anyone can even think about looking for it.” I glance down at Riley’s limp form, my lip curling. “Now, get her the fuck out of here before anyone starts asking questions.”

One officer crouches, checking her pulse. “She’s still breathing.”

“For now,” I mutter.

She should be grateful, really. I could’ve ended her pathetic little life right here. But where’s the fun in that? No, I want her tosuffer.I want her to know what it means to cross me. To take what’s mine.

One of the officers grabs her arms, the other her legs, and they haul her off the ground like a sack of garbage. Her head lolls to the side, blood trailing from a gash on her temple.

I watch them carry her out of the cell and toward the back exit, a slow smirk spreading across my face.

She thought she could escape me. That she could run off with thatwannabe biker kingand play house. Thought she could take awaymyson?

Fucking stupid.

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