Page 53 of Patch's Bride
I lift my leg to see what they’ve put on me, and the heavy chain clicks against the floor. Looking at the length of the chain, I might be able to move around four feet in any direction, but I’d never be able to get to the door.
“She’s off limits,” Lynch says. “Nobody touches her, or they’ll have to deal with me.”
“Not even a little?” someone calls out. “She looks like she’d be fun to mess with.”
Lynch’s expression hardens. “Not unless you want me to cut your dick off.”
That shuts them right up.
They go back to drinking, playing cards, and messing around with their women. I feel so damn sorry for the women, because I know they don’t want to be here. Patch told me they were all trafficked. And anyone can tell by their lack of enthusiasm and the eagerness with which they down alcohol that they’re trying to dull the pain. A few drift closer to have a look at me. Some even get close enough that I can smell the whiskey on their breath.
“Pretty little thing,” one mutters. “Bet she cries easy.”
“She already cried in the van,” another says. “She screams loud too. She’s got good lungs on her.”
A bottle cap hits my shoulder. Everyone laughs, even Lynch. So, they all take turns pelting me with small things. I see it for what it is—disrespect and intimidation, rather than a genuine intent to harm me. Someone throws an empty can in my direction. It rolls across the floor and hits my foot.
I don’t respond. And I make damn sure I don’t cry, because I get the feeling that if I do, they’ll like it and make it their mission to keep me in tears. Instead, I keep my eyes down.
Someone sticks a plastic cup in my hand. It sloshes over.
“Drink. It’s a party,” he says.
I shake my head. “No. Leave me alone.”
He grabs my wrist and forces the cup to my lips. “Don’t be rude, girl. We’re treatin’ you real nice.”
Only because he forces me, I take a sip. They cheer. I sit in the corner and pretend to sip the drink, because what else can I do?
***
The day stretches into night, and the party keeps going. By now I’ll be missed. Patch was expecting me at his office. And I’m sure his mom called him the moment I left, congratulating him on making our marriage real. The Savage Legion saved me and Lila when Vincent was holding us. I can only hope and pray that they’ll come through for me again.
More brothers arrive as the evening wears on. Some of them are with women wearing tacky, disheveled clothing. They look exhausted. Some of the brothers end up passing out. Others squabble over card games and end up fighting. Someone breaks a chair against the wall. Through it all, the music never stops. It’s like a wild frat party, only with grown men and women who don’t really want to be there.
When they lose interest in me, I make it my business to keep a careful watch on them. One catches my eye. He hasn’t had a drink since I got here. He doesn’t join the games. He doesn’t touch me. He stands near the back exit and keeps his phone in his hand. He looks at me once, and then his eyes dart away. He’s not loud and wild like the others. He worries me the most, because I don’t know what that means. What I do know is that he stays close to me all night.
At some point, they all fall asleep. They just pass out wherever they happen to be. I don’t sleep, though. This isn’t the kind of place where I can let my guard down.
Chapter 17
Patch
I’m staring at my phone, confused. I’ve texted Beth five times over the last couple of hours and got no reply. My mom called earlier, telling me how happy she was that me and Beth had decided to make a go of the marriage. That was around an hour and a half ago, Beth should be here by now. Her phone app says she’s wandering the shops in town at a leisurely pace. I scratch my head, thinking that maybe she’s just enjoying her day out and forgot about texting me.
The door to my office bursts open, and Siege barges in. My head spins around in surprise wondering what my Prez is doing here. “What’s up? Is something wrong?”
“You need to hear this,” he says.
He puts his phone on speaker and says, “Say that again. I’m with Patch right now.”
A low, rough voice responds, “Marauder here. One of the brothers loyal to me saw a van grabbing a woman off the highway near your office. He said she was young, blonde, and fought like a wildcat. Sounded like maybe it was Patch’s old lady.”
My blood runs cold, and I lower my cell phone.
Marauder keeps going. “I have men loyal to me in that club, even after Lynch took my club out from under me. This one didn’t like what he saw, so he gave me a call.”
When I step forward, Siege raises a hand to stop me. I freeze. Barely.
