Page 66 of Queen of Anarchy (Dirty Broken Savages 2)

24

River

I haveno idea how many hours have gone by since Julian and my sister left the basement, just that it’s probably still the same day Julian abducted me. Or night. Whatever. There aren’t any windows in this basement, and I drop in and out of an exhausted haze as the remainder of the drugs I was injected with work their way through my system.

Sometimes I don’t remember where I am when I come to, and then I look around and it all comes back to me in a flare of anxiety and shock and anger. Sometimes that’s enough to drag me back under and make everything go dark again.

I’m slumped in the chains, exhaustion pulling at me and making all my limbs feel heavier than they are. If it wasn’t for the chains, I’d probably already be in a heap on the cold concrete floor. I can’t get free. My body aches from trying. I can feel blood drying on my wrists and tears drying on my face from how hard I tried to get loose.

Julian will come back down at some point. I’m sure of it, although I still have no idea what he plans to do with me.

He promised Hannah he wouldn’t hurt me, but if he’s anything like his father, that vow won’t mean shit.

I spare a thought to hope he doesn’t make Hannah watch if he does decide to kill me. I don’t want that for her. Watching her die, or thinking that I did, has consumed me for the last several years of my life, and I want her to be free of that.

Thinking about Hannah gives me a little burst of energy, and I summon it up as best I can to go back to trying to get free. It’s harder now that I’m so worn out, but I don’t want to give up. I refuse to just give in without some kind of a fight.

Knox was right. I’m a fighter. It’s who I am, down to the very core of my being.

I think I might be starting to make a little progress on the shackle holding my left wrist, but before I can get too far, the basement door opens again. I look up so sharply that my head spins, and my stomach twists itself into knots as Julian comes into the room.

He has a gun in his hand, and as the door closes behind him, he trains it on me. His grip is steady, and his aim has the barrel pointed straight at my chest.

Fuck. I guess that answers the question about whether he plans to kill me.

I take a deep, shuddering breath, expecting this to be it. He’s going to fire at any second, stealing my life with a single bullet. I almost want to close my eyes, but I refuse to give him the fucking satisfaction of seeing me cower, so I stare directly at the barrel of the gun instead.

The seconds seem to stretch out forever, but he doesn’t do anything. His finger doesn’t move on the trigger. My heart pounds so loud I’m sure he can hear it. I’m sure he can taste my fear in the air, but he still does nothing.

Then he moves toward me. Instinctively, I flinch away. He doesn’t say anything, just starts unchaining me from the wall.

My arms fall down, heavy and sore from being held up like that and how hard I was struggling to get away. I don’t know what’s happening here. Is henotgoing to kill me?

Julian steps back, still keeping the gun aimed at me. “Move,” he says, jerking his head toward the stairs.

Dread pools in my stomach, because moving a captive to a new location rarely ends well for them. Maybe he’s planning to take me somewhere else and murder me there so he won’t have to deal with getting my body out of his house later.

I think about trying to fight him off and make a run for it, but I decide to wait. Acting too fucking rashly was what got me into the situation in the first place, so I need to be smarter than that now. My limbs are still prickling and half asleep from being chained up, so I should wait until I’m steadier on my feet. If he drives me somewhere, maybe it’ll just be the two of us. Maybe he’ll get cocky and underestimate me like so many men have done before, and I can use that to my advantage, finding an opening in his defenses.

Rather than trying to hide how exhausted and beat to fuck I am, I lean into it, shuffling my feet and hunching over a little as Julian ushers me toward the stairway with his gun still aimed at me. If he thinks I’m about to collapse, that will be better for me when the time comes to fight him off.

I hear him behind me as I make my way up the stairs, and when I glance surreptitiously over my shoulder, I see that although he’s sticking close, he’s put enough distance between us that I couldn’t reach him if I were to try fighting back right now.

Definitely smarter than his dad. Maybe Lorenzo’s death taught him a few important lessons about keeping his guard up.

Hoping I can lull him into letting his guard down, I allow my head to droop even more as we reach the top of the stairs and emerge in a hallway.

“That way. Go.”

Julian gestures down the hall, and I start walking in the direction he indicated, glancing around to try to get the lay of the land a little bit.

“In there.”

Still speaking in short, blunt commands, Julian indicates a room at the end of the corridor. I can’t tell if it leads to the entryway or a garage or what, but I’m assuming he’s taking me to his car.

But I’m wrong. As I round the corner, I find myself stepping into a small living room. A couple of Julian’s guards are posted against the walls, and in the middle of the room are…

Gage, Ash, Priest, and Knox.

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