I heard the door slam not too long ago. I’ve been hiding in my room ever since the run-in with Garrett, trying to slow my heartbeat. The worst bit is that underneath all that fear I’m trying to hide…there’s something else. Something darker that wanted him to squeeze, that wanted that anger I could see controlling him.
That wanted to see just how far I could push him…and how far he would take it.
I’m fucked up.
Pushing off the door, I stagger into the bathroom, ripping off my clothes. I didn’t shower earlier. I had fallen back asleep, but with the feel of Garrett’s hand still wrapped around my throat, and the smell of sweat and man coating me, I need to.
I need to wash it away, the way I felt in that moment. I wasn’t scared to die, I wasn’t even scared it would hurt…I was scared I would never know how it felt to feel all that power.
To get revenge.
Fuck.
Slipping into the shower, I scrub my body, ignoring my traitorous pussy, who seems way too interested in these snakes. Once I’m done, I feel slightly better, and after drying off, I find my way back into the wardrobe and slip into an old, holey, AC/DC t-shirt. One of my favourites, my comfort shirt. Then I curl up in the perfect bed. Ryder was right, they made the room so it looks like my tantrum never happened. Though I poked the mirror in the bathroom and realised it was coated so as not to shatter.
Smart man.
I want to hide in here forever, but that’s not my style. I still want to be free of these men, and to do that, I need knowledge. Knowledge is power. No one else is coming to help me, and the world doesn’t give a shit. It doesn’t care if I’m a good person or a bad person. Fuck, I’m not even sure which I am anymore…maybe somewhere in the middle.
So, on bare feet, I slip out into the apartment, pressing my back to the wall where they can’t see me as I eavesdrop. “You think he’ll be okay?” Kenzo drawls, his voice distinctive with the warmth he infuses in it.
“Yes, he just needed to get it all out,” Ryder replies, his tone cold.
There’s a sigh and some shifting. “Do you ever wonder if it wouldn’t have been kinder…”
“Stop right there,” Ryder snaps. “He’s our brother, his demons are our demons. He survived, we do whatever it takes to ensure that he stays that way.”
“You’re right,” Kenzo agrees, but sounds sad. “I just wish there was something we could do. I feel useless watching him struggle.”
“This is his battle, not even we can help him this time. Only he can, he must decide to keep going. He’s been in limbo ever since it happened, just living. I have a feeling that having Roxy here will shake that up. Force him to face it once and for all,” Ryder murmurs.
“Y-You knew that when you brought her here, didn’t you?” Kenzo snaps, angry now. “You might be smart, Ryder, but sometimes you’re a fucking bastard. He’s our brother.”
“He is!” Ryder growls. “I’m trying to save him!”
“You are trying to control everything, like always!” Kenzo yells. “For once, stop trying to be in charge, just be there for him. That’s all he needs, not your fucking experiments. We aren’t another one of your challenges to conquer, we are your family. I swear, Ryder, sometimes you remind me of—”
It goes quiet, and I can almost feel the drop in temperature, and when Ryder’s voice comes, it’s deadly, dark, and oh so cold. “Say it.”
“Of Dad!” Kenzo finishes. “You do, I love you, brother, but you get more like him every day. I’ve spent my life fighting to not be like him, but sometimes I wonder if you don’t think it’s just easier to give in. Remember what happened to him, brother, don’t end up like him.”
Peeking around the corner, I see Kenzo disappearing upstairs. Ryder is standing in the kitchen, his head hanging as he presses his fists to the worktop there. “One, two, three, four,” he murmurs. “One, two, three, four.”
He repeats it again and again, until I see his body calming, once more hiding behind that ice. When he pushes away from the worktop, he straightens, once again in control. His face is cold as he buttons up his suit and heads out the front door.
I try to dart after him, to escape, but a hand clamps over my mouth and I freeze, my eyes going wide as my heart slams and my breathing picks up. A mouth meets my ear, the smell of smoke and petrol wafting to me.
Diesel.
Fuck, they all warned me to stay away from him, and now Ryder is gone, Garrett too, not that they would save me. Even Kenzo is gone. It’s just me and the crazy, psychotic Viper.
“Oh, Little Bird, I caught a little bird,” he murmurs, licking my ear. “Tut, tut, eavesdropping like that, naughty little bird. Do you know what they get?”
I shake my head, my gaze locked on the opposite hallway, not daring to turn in case it triggers him in some way. True fear pounds through me. This man doesn’t follow the rules. He kills for fun, tortures for laughs. Wants to see me squirm, to see me suffer. I don’t know what to do, how to act around him. After all, prey always recognises a predator, and Diesel?
Diesel is all predator.
Unpredictable and consuming everything in his path, like the fire he loves so much. Even now, I can smell the cigarette on his breath, his hand rough like it’s covered in burns as he presses it harder to my lips, pushing it painfully into my teeth.
“Punished.”
I freeze as he laughs, pulling away from me as suddenly as he came. I spin, my hand going to my heart as he strolls down the corridor, the click of his lighter loud as he flicks it open and closed.
Fuck.
I really need to stay clear of that man. Something tells me he’s going to be my death. I need to escape before he decides to stop torturing me and just go for the kill.
Because right now? I’m being hunted.
Four hungry vipers are slithering closer, wrapping tighter and tighter, their dark coils shining in the light as they prepare to strike.
And I’m in the middle.
After my run-in with Diesel, I decided to hide in my room, not wanting to be caught alone with him again without any of the others there. They might not stop him from hurting me, but I think they would stop him from killing me.
At least at the moment.
So I did the only other thing I could—sleep. This time, I had no nightmares though, well, not of my past. Instead, they were of tattooed knuckles running up my thighs, dark eyes peering up at me, and when I jerk awake in the morning light, I’m covered in a sheen of sweat. My pussy throbs, and my thighs are soaked with my own wetness.
Groaning at my own mind losing it and betraying me in my sleep, I glare down at my pussy. “You do understand they stole us, right? As in they stole us and locked us up?” I snarl, before heaving up and heading to shower again. Stupid fucking vagina, it doesn’t seem to care that they bought us.
Or that they probably plan to kill us. She’s a hussy and is all like, yes, but they are hot. Bastards. I mean, yes, they are hot. Attractive would be an understatement, they all look like statues of Greek gods. Perfectly carved with abs that don’t come from sitting around all day. They work hard to be the best at everything, and that clearly includes being the best looking.
It’s not fair and has my hormones all confused. I hate them, I do. I want to kill them…but also kinda want to screw them?
Brilliant.
After washing, I brush my teeth and cleanse my face, screw those bastards. I ain’t putting makeup on for them, but I do brush my hair before slipping into some tight black skinny jeans—my favourite ones with holes and tears all the way down, showing off my tattoos—and pairing them with my loose Harley vest, which I tuck in at the front. There, I’m sort of presentable in case I manage to escape.
When I open my bedroom door, I find my boots outside and, honestly, I nearly cry as I yank them on. “I missed you,” I tell them, stroking the matte black material as I lace them up and tuck in my jeans. I always feel better with what Cook calls my ass kickers on.
Fuck, Cook.
I hope the bar is okay. I wonder if anyone even cares that I’ve disappeared?
It’s not like I have anyone who’d notice, other than some staff and people who drink there all the time. They are probably more bothered that I can’t pour them some drinks and have to find somewhere else to go.
Feeling stronger, I head down the corridor, déjà vu hitting me when I find them all sitting at the breakfast table. Do they do this every morning? I slip into my chair from yesterday. Garrett doesn’t look at me, but I see one of his eyes is black, and when I look at his busted, blood encrusted knuckles on the table, he yanks them underneath.
His shirt is a V-neck, showing off those scars I saw yesterday. They were horrendous, he must have suffered so much pain. Endured so much. How is he alive? They looked like strips of his skin had been torn away and sewn back on, creating mottled flesh. My heart actually hurts for him.
From what I’ve heard, something clearly happened to him. But what? And why does that make him hate women?
I look away, not wanting to trigger him again. Ryder is reading the paper, also ignoring me, wearing the only suit he has left, which makes me smirk. He must notice because he raises his eyes before narrowing them slightly at me. “Eat, you didn’t yesterday.”
“Worried I’ll starve to death?” I scoff.
“There are much more interesting ways to die.” Diesel grins at me, sucking a sausage from his fork as he chews, leering at me.
Looking away, I watch as Kenzo fills my plate again, passing me a coffee without asking. I decide to do as Ryder orders, not because I’m being good, but because I’m actually hungry. And it can’t be poisoned or they would all be dead.
I eat it so fast, my stomach actually hurts. Shit, I forgot how much starving hurts when you eat again. Sipping the coffee, I sit back in my chair, pulling my knees to my chest to try and stop the ache.
“Today, you will stay with Kenzo again,” Ryder informs me, as he sips from his tiny teacup, folding the paper and placing it on the table. “Garrett, you and I need to make some visits. We’ll bring you back a present, Diesel…no breaking it. Just play, a reminder.”
Diesel perks up, his eyes almost blazing as he smirks. “Fuck yes.”
“I mean it,” Ryder warns, and Diesel rolls his eyes but nods.
“Then I need to go downtown, it seems I’m in need of more clothing.” Ryder sighs, and every eye turns to me. I smirk, sipping my coffee. “I will also grab you some items, Roxxane.”
“I don’t need your fucking charity clothes,” I snarl, sitting up.
Ryder looks me over, judgement in his eyes. “You’re wearing rags, a Viper does not wear such…attire.”
“Good job I’m not a fucking Viper,” I snap.
His lips turn up at the corner. “No, but you are a guest. You will represent our business and family, even when you are simply in the apartment. This isn’t a negotiation.”
“What? Want me to take my piercings out as well?” I laugh. “Not good enough for your sanctimonious ass to rape?”
He snarls then, leaning forward. “Be careful what you say, Roxxane, very careful.” Then he blinks, and he’s back to being ice-cold. “No, you may keep your piercings, you do look beautiful without the makeup, by the way, but I find myself seeing it as you without war paint.” He laughs.
“Good, ’cause there are some piercings that aren’t so easy to take out.” I shrug, and all eyes are back on me again, wondering. “You will never fucking find out.”
Diesel laughs. “Don’t be so sure, Little Bird.”
Garrett looks away again and gets to his feet, holding himself stiffly as if he hurts. “We should get going.”
“Indeed.” Ryder sighs and stands, looking over at me again. “I would say behave, but I don’t think you would listen. Know that Diesel will be here this morning.” He almost smirks, fucker, he knows that means I’ll behave so the crazy bastard won’t come near me.
I take my coffee and, with one last glare at them, retreat to my room. No way am I putting myself in the path of that pyromaniac. I’ll actually listen to them for once and stay away. Shit, this is getting boring though. All I’m doing is sleeping and hiding.
I thought I would be free by now.
I’m coming to believe I’ll never be free again. I’ll die here, at their hands.
I stay in the room as long as I can. I get so bored, I count the steps it takes to get everywhere before flopping back on the bed. It has to be hours later when I finally can’t take it anymore, I’ve never been one to sit still. Hell, I’ve worked nearly every day since I was sixteen. First to pay off my dad’s debt back then to Rich before he hired me on fully, then to make him proud…and then to keep my bar afloat.
I find myself missing it, not knowing how to switch off. So I open the door a crack and look out, peeking each way to make sure Diesel isn’t standing right outside to pounce on me. When nothing moves, I slip into the hall, sliding my feet across the cool floor to make no sound as I head to the end of the corridor.
Once there, I look around the corner to see if the living area is empty. Kenzo is outside again, on the phone, pacing back and forth. Diesel is just heading out the front door, and I see my opportunity.
They all think I’m in my room.
My heart pounds as I rush across the space, sliding my foot into the door to stop it from closing and locking. I bite my lip to hold back my cry as it slams my foot between it and the frame, tears filling my eyes. Fuck, that hurt. I duck behind the door, peering around it, watching as Diesel waits for the elevator. His usual lighter is at his side, flicking open and closed again until the steel doors open and he gets in.
Leaning down, he lights a cigarette, the only reason he doesn’t spot me as the doors start to slowly close. So fucking slowly. Glancing over my shoulder, feeling panic, I see Kenzo hanging up. Fuck, it’s now or never. Slipping out the door just as the elevator slams shut, I ease the door closed.
I’m free.
I’m fucking free!
Well, of the apartment, but that’s a whole other matter. I try the elevator, but there’s what looks like a scanner there, and it lights up red when I try, fuck. Okay. There’s a door at the end of the hallway with a fire exit sign. Hell yes! Racing to it, I slam it open, holding my breath in case an alarm sounds. When it doesn’t, I relax a little.
Not too much, I still have to get out of the building. I don’t know where I’ll go when I’m free, it’s clear I won’t be able to go back to my normal life, but that’s a matter for later. Racing down the steps with quick feet, I’m so excited, I almost trip and fall. Gripping the railing, I fly down them as fast as I dare until I come to another level and a door.
It’s locked, so I try the next floor and the next. Down and down I go, each and every door locked with a scanner. Fuck, am I going to be trapped in their stairwell? I go past something marked for the next level, which is labelled B1. Basement maybe?
My chest is heaving, my lungs screaming at how fast I ran, and adrenaline coursing through me. Shit, I’m out of shape. There’s no scanner on this door, and my eyes widen. Hell yes. I rip it open, almost crying in victory when it actually slams back. Rushing forward, I abruptly halt in my tracks, crouching behind a post next to the door which extends into the ceiling. It’s a fucking parking garage. Shit, that means there are probably cameras.
Looking up, I spot them just like I thought. They seem to be rotating, so I count how long it takes to revolve before looking for an exit. There’s one at the top of a ramp with a shutter. But it seems there is only a button to get out from this side. I smirk. They weren’t expecting people to try and get out, or if they did, they didn’t expect them to get this far.
Looking back at the cameras, I watch them sweep again before bursting from behind the pole when they turn away from the ramp. Thirty seconds, that’s all I have. I race past fancy cars and bikes and empty spots, pushing myself harder.
Twenty-eight.
Fuck. Pumping my arms, I lower my head and sprint up the ramp, panting heavily.
Twenty-five.
Looking around, I slam my hand on the button. Nothing happens. Again and again, I do it.
Twenty.
Shit.
There’s a slot below it for a card or a scanner. Fuck, fuck, fuck! I scream, slamming my hand into it. I was so close. My head jerks around, there has to be a door, a pedestrian exit or entrance, right?
Fifteen.
There’s a booth. I’m nearly out of time, so I push the door inwards and look around for a key, a card, anything. There’s a computer and a row of keys hung up at the back. Not much else. I rip open doors, kicking the chair away.
Ten.
Fuck. My hands scramble through the shit in the drawers before searching the keys on the wall.
Five.
Mercedes, Ferrari, Harley, my hands start to shake in fear that I won’t find any.
Three.
No.
There’s nothing here.
I’m trapped.
Two.
Fuck.
One.
I crouch just as I hit thirty, peeking over the edge of the desk to look through the glass to see the camera aimed back this way. Crouching, I wait for it to pass. That’s when I notice it—a crowbar under the desk. Hell yes.
Glancing up again, I spot the camera sweeping away, and I dart from the booth. Kenzo will probably check on me soon, and if he finds me gone, he’ll put this whole place into lockdown. I need to be gone before then.
Pressing the crowbar at the base of the shutter, I throw myself into it. All my weight and strength from carrying barrels of beer. But it doesn’t so much as move. Screaming again, I look around. Think, Rox, think. The keys! Fuck, maybe I can smash my way out of here?
Running into the booth, I pick the closest one and head back into the parking area. I hit the fob button, hearing a beep, but I don’t see the car. Pressing it again, I spot a silver Merc at the end lighting up. Nice, screw these Viper bastards.
They are rich, they can replace it.
Using the posts, I duck behind them when the camera comes back around. It’s slow going, but I eventually make it to the car. Crouching, I open the door, a soft click echoing through the structure as I slip inside. Okay, okay.
Looking around, I find a start-stop button and press it, the car revs to life, the engine purring as the dash lights up. The fucking rich pricks. Smirking at how pissed they will be when they find out I stole one of their cars, I put it in gear and stomp on the gas. Squealing comes from the tires as I peel from the space, knocking into some other cars as I go.
Whoops, not sorry.
Racing at the shutter, I take a deep breath. Please let this work. With one hand on the wheel, I click my seatbelt in, knowing if it doesn’t work, it’s going to fucking hurt.
I force my eyes open, my heart in my throat as I race towards it. I’m near the base of the ramp when an alarm sounds, lights flashing as it gets louder. A cranking starts and my eyes widen when barriers begin to rise from the floor, cutting off the ramp.
No, no, no.
But it’s too late, they are too high and I’m still barrelling towards them. Screaming, I smash onto the brakes, the car fishtailing as I try to avoid the crash. I slow down, but it’s not enough, I hit the barrier. My head jerks and smashes into the window, making me groan. My neck is thrown into the seatbelt, cutting off my air supply for a moment as the airbags explode.
Fuck.
Head ringing, pain racing through me, I unlock the seatbelt with fumbling fingers and kick open the door, sliding onto the ground. Holy shit. That was so close. My heart is tripping over itself, and my stomach is rolling. Leaning on all fours, I suck in desperate breaths. When I feel more calm, I stagger to my feet.
The whole right side of the car is scratched from hitting the barrier. But it’s fixable. There’s a crack in the driver’s side window from where my head hit it. It makes me angry, and it pours through me as I scream it all out. I was so close! So fucking close! And now, now I’m stuck here.
Where I’ll die.
I don’t know what comes over me, everything is too much. I’m powerless and out of control and can’t help it. Scarily calm, I walk over to the crowbar I dropped and pick it up, holding it like I do my bat. I feel blood dripping down my head, but I don’t care. Walking back to the car, I swing the crowbar and bring it down on the hood.
It feels good, really good, as the sound of crunching metal fills the air. The hood dents, so I do it again and again, ruining the perfect expensive toy. I smash in windows, laughing as the crash fills the air. I beat the car so good, lost in my own world. I need more, I need to get it all out.
Scrambling onto the bonnet, I bring the crowbar down repeatedly, screaming as I do. I climb to the top of the car, standing on the roof as I smash everything I can reach. My arms feel like lead, and I drop the crowbar. It hits the ground with an audible clunk as I heave in breaths, my body covered in sweat, my head aching from the hit, and my back and neck sore—but it was worth it. Seeing the destruction I wrought, I can’t help but laugh.
Take that, you Viper bastards.
That’s when I hear clapping. Whipping my head up, I lock eyes with Diesel and Kenzo, who are standing about ten meters away from the car, just watching me. Kenzo is rolling his dice through his fingers with a smirk on his face, while Diesel’s clapping.
“I bet you she wouldn’t make it.” Kenzo smirks at him as Diesel stops, his face lighting up as he watches me.
His chest is bare, a few tattoos covering the golden skin, and he’s ripped. Way too ripped. Shouldn’t crazy people be worse looking? But no, he looks like a fallen angel. Gold hair and all, which is tied back in a ponytail. “You did, man, that was hot as hell.” He nods to me and then looks at Kenzo. “Isn’t she amazing?”
Just then, the door into the basement rips open and Garrett and Ryder stride in. They freeze when they see me standing on top of the ruined car with Kenzo and Diesel just watching me. Diesel whistles, winking over at me.
“Ooh, you’re in trouble now, Little Bird.”
Fuck.
Ryder’s face is thunderous as he steps closer. His shirt is wrinkled, and his suit jacket is thrown haphazardly on. “I was pulled from a meeting to see this…” He narrows his eyes and looks to Kenzo. “Explain,” he barks.
The man shrugs. “Sorry, bro, she somehow snuck out. When I realised, I searched the cameras and saw her in the basement in your car. I hit the alarm, and the barriers must have stopped her.”
“Then?” Ryder prompts, gesturing to me on top of the car.
“Then she started beating the shit out of your car, screaming something about snakes and assholes,” Diesel offers wistfully, almost dreamily.
I did?
Wait, Ryder’s car?
Oh fuck.
The man looks back at me with cold eyes. “Get down now,” he orders.
I swallow, but he must see me about to open my mouth, because he steps closer still, each movement controlled. “Now. Do not make me come up there.”
I jump from the car, crunching as I land, jarring my aching head. I know he means business, especially when he grabs my arm and drags me away. I struggle in his grip, swearing, but he ignores me as he hauls me over to the elevator and smashes his hand on the scanner.
It opens, and he throws me inside. I slam into the wall, the breath knocked out of me as I turn to see him step inside before smashing his finger onto a button. We start to rise, and I watch him carefully. His eyes are dark, those emotions melting the ice there. His hands are shaking, balled into fists, and it’s clear he’s close to exploding.
So what do I do?
Push him.
Maybe it’s because I’ve accepted that I’m going to die here and never be free again, and with that acceptance has come a certain bravery to see how far I can push them. It’s crazy, but I can’t seem to stop.
“Nice car.” I smirk.
His movements are jerky, and I flinch back as he bangs his fist onto a stop button. We shudder to a halt, throwing me forward, right into him. He catches me, his hand going around my throat as he tosses me back into the elevator wall, making me cry out at the pain it causes.
“Do not push me, love,” he snarls, right in my face. My heart is pounding, and he must feel it against his hand because he squeezes my throat, letting me feel all that power. The strength and emotions he hides behind the ice.
This man is deadly, a Viper, and I just poked the snake, and now he’s ready to strike.
To bite.
And I’m the mouse.
But yet again, my mouth opens. “Why not?”
He leans closer, letting me see those eyes which are now on fire. Fuck, how did I ever think he was cold? He’s an inferno, a wildfire. It burns everything in its path, and right now, that’s me. But the thing is, I would gladly burn, and I don’t even know why.
“Because I won’t be gentle like Kenzo. I won’t even make sure you like it like Diesel. I will tan your ass so hard that you won’t be able to walk, never mind sit. Then I’ll leave you in this elevator for everybody to see just how much you want us. How much you don’t hate us, even if you think so. You can fool yourself, but you can’t fool me, love. I will rip those barriers to shreds, piece by fucking piece. I will have you on the edge, nearly coming from my punishment alone, and leave you for everyone to see…to see how much you want it. The very people you claim to hate.”
“I don’t want you,” I snap, tipping my head back and meeting his eyes, but my thighs clench, betraying my truth, and he no doubt notices. Ryder notices everything and uses it against me. And he’s noticed something even I didn’t want to. I’m attracted to them, to my kidnappers.
That’s what stops me from speaking—the fact that he’s right and I hate him. I hate them. I really do, but I want them so badly it’s scary, and I’ve been trying to hide from it, taking it out on them. He smirks like he sees my battle and knows I won’t fight him anymore. Stepping back, he straightens his suit, hiding behind that coolness again. His hands stop shaking as he presses the button to get us moving. “Last warning, Roxxane—do not push us. We have been kind so far, now? All bets are off, you are about to see what the Vipers are really like, and you only have yourself to blame. You’re fair game now, little prey, better run.” He winks. “You’re a business deal, love, but now you’re about to become our toy.”
The door opens, and he steps out, meeting the eyes of the rest of the Vipers waiting there. Shit, how did they get up here so fast? He smirks at them, ignoring me still pressed against the wall, breathing heavily, hating him, hating myself. But at least the blood from my head has stopped.
“D, she’s yours for the rest of the day. Let’s show our little brat here what happens to those who betray us, who test us,” Ryder orders, his icy eyes still locked on me. Only when he turns away do I start to breathe again.
Holy fuck.
I thought Ryder was ice, an unfeeling snake. I was so wrong. Under it all is a swirling tornado of emotions barely being held in check. I glimpsed it in his eyes, felt it in his hands. He’s so close to exploding and raining down destruction, I don’t think he even knows how close.
The others currently don’t, but I do now. He’s ready to break, to snap, and when he does…who will be alive to tell the story?
