Chapter 23

Rachel walked into the cozy cafe, her thoughts still consumed by Jaxon. She closed her eyes for a brief moment, remembering the feel of his calloused hands on her skin and the warmth of his breath against her neck.

A familiar voice called out, “Rach, over here!”

Daphne waved at her from a table by the window. Rachel wove through the tables and chairs until she reached her friend, giving her a quick hug before sliding into the seat across from her.

Rachel set down her cup, her coffee now cold and forgotten. “I was surprised you wanted to meet her.”

“I’ve got something to tell you!”

Rachel’s brows knitted together. “What is it?”

“I’m pregnant! Can you believe it? A little Daphne or Slick running around…”

“He’s going to be stoked. Do you wanna know what I’m doing today?”

She cocked her head. “Please tell.”

Daphne’s eyes lit up with excitement. “A tattoo!”

She had never considered getting a tattoo before. The idea seemed so foreign, yet...appealing. A permanent mark to symbolize her devotion to Jaxon.

“I know a great tattoo parlor downtown,” Daphne said. “We could go there right now if you want.”

Rachel glanced out the window at the gloomy sky, steeling her nerves. “Let’s do it.”

The rain was pouring down in sheets by the time they left the coffee shop, the cold seeping into Rachel’s bones. Her anxiety spiked at the thought of getting a tattoo, but she steeled her resolve. This was for Jaxon. She would endure any pain for him.

After a harrowing drive through the storm, they finally arrived at the tattoo parlor. Rachel’s heart hammered as she walked through the doors, gripping Daphne’s hand like a lifeline.

The tattoo artist, a burly man covered in intricate tattoos himself, greeted them with a friendly smile. “Welcome to Ink Roses Tattoo Parlor. What can I do for you ladies today?”

Rachel took a deep breath and squeezed Daphne’s hand. “I’d like to get a tattoo.”

“Wonderful!” The artist rubbed his hands together. “Did you have a design in mind?”

Rachel described the tattoo she envisioned: two red hearts intertwined with green ivy. The red and green represent the passion Jaxon had brought into her world.

“A beautiful design,” the artist said. He sketched a draft on the parchment for her approval.

Rachel’s eyes welled with tears at the sight of it. “It’s perfect.”

“Have a seat and we’ll get started.” The artist prepared his tools, the buzz of the tattoo gun filling Rachel with trepidation.

She sat in the chair and extended her arm, glancing over at Daphne for support. Daphne smiled encouragement. “You’ve got this.”

The first prick of the needle sent a spike of pain through Rachel’s arm. She gritted her teeth, clutching the armrests. You’re doing this for Jaxon. The pain will be worth it.

With every pass of the needle, she thought of Jaxon. His kind eyes, his warm smile, the way he made her feel cherished and alive. The pain began to fade into the background, overshadowed by her love for the man who had captured her heart.

When the artist finally finished, Rachel gazed in wonder at the tattoo adorning her arm. Two red hearts intertwined with green ivy, the symbol of her eternal love for Jaxon Jones.

Rachel and Daphne stepped outside the tattoo parlor, sunlight warming their faces as they emerged from the dim interior.

“We can celebrate with margaritas!”

Daphne pointed to her stomach. “Pregnant, remember?”

“Oh yeah, then mocktails!”

They headed to Daphne’s car.

Just as they reached the car, a black van screeched to a halt beside them. The doors flew open and three men leapt out, grabbing Rachel and Daphne.

Rachel screamed, terror flooding her senses, but a meaty hand clamped over her mouth. She scratched and bit at her captor, panic overwhelming her usual need for control.

Daphne was putting up a fight too, kicking and punching, but the men easily subdued them both. As Rachel was dragged into the back of the van, she caught a glimpse of Daphne, her eyes wide with fear.

The doors slammed shut, enveloping them in darkness. Rachel pounded on the walls, screaming for help even as rough hands pinned her down.

Her heart raced as the van accelerated forward. Where were they taking them? She struggled against her captors, but she was no match for their strength. All she could do was pray for rescue, her new tattoo burning on her arm like a beacon, calling out for Jaxon through the inky blackness.

Rachel refused to give up hope. Jaxon would come for her. She knew it in her bones.

The van swerved around a corner, sending her tumbling across the floor. Her shoulder slammed into something hard, pain exploding through her arm. She bit back a cry, not wanting to give these bastards the satisfaction.

The van finally slowed and came to a stop. Doors opened, light flooding in, and rough hands hauled her out.

She squinted against the glare, taking in her surroundings. An abandoned warehouse, crumbling brick and broken windows. And Jaxon - oh thank God, Jaxon was here, fury etched into every line of his face.

Her heart nearly burst with relief even as confusion filled her. Why was Jaxon here? How had he found them so fast?

But as her eyes adjusted to the light, she realized with dawning horror that it wasn’t Jaxon at all. This man was a stranger, tall and broad, his cold eyes glinting with menace. Her stomach dropped, icy fear flooding her veins.

“Welcome,” the man said. “You’ll be staying here for a while.”

Rachel renewed her struggles, panic threatening to overtake her, but escape was impossible. They were well and truly trapped.

She exchanged a terrified glance with Daphne, who was pale and shaking, her eyes wide with fear.

The man stepped closer, reaching out to grasp Rachel’s chin. She jerked away, but strong hands held her in place.

“Feisty,” the man purred. “I like that in a woman.”

Revulsion rolled through her and she spat in his face.

He backhanded her so hard her head snapped to the side, pain exploding across her cheek. “You’ll learn respect, little girl.”

She surged forward, slamming her forehead into his nose. There was a satisfying crunch and a howl of pain. Blood gushed between his fingers as he clutched at his face.

The men holding Daphne let go, rushing to help their leader. Daphne stumbled back, grabbing Rachel’s arm. “Come on!”

They ran for the open doorway, heart pounding. If they could just make it outside, get help...

A gunshot rang out, the bullet whizzing past Rachel’s head.

“Stop right there,” the man snarled, pistol aimed at them. His nose was a mangled, bloody mess, eyes blazing with fury. “You’ll pay for that, bitch.”

Rachel and Daphne froze in their tracks, chests heaving. There was no escape, not now. They were well and truly at this psycho’s mercy.