Chapter 3

Ariana

3

Thankfully, they had left me a bottle of water on the dresser. I drank the whole thing before attempting to get some shuteye, then proceeded to toss and turn, struggling to get comfortable and turn my mind off. At around three in the morning, the noise coming from the clubhouse finally began to die down. The music became quieter, and footsteps shuffled about before motorcycles revved up and receded into the distance. At one point, I got up and glanced out the window. Only six bikes were left in the parking lot.

By sunrise, I am pacing the room again.

I have no idea of the time as the sun makes its way across the bright, blue sky. I'm guessing mid-morning; I doubt it's noon yet. I don't have my phone with me, and seeing that it's Saturday, nobody will even notice I'm missing—not until Monday, that is when I'm due back at work.

The TV works, but there's no cable. Just static. So, I sit on the window ledge and look outside, watching as some of the Steel Knights come back. They park their bikes in a respectful row at the front of the clubhouse. They smile and shake hands and seem happy to see one another, but there's a noticeable tension in the air. I can almost feel it.

I'm going to lose my mind.

Soon, the door to my room opens, and in walks my kidnapper with a tray of food and a couple of cans of Coke. He sets them on the dresser and then gives me a curious look. In this light, he doesn't appear as menacing.

"How'd you sleep?" he asks.

I look him over from head to toe, wondering whether I should play nice or just cuss him out until he leaves me alone. The jeans he's wearing hug his muscular thighs and give me a shameless view of a generously bulging crotch. He's wearing a black, sleeveless tee that reveals bare shoulders and arms covered in tattoos. I spot wolves and knights in shining armor, midnight forests beneath a full moon, and strings of text I can't make out from where I'm standing.

His ears are pierced, something I didn't notice last night. Three little steel studs in each lobe. His black hair is cut short and faded on the side. And those eyes of his, Jesus. They're like onyx pools that I might drown in if I'm not careful.

He raises an eyebrow at me.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I'm supposed to answer that?" I shoot back, crossing my arms. I try not to think about how he found me last night, but every time he looks at me, I'm reminded of the moment, and my face burns red. "How the hell do you think I slept?"

"It's a good bed," he replies dryly. "Memory foam mattress."

"Like that matters under the circumstances."

"It should. You might be here a while."

I can't help but scoff. The plate of food is looking more and more appealing, the smell making it hard for me to resist. So much so that my stomach decides it's the perfect time to start growling like a PCP-ridden gremlin. I can see a cheeseburger with a side of fries and a slice of cherry pie. The Coke would surely slide down easily right about now.

"Any word from my dad?"

"We haven't reached out to him yet," he says.

"Why not? Are you waiting for business hours to resume or something?"

"We'll reach out when we're ready."

I stare at him in utter disbelief. I'm pretty sure my jaw is about to hit the floor. "Wait, what?" I ask.

"There's a plan in motion, and we will run the way we see fit. As long as you're under this roof and our care, no harm will come to you, that I can promise. Unless you try to escape or hurt one of us, that is."

I let out a heavy sigh, and my gaze slips back to the food tray. There's no cutlery on it, just paper napkins. "Can you at least tell me your name?"

"Sky."

That's a strangely beautiful and unexpected name for an MC member. "Is it a nickname?" I ask.

"I take it you read that briefing about empathizing and fraternizing with your kidnapper when your father was sworn into office," Sky chuckles dryly. A dimple reveals itself on his right cheek, and I swallow that thought back with lightning speed. Those eyes, though. Like the night sky. Sky. Hmm.

I think the hunger is killing my brain cells, slowly but surely.

"Actually, I did not," I say, keeping my spot by the window. "I didn't think anyone would be stupid enough to kidnap me."

"Why not? You are a valuable asset in the hands of the right people," Sky says.

I shrug. "You give me too much credit."

"The mayor's only daughter."

"Yeah, you might be surprised at how far that doesn't get you."

He gives me a perplexed glance and says, "I'll be back later." Then he leaves.

I hear the key turning in the lock again, and dread returns tenfold, making it harder to breathe. Unfortunately for my self-esteem, I'm also starving, so I set my pride aside and practically inhale the food that Sky brought for me.

An hour later, I'm strangely relaxed. I'm not necessarily at peace with my situation, but I'm definitely in a better place. However, I still need to figure out a way to get out of here.

Rummaging through the dresser drawers, I find a long screw at the bottom of one of them that is coming loose. "Yes," I whisper and start turning it until it's out. I stare at it for a while, trying to figure out how I'm going to use it, then move over to the window.

Reaching between the bars, I'm able to open the window and let the warm summer breeze come through. My mind is all over the place, frustration toying with my resolve as I remember it's Saturday. Unless the Steel Knights reach out to my father, he probably won't even realize I'm gone. I should've made more friends. Then again, the few friends I did have turned out to just want to get close to the mayor through his daughter. Sky's words ring loudly in the back of my head.

The mayor's daughter.

A valuable asset.

A valuable asset to the Steel Knights, maybe because being Henry David's daughter has brought me nothing but disappointment. Shaking my head slowly, I try using the screw's sharp tip to loosen the screws on the iron frame around the window that holds the bars. It'll take a while, but I think I can get the screws out. Once that's done, I'll be able to remove the bars altogether and climb out the window.

Easier said than done.

What if my father doesn't cave into their demands? He has always put his career first.

No, Ariana, don't be silly. For all the man's faults, he's still your dad, and he loves you.

As I work on the window frame, absorbed in my thoughts, I eventually lose track of time.

When the key turns in the lock again, I'm startled and damn near drop the good screw out the window. I manage to put it away before the door opens, turning around to appear as harmless and as innocent as possible, but the guy who comes in isn't one of my kidnappers.

He's tall and lanky and appears to be in his mid-thirties, with shaggy light brown hair and blond stubble. He's covered in tattoos and piercings and wears those signature ragged jeans and a Steel Knights leather jacket. But his brown eyes seem kind and almost gentle.

"Who are you?" I ask, my tone clipped.

"Spike. I'll be your concierge," the guy chuckles and brings in a six-pack of beer, a bag of nacho chips, and a dip jar, along with a USB stick, which he plugs into the TV. "I figured you could use some entertainment, so I brought you some movies and TV shows."

"A key to that door wasn't an option, was it?"

"I'm afraid not."

"I don't drink beer," I tell him as he sets the snacks on the dresser.

He gives me a sideways glance. "I'll get you something else. What do you want? Wine? Whiskey? Vodka? We've got some chasers for that."

"You're too kind," I deadpan. "I'd appreciate some cider. Something fruity and light for this heat," I add, waving a hand around my face to suggest that I'm hot.

"I'll see what we've got downstairs," Spike politely replies.

I take a few steps toward him with a soft smile and an extra sway in my hips. The sweatpants I'm wearing don't exactly bring out my best features, but a girl's got to do what a girl's got to do. "Or maybe some rosé? That would be nice," I say, inches away from him.

"Yeah, or just stick to the beer," Spike shoots back, giving me a sour look before he scuttles out of the room like his ass is on fire.

I feel dejected. "Okay, no need to be so rude," I mutter mostly to myself as the door is shut and locked once again.

How much longer are they going to keep me here? It's only early afternoon, and already I'm going stir-crazy.

The next time the door opens, my heart jumps against my will as I expect to see Sky again, hopefully with an update. But it's not Sky, I quickly realize. The slightly shorter guy from last night is back, and he somehow looks hotter than yesterday. Those jeans seem too tight for his rugby player thighs. The white tee he's wearing is also too tight, giving me a generous view of his rippling pecs and strong abs. The bomber jacket makes him look even bigger, which, in turn, makes me feel extra tiny as I shrink back by the open window.

"You'll never pry that thing loose," the man says as he brings in a paper bag.

I instantly smell Chinese food, causing a sudden hunger to swell in the pit of my stomach. I break into a cold sweat, though I've already hidden my getaway screw. "I wasn't even trying," I lie.

"There's rust on your fingers," he says, giving me one hell of a side-eye.

"I was just trying to get some air," I mumble.

"Don't take us for idiots, Ariana. We're anything but," he shoots back and leaves the food on the dresser. I've yet to touch the nacho chips, but I've already gone through three of the beers, hence giving me the courage to ask, "What's your name?"

"Kendric," he says, looking at the empty beer cans and then back at me. "I thought you didn't drink beer."

"Oh, so you ladies like to gossip about me downstairs, huh?" I chuckle dryly and cross my arms.

He raises an eyebrow, a flicker of amusement lingering in his gaze as he looks me over. I've never felt more helpless or naked before in my life, but it's not a fearful sensation.

"You should try to get some sleep," Kendric says.

"You should try working for a living instead of kidnapping women from their homes." I think it's the beer talking, but the words are already out.

His gaze darkens to something akin to the midnight sky as he walks over. I'm tiny and paralyzed before him, mere inches of compressed air left between us. "You're pretty bold for someone whose life depends on us right now," he growls.

"And you need me alive, so …"

"I don't need you in one piece, though." He pauses, waiting for my reaction, but as soon as he reads the horror on my face, his demeanor changes ever so subtly. "Be a good girl, Ariana. It'll get you much further, I promise."

"How good of a good girl do you need me to be in order for me to survive this?" I mumble.

"How good of a good girl are you willing to be?" Kendric asks, his voice lower.

His words send playful shivers down my spine, and I'm starting to think there is something horribly wrong with me because heat spreads through my core at his words, and there's a familiar wet tingling between my legs. I try to breathe, but all I can do is hold his gaze as he inches closer until the whole world disappears, and I'm left drowning in the dark ocean of his eyes.

He raises his hand ever so slowly, and my mind turns blank.

"You're way smarter than I thought," Kendric says. "It might get you in trouble."

I sigh. "I'm pretty sure I'm already in trouble. How much worse can it get?" I ask.

A smile tests the corner of his mouth while I fight back the urge to feel his stubble against my fingertips. "You'd be surprised," he says, then pulls away just as my heart is about to twist itself into an impossible pretzel. "Eat up and sleep. And go easy on the beer, sweetheart; it's making you say crazy things."

I watch, unable to move a single muscle, as he stalks out of the room. Long after he's gone, his presence still lingers. It has made quite an impact on my senses, as I can't seem to be able to pull myself together. It's a concerning realization. Who are these guys, and what the hell are they made of to make me feel this way?

They're my kidnappers. They're violent criminals for whom my father has put a whole task force to vanquish. Yet here I am, oddly aroused by not one but two of them.

"Oh, for fuck's sake, Ariana," I berate myself and open another beer.

Go easy on the beer, he'd said. What the hell else am I going to do while in captivity? Fall prey to despair? No. I'll unscrew that stupid frame, too. Don't you worry about it, Mr. Tall, Sexy, and Dangerous. I'll haul ass out of here eventually.