Chapter 22

Tori

A throbbing pain slammed through my head when I opened my eyes. A bright light made it hard to see, and even when I could open them all the way and my eyes adjusted to the light, it only made the pulsing pain worse. Finally, I forced myself awake and scanned the room. Where the hell was I? What happened?

I tried to stand, only to realize a moment too late that I was pinned in place. My arms were bound behind me, the sides of them digging into the cold metal chair I was seated on. My ankles were pinned tightly, each ankle attached to a leg of the chair, making it impossible for my foot to fully touch the cement floor beneath my shoe. A soft moan sounded over my shoulder, and I turned, realizing that I was tied to someone.

The memories all came back. Richie and his men barged into the office at the club.

"Paige?" I whispered, afraid to alert someone that we were awake. We were clearly not at the club anymore.

"Avery?"

I craned my neck around as much as possible and saw Paige's golden curls.

"It's me," I said. "Are you all right?" I winced at the memory of the gun being slammed into my head. I couldn't reach up and check for blood, but I wouldn't have been surprised to find some at my temple.

"I—I don't know. I can't move."

"I know." I sucked in a deep, slow breath. Keeping calm was of the utmost importance. If I lost it and dissolved into a puddle of tears, there would be no hope.

I craned around as far as I could and scanned the room. It appeared that, at least for the moment, we were alone. The room was small, probably twelve by twelve. The single fluorescent fixture hanging above our heads almost looked like something used to zap bugs. The floor was cement, as were the walls, with exposed studs showing. There weren't any windows, and if I stretched around, I could see a metal door out of the corner of my eye. The room was either an unfinished space or a storage shed. Either way, the walls looked thick enough that no one could hear us screaming. At least no one who could help us.

"What should we do?" I asked, knowing that Paige probably didn't have an answer.

I tugged at my bonds, but it was useless. The duct tape was wrapped tight to hold each ankle to the chair legs. And my wrists were forced together with a thin zip tie that cut into my skin with each pull. I gritted my teeth as the plastic burned and cut my skin. If I could get some leverage, maybe I could slip one arm out. Hell, I didn't even care if I broke my wrist. I just needed out of the cuffs.

Paige struggled with her bonds as well but seemed to be having the same results as me. "That fat little bastard is gonna get it," she ground out through clenched teeth as she fought and wriggled behind me.

"What does he want with us?"

"He's probably going to use us to get to Reed," Paige answered, finally stopping her struggle. She sucked in a pained sigh. "I'm sorry you got dragged into this mess, Avery."

"It's not your fault, Paige," I replied, my tone soft. From Richie's words back in the office, it appeared that Parkston's was his target. But what if he found out who I really was…then what would he do?

Panic surged through me, and my heart zoomed up to a frenzied pace. I tried to keep my breathing even to slow it back down, but each new thought only amplified the terror coursing through me. If Richie found out who I really was, I was responsible for one of the Sanderson's own being behind bars….he'd kill me for sure.

Or worse.

A shiver snaked down my spine, and I thrashed at my cuffs even harder, ignoring the warm blood that trickled over my wrist as my skin finally broke. "Damn it!"

"Okay, stop," Paige said, her tone calm and focused. "Let's be smart about this."

"I'm listening," I said, gritting my teeth at the throbbing pain from my tattered wrists and the thumping in my head that only got worse as my heart raced.

"There's a nail over there," she said, jerking her head toward the far wall. "If we can get close enough, we can pull it out of the stud and use it to saw away at these damn cuffs."

It was a long shot. But it was better than sitting still, waiting for Richie or his men to come for us. "Okay. Let's work in sync. Can you touch the floor?"

"Barely. My heel can just touch."

"Okay. Mine too." I glanced down at the floor, wishing I'd worn shorter heels. If we managed to break free, we'd need to run like hell, and that wouldn't be easy in four-inch stilettos.

I'd cross that bridge when I reached it.

We started to shuffle toward the wall, but each millimeter was hard-fought. We scraped and dragged the chairs along, wincing and muttering curses at each setback. When we were within a few feet of the nail, the door flew open, slamming into the wall with a loud bang.

Shit!

Paige and I both went ramrod straight. We'd turned slightly in our efforts to get to the wall and could both see as Richie stepped into the light, slithering from the shadows like the snake he was.

He chuckled. "Going somewhere?" he asked, his tone twisted with cruel amusement.

Paige spit on the floor. "You might as well leave, Dalton. We're not in the mood to chat."

My hands trembled, knocking together as I went back to trying to loosen the ties around them.

Richie entered the room, and two large men—the ones from the club—followed. They were his constant shadows. Neither of them looked particularly evil, but they were on Richie's payroll, which meant they would carry out whatever his sick little mind cooked up without question. There was no way Paige or I could take even one of them on. And Richie knew it.

"I just called your doting husband. Unfortunately, he didn't answer my call." Richie shrugged. "So, I left him a little message. Do you want to know what I told him?"

Neither Paige nor I answered.

Richie continued anyway, "I told him that I have his precious little wife and that the only way he can get her back is if he signs the contract I gave him a week ago. If that comes over, signed, not a T uncrossed, or an I undotted, I'll release you."

"Why do you even want the club?" Paige asked. Her voice was tight and strong, but the slight tapping of her fingers on the back of her chair vibrated through to my own, revealing her fear. "You have more than enough money. That much is obvious. Why do you need to own a club? You could build your own with the snap of your fingers."

"What can I say," Richie said, his hollow eyes drifting to mine. "I like things that I can't have."

My stomach turned inside out. If there was anything more than water inside, there wasn't a doubt in my mind it would have gone all over the floor. The look in Dalton's eyes was sick. Dripping with cruel lust.

His smile deepened at my shudder, but then his eyes returned to Paige just as quickly. "See, I'm not who you think I am, Mrs. Parkston. I don't know what your darling husband has told you, but I'm not a high-end art dealer on an extended stay in the city."

That much seemed obvious. I knew who Richie was, but it hit me like a sucker punch that Paige still didn't know. She had no idea what kind of filth walked the halls of her beloved club. And I couldn't be the one to tell her without blowing my own backstory.

"I work for a very powerful establishment. The Sanderson Family. You've likely heard of them?"

Paige didn't answer.

"Anyway, they want the club. And my job is to make that happen. So, here I am. After months of working my way closer and closer, I made my very generous offer and was promptly shot down. Well, that's unacceptable. I will take Parkston's On the Hill. One way or another."

I shook my head, still trying to figure out what they wanted with the club. But, whatever the reason, Richie wouldn't give it up.

"Now, to show you that I play fair, I've given Reed one hour. If he calls the cops, you're both dead. If he stalls or tries to argue with me, I'll be forced to send him a stronger message to press the severity of the situation." He strode forward. Both of us flinched back. He reached out and stroked his fingers over the side of Paige's face. "It would be a shame to mess up such a pretty face.…"

Paige huffed out a shaky breath as Richie released her. "If it's just me you need, then let Avery go. She has no part in this, Mr. Dalton."

"Paige, no—" I breathed. As much as I wanted to be anywhere else, I couldn't leave her. Alone. I'd never be able to live with myself if I was let go and she was harmed. Not that there was much I could do to help her. Somehow, leaving her would be too cruel. Whatever happened next, we were going to face it together.

Richie chuckled, the sound menacing as it rumbled through the small room. He turned his attention toward me. "Nah, I like Red. She and I are going to have a really good time tonight."

Richie ran his fingers over my cheek, dragging them over my neck and across my chest. I snapped out at him, trying to bite his arm. He immediately jerked away from me and gestured to one of his guards. The bulky man stepped forward in one powerful stride and backhanded me. Stars floated in my eyes as the pain rang through my face.

Richie made a clicking sound with his tongue. "Now, now, Red, let's play nice. Otherwise, I'll have to put a gag on you." He leaned in, so close I could smell his breath as he added, "And that would be a real shame because I want to hear you scream my name."

Paige struggled at her bonds again, trying to break free and defend me, but it didn't get her anywhere. Richie straightened, flashed one more sickening smile, and turned to leave the room.

"One hour, ladies. One. Hour."

The door slammed shut.

"Mother fucker," Paige hissed. "Are you all right?"

I nodded, still working my jaw to release the sting. I'd been hit before. But not by someone twice my size with no holds barred. Damn. I blinked away the last of the fuzzies behind my eyes.

"I'm fine. But if that cretin thinks he's getting his hands on me again…"

I didn't finish my sentence. There was nothing I could do to fight against Dalton. For all I knew, he'd have his goons hold me down and then take a turn of their own once he was done. I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to block out the horrific thought.

"We're gonna get out of here long before that happens," Paige said.

"How can you be sure? What if Reed calls the cops? What do you think Dalton will do?"

Paige remained silent, and my heart slammed so hard against my chest that I feared it would do permanent damage. Tears sprang to my eyes as I thought about Bennett. We were so damned close to leaving the nightmare behind us. He was going to get me out. And we'd be together. For the first time in years, I would have a shot at happiness. Now…I'd be lucky to ever see him again.

"Reed will know what to do," Paige finally answered. "This isn't the first time we've dealt with slimy snakes like Dalton."

I sucked in a deep breath, trying to stop the tears from spilling down my cheeks. I nodded, trying to absorb her words into my trembling body.

"I won't let him get to you, Avery. He'll have to go through me first."

A weak smile tugged at my lips at the ferocity in her voice. But I knew it was all meaningless. If Richie wanted me, he'd have me. There was no way out. I glanced over at the nail.

"Should we try for the nail again?"

Paige nodded, and we started our awkward, slow crab-walk shuffle toward the wall. The two men with Richie were likely outside the door, so we kept our voices low and moved even slower to try and make it to the wall. It was hard to tell just how long it took us, but we finally reached it.

Paige strained out of her seat to twist around and reach for our weapon, but after a few failed attempts to pull the nail from the wall, it was clear it wouldn't budge.

"Damn it," she sobbed, finally breaking.

"It's okay, Paige," I said, trying to keep from blubbering. "We'll figure something out.

I stared up at the ceiling. Please, Bennett. Come find me.

A sick feeling twisted my insides at the thought of Bennett. The napkin was still wedged between my bra and my skin. Was Bennett somewhere inside the same warehouse? Had Richie already killed him? Was he free?

Maybe he'd gone back to the club. Paige's friends were there. They'd know to go looking for her and would tell someone she was missing. Reed would check his messages sooner or later, especially once Paige's friends talked to him to see if he knew where their missing friend had wandered off to.

"People know we're gone," I said, thinking out loud. "They'll come looking for us and get us out of here in one piece. Richie can't really kill us…that would jeopardize his whole plan."

"You're right, Avery. Someone will come for us. We just need to be ready."

Neither of us pointed out that there were many things he could do to us that would be worse than death.

All we could do was hope it wouldn't get that far.