Page 78 of Huge Dynamite
“Hey!” Just then, two men in Dogs jackets see me and come rushing toward us.
“I don’t know the address,” I yell into the phone. “I was taken prisoner—the Unchained Dogs’ clubhouse in Rumb—”
One of the Dogs knocks the phone out of my hand and steps on it to break it while the other picks me up by the hair.
“Ow. Ow,” I whimper as I get to my feet.
“You little bitch!” he yells. “You called the cops!”
“No,” I mumble, trying to keep up with him as we move forward so he doesn’t pull my hair clean out of my head. “I called an ambulance. There are so many injuries.”
“Who do you think the ambulance is going to call?”
Walking me into the main room, he tosses me onto the floor. Breaking my fall with my hands, I land on my hip. Daring a glimpse up, I see Nick and the other Knights glaring.
“I’ve had enough!” the Dog yells. Pulling a switchblade from the back of his pants, he flips it open. Walking to me, he grabs me by the hair again and drags me to my feet.
“No, no, no,” I mumble.
“Damian, no!” Nick yells. “She’s done nothing to you. She helped your brothers. Let her go! Let us settle this by the code of the bikers—not by hurting a civilian.”
Still holding me by the hair, he circles around behind me and wraps his arm around my chest, pinning my arms to my sides. It’s almost a relief when he’s let go of my hair.
Then he puts the sharp knife to my throat. In the same breath, all the Unchained Dogs draw their shotguns and point them at the Knights, Vipers, and Rebels. Closing my eyes, I take deep, calming breaths.
“You think I give a damn that she’s helped us?” Damian asks, pushing the knife harder against my throat. “It’s time these fucking Knights, and Vipers,andRebels learn what it means to deal with the Dogs. If they’re willing to risk their lives for her… Damn, she must be worth a whole hell of a lot to them.”
“We’ll give you whatever you want, Damian.” Nick raises his hands into the air but uses a strong, serious voice. He looks from the man holding me back over to the head of the Unchained Dogs, Luther. “Let her go, Luther. She’s innocent. You want our clubhouse—you want our territory—take it. Just let her go. She’s young and has a whole hell of a lot to live for.”
“But once I let her go—” Damian tightens his grip around my neck. “—then you’ll all renege.”
“Knights don’t go back on our word. Luther—your president—knows that. Tell him, Luther Tell him we never go back on our word,” Nick insists.
Luther stays quiet.
“Vipers don’t go back on our word either—”
“Neither do Rebels,” adds a giant man with long dreads.
My already-trembling body starts shaking uncontrollably. Damian laughs, and as he does, he moves me.
Damian looks over his shoulder and spits on the floor. “Damn, the fact that you all want her freed so bad makes it all the more fun for me to take this nice, sharp knife and run it across her throat.”
Closing my eyes, I stifle a sob.
“Hey, doc, you must know what it feels like to have a whole bunch of nice, warm red blood spill out of someone’s body and all over your hands, right?”
“Please, don’t.” My words are a whisper.
“Oh, come on, doc. All those years of school? You can do better than that. What’s it called when someone’s blood spills out all over your hands?”
Squeezing my eyes shut, I plead with the man holding me. “Please.” Tears stream down my cheeks. “Please.”
“Nah, that don’t sound right. Try again. The word ain’t please—what’s it called?”
He tightens the knife against my throat and all of the Dogs raise their guns higher in anticipation of what’s to come. Nick keeps his hands up, holding his men at bay. It’s obvious that reaching for any weapons—assuming they have them—would mean possible death for them… and certain death for me.
“Doc, you’re starting to try my patience.” He squeezes his arm tighter around me. “What’s the word when someone’s blood pours out of them and drips into a big, red pool on the floor?”
