Page 8 of The Biker's Captive
"I need to make a phone call, and I'll be back. You've got food here, everything you need. But don't move too much. I'll come and change the bandages soon.”
I’m suddenly aware of the questions I haven’t asked, like where the fuck am I?
For the first time, I look around properly at my surroundings. The floor is concrete, and the bed I’m on is nothing more than a low bench with a thin mattress. My dress lies in tatters on the top of a metal cabinet with steel medical instruments laid out on top.
But I’m pretty sure this isn’t a medical center.
“Where am I?”
Pan shifts uncomfortably and gets up off the chair he’s been sitting on.
“Rest,” he says as he turns his back on me.
That's when I notice the metal bars. I don't know how I missed them before. They’re by the side of my bench-bed, and they reach all the way up to the ceiling.
"What the fuck?"
I sit up fully, ignoring the pain that throbs in my ankle. But I have to figure this out. The bars go all around me like a cage. I'm in a fucking cage.
As the realization sets in, Pans opens a metal door and steps out of my cell. Because, yeah, that’s what the fuck this is.
"Why am I in a cage?" I can't hide the panic in my voice. I've been having a nice teté-a-teté with my rescuer thinking I'm safe only to realize I’m locked up.
He turns to me, and there's real regret in his eyes.
“Sorry, precious. It's for your own protection. It's the safest place for you."
He shuts the metal door with a dull clanging noise and clicks the lock into place.
Fear pools in the pit of my stomach. I'm being held captive by a biker whose touch makes my body tingle.
What the fuck have I gotten myself into?
4
PANS
"Hey, come back here."
There's panic in her voice, and I hate that I keep walking up the stairs, but I do. It's for her own protection.
I don't know Willow. I don't know if she'll leave if I don't lock her up. But I have to make sure she doesn't so that The Reapers can’t track her down.
I already know if anything happened to her, I'd lose my mind.
She rattles the metal bars, and I force myself to keep looking ahead. Leaving an injured girl locked in the cage is not my best moment. But that's what I need to do to protect her.
I leave the door of the basement ajar, and I can still hear her calling to me as I speed dial Bruno, the club Pres.
We spoke last night and had a debrief about what the fuck happened.
The Reapers have been warned not to bring drugs through our territory. We got a tip-off about a drug run coming straight through our turf. That's not cool with us.
We didn't know the size of the drop when we intercepted them. We expected a few men on bikes, not a van full of heroin. And we didn't expect the driver to be a crazy-ass bastard.
Willow got caught in the middle of it with her car. He swerved right into her, not giving a shit if he hurt anyone else.
The thought makes my fists clench. When I find the asshole who was driving, I'll make him pay for what he did to her. How she survived, how she walked away from that crash, fuck only knows.
