Suddenly, I feel my heart racing and fear exploding within my body. “Something is wrong,” I state as I look around. And then everything just stills. It’s like an emptiness that has my wolf wanting to break free.
“Dakota!” I call as I start running into the house. I hear shouting from behind me, but I don’t stop, as I need to get to my woman. There are running feet behind me, but no one will stop me. No one will keep me away from my woman. I run up the stairs, heading down the corridor, my heart racing as I see the bedroom door is open. When I reach it, I see that it has been kicked in. My wolf is fighting to break free, but I hold it at bay as my fury explodes within me.
“Dakota,” I call as I rush inside, but even before I enter, I know she’s not here, and then the scent that I caught in the woods explodes around me. Motherfucker, was this all about my woman? Did he shoot those people just to get to her? Why would they go through so much hassle to get to Dakota? Yes, she’s my woman, but Hades MC know that the quickest way to have us in arms and at their door is to take one of ours. Is that what they want? Or was this someone else?
The questions are rushing through my head, and all I can do is look helplessly at the empty room where my woman was supposed to be safe but wasn’t.
DAKOTA 16
The pain in my head has me wincing. When I try to open my eyes, the pain shoots right through me. My body also feels stiff and sore. What is wrong with me? Did I get sick? Forcing my eyes open, I wince, as the light feels like needles stabbing in my head. Trying to concentrate, I look around and wince at the pain. Where am I? This isn’t our room, and then images start flooding back and I feel myself tensing, the pain that my tense muscles incite excruciating, but I don’t care, as I know that if I’m not imagining this, and I’m sure I’m not, then I’m in for a whole lot more pain.
I was standing at the window, looking out at the woods, when I heard the bedroom door handle turning. I remember looking back, hoping that Hunter was back, but then the door swings open and Jason is standing there. I tried to fight, but the minute he walked in, I knew that no matter how much I fought, he would subdue me. He always did.
I remember thinking what I could have ever seen in him. His eyes were bloodshot with a wild look in them. I knew that look, and I knew that it was the look that always had me bloody and sore. The first words out of his mouth when he found me were, “I told you I would always find you.” And then he pulled back his arm and punched me. I vaguely remember the pain exploding in my head as I fell back, but then everything went dark, until now.
I try to move, but groan when lights explode behind my eyes. I must have a concussion by the way my head is paining. “Awake at last.” I hear his voice from just behind me, and flinch. That voice has given me nightmares for years, and now here it is again. I should never have let my guard down, but I really thought that now I would be safe. Now in the midst of men used to fighting, used to catching men like Jason, I thought I had a chance to finally live a normal life.
To know that those people died because of me has tears squeezing past my closed eyes and streaming down my cheeks. I know that Hunter and the men would have done everything in their power to protect me, but I should have followed my gut. When I think of that, fresh tears squeeze past my lids. Hunter, I won’t see Hunter again. The thought has my stomach squeezing so tight, I think I’m going to be sick.
Maybe this was my purpose, to find Hunter so that he could mate with me and be able to control his wolf. If nothing else, I am thankful to have had the few days I had, and to have felt what I did for Hunter. “Tears?” Jason’s voice brings me back to the present and to my worst nightmare. “Tears won’t help you now.” And then his hand is around my neck and the air is being squeezed out of me.
“Look at me,” he roars. I try to open my eyes, my tears obscuring his face right above me. My gasps for air are loud in my ears as I struggle to take in air. “You little bitch, you think you can shack up with another man and I will let you?” I can feel myself starting to slip into oblivion. Maybe this is it. An image of Hunter flashes into my mind as everything starts darkening, and then I feel air rushing into my lungs again.
“I’m not going to let you die that easily,” I hear Jason say as I gasp for much-needed air. A click tells me that he has left the room. I need to try to get my bearings, because if he didn’t kill me now, he will sooner or later. I think back to what Gloria said about fighting, about not being a victim. I know that fighting Jason will be pointless unless I catch him unaware, and then I need to make sure to incapacitate him or he will be on me in a flash.
Will Hunter be able to find me? I could have doubts that he will come looking for me, as we have only been together for such a short time, but I don’t. I just need to hang on until he does, and that is something I don’t know if I can do. Jason was unpredictable when I was with him, and it seems like he is much more now. He shot at a group of people to get to me. He killed people because of me. How am I ever going to face those men who took me in when they find out that this violence was brought to their doorstep because of me? What will they do? Will they convince Hunter to let me go?
I feel a rage inside of me that is different from anything I have ever felt before, a fury that feels like I’m going to explode. Opening my eyes wider, I notice a cheap-looking painting on a wall to my left. Looking down, I see threadbare dark-blue carpeting. Jason must have brought me to an old motel somewhere, because I can hear the sound of cars in the distance. What are his plans for me? Is he planning on torturing me, keeping me, or simply killing me right off?
After the beatings and threats before I ran, I was sure that I wouldn’t have survived for very much longer, but then I escaped, and my hope grew. I met people who even though they knew what I have been through and what was bound to happen, they were willing to give me a chance, willing to place themselves in danger for me. I can’t disappoint them. If they had faith in me, then I needed to have the courage to live up to that faith.
I try to sit up, but only now do I realize that my hands are bound and my feet too. No wonder I feel so sore. Slowly turning on my back as not to jolt my head, I look around me. I am lying on a double bed. By the feel of the mattress, I would say this bed has had a lot of use. Looking to my side, I see the bedcover is a garish floral in a silky material. There is a bedside table, but no bedside lamp, the only light coming from the overhead light.
I don’t know how long I have been here, but I know it could have only been a couple hours, as I can see that it’s still dark when I look out the window covered by a light lacy curtain. Just then, the door opens and Jason walks in, a frown marring his face. How did I ever find this man handsome? Compared to Hunter, he’s not even mediocre, and when I think of the way Hunter treats me and the way this man has always treated me, it leaves me baffled.
Jason pulls up a chair to the bed and sits down, his eyes boring into me. “So, you run away from me to become a biker’s whore,” he mutters. “Not very picky, were you?” From experience, I know that it will be worse if I answer. Therefore, I let him speak, but to think that he considers a biker below him, I cringe thinking of how much lower he is.
He leans forward, his hand picking up a corner of my kutte. “What the fuck are you wearing? Do you think this is feminine?” Jason always insisted that I wear dresses or skirts. He always said that I was a woman so I must dress like one. I think that is why since running from him, my general wardrobe has been jeans and T-shirts. In my own way, I was trying to contradict him even though he wasn’t around.
“You even smell like those bastards, but we’ll fix that,” he mutters just as he pulls a long blade from his ankle holster and swipes it through the ties at my wrists. I flinch but don’t make a sound. I will not give him the satisfaction of knowing the pain that he is inflicting on me. He then moves down to my ankles and cuts the ties there too. “Sit up.” He grabs the kutte and pulls me up. The pain in my head explodes in a ray of light, and I groan.
I feel a yank, and then the kutte is being ripped off me. “You belong to me, do you hear me?” he yells as he throws the kutte. I hear it hit something before it falls to the ground.
“I don’t belong to you,” I mutter, and am awarded with a slap for my contradiction, which has my vision blurring again.
“Shut your filthy mouth. I will show you.” He yanks me onto my feet, my head spinning with the movement, and drags me to the bathroom. Here, he pulls at my T-shirt until it is off me, and then my jeans. Only now do I realize that I am barefoot, as I had taken my shoes off when I had gotten to the room after the shooting. When I am standing before him in my lingerie, he swears in anger. Before I can put up a fight, he has the blade under the material and is slicing the bodice down the middle. “Whore, were you dressing for him?” he yells as he grabs at my hair and pushes me into the shower.
The water is scalding on my skin, but I don’t complain. One thing I have learnt about him is that no matter what I do, he will only calm down at his own time. “Wash yourself, or do you want me to do it?” I quickly look around until I find the soap. Bending down, I pick it up and start by washing my body so as not to entice any more of his violence.
He stands right outside the shower, the curtain wide open as he looks at me washing my body. I ignore his rude comments. Closing my eyes, I imagine Hunter, and immediately a feeling of rage engulfs me. Is it possible that I’m feeling his rage?
“Enough, get out.” Jason’s voice interrupts my train of thought. I quickly turn off the shower and step out. Jason hands me a small towel that barely covers my body as he leans forward and sniffs at my neck. “Better,” he mutters as he takes hold of my upper arm and drags me into the room once again. Leaning down, he picks up a paper bag that I hadn’t noticed before and hands it to me. “Put this on.” He lets go of my arm. I know that I will have bruises on my arm from his grip, but that is the least of my worries, because I am sure that those won’t be the only bruises I will have from him.
Looking into the bag, I find a yellow summer dress. Pulling it out, I see that there is nothing else in the bag.
“There is no underwear,” I comment, and he grunts.
“Whores don’t wear underwear; you won’t need any. Now put the dress on,” he orders as he turns and moves towards the window. While he is distracted, I quickly drop the towel and pull the dress over my head. I look around to see if there is anything that I can use to get away, but there are no sharp objects in view. Also, if I do manage to get away, where will I be running to? I can’t go back to the MC; it isn’t fair to place them in this danger.