22
Madeline
Emotional exhaustion won the fight. I wasn’t sure what time sleep had taken me, but eventually, I’d nodded off. The prospect watching us left after his replacement arrived. It must’ve been hours ago when the men switched places. When the door opened, the sun streamed in, blinding light brightening the inside of the silo. I was willing to bet it was late morning or almost noon.
Worry consumed me from the inside out. Every little noise set my heart racing as I feared for Emilee, Tara, and Hero’s safety. Each time I dozed off, I dreamed of AJ getting shot. The sound of the gun going off was so vivid I’d jolt awake, drenched in sweat and gasping for air. I’d looked at my hands, relief washing over me. They were only dirty. In the dream, they were covered in blood. I wasn’t sure if he was dead or alive, but I was sure all this was my fault. God, I prayed AJ was okay.
I felt an enormous amount of guilt. Shouldered the responsibility. It tore me apart, imagining what Storm must’ve been going through. What I put him through.
I’m so sorry… so sorry.
Terror fed on my soul at what these monsters might do to us. The way they watched Emilee and me made my skin crawl. But I couldn’t show weakness, my fears. I just couldn’t, for my own sanity. Letting them break me, like Dane had, might annihilate me.
Each time I cracked an eye open, the new pervy prospect was staring at me. He creeped me out more than the last one.
Time dragged on at a snail’s pace. Maybe it was good. Maybe bad. I didn’t have a clue one way or the other. The longer we were in here, the worse it might get for us. I doubted after last night’s show, the prez would keep his hands off me. A shudder of disgust shot through me.
Emilee was asleep, leaning against my shoulder. Poor thing tried to stay awake, so I wasn’t up by myself, but she couldn’t keep her eyes open. I couldn’t blame her. She was growing a tiny human in her tummy.
Then again, I was too.
She shifted in her spot, groaning quietly. “I have a splitting headache,” she murmured.
I patted her hand, which was still in mine, shushing her. My head hurt too. We were dehydrated. The prospect last night only gave us one bottle of water to share. I’d let Emilee drink most of it. That was hours ago. Before, I was forced to undress for the camera.
“I’m sorry, hon.” God, I was so incredibly sorry.
“You both awake?” The prospect strutted over. His jeans hung low on his hips, his black t-shirt had a hole in the armpit. He looked Latino with dark hair slicked back, tan skin like the enforcer. Maybe they were related. “The boss wants you ready for him. He’ll be here in a little while.” He tossed a couple sticks of gum at us. “He wants your breath minty fresh.”
I stared at the gum, trying to read in between the lines. Why did the prez want our breath fresh?Dammit.I knew exactly why.
“Can we please have some water?” I asked as nicely as I could stomach. “We’re grimy too. Is there a bathroom we could use?” I was probably pushing my luck, but we’d never know what they’d let us do if we didn’t ask.
“You don’t need to be clean for what the boss will do to you.” He laughed wickedly. It struck holy terror in me, the likes I’d never felt before. “But I’ll grab you both a bottle of water if you’ll give me head. That red bucket over there is your toilet.” He jerked his chin to the side.
“No,” I blurted without hesitation regarding his disgusting request. A blow job? He might as well kill me now.
“I’m just bullshitting you.” The prospect left.
I exhaled a shuddered breath of relief. But I was sure I might not be so lucky the next time I said no.
Last night flashed in my head like a horror flick. I couldn’t see Storm during the call. I only heard him and knew he could see me. I imagined a grim, disgusted, and enraged expression on his beautiful face. Fury pulsing through his veins, murderous thoughts pummeling his mind. And all for me. His silky baritone voice soothed my frightened soul when he called me Angel.
I had every faith in Storm, my cunning, ruthless, outlaw biker. He wouldn’t stop until he found us. I only hoped it was before one of us got hurt, like Tara and Hero.
Each time Hero mouthed off to one of the Hunters, they beat the shit out of him. For the time being, they were only using their fists and feet. I had a feeling they’d eventually get tired of Hero. I didn’t want to imagine what they might do.
And Tara?
Tara had been gagged since they brought her into the silo. I was sure she’d run her mouth off, so they shut her up. The Hunter’s prez sniffed around her a lot, touching her red hair, whispering into her ear. Tara and Hero were at the opposite end of the structure. I couldn’t hear what was said, but I could see Tara trembling and rage building in Hero each time someone went near her, laid a finger on her.
Emilee whimpered. “What are they going to do to us?”
Poor girl, looking to me for answers I didn’t have. After what the prez did to me last night, I honestly didn’t want to imagine what he’d do next. Especially if Storm didn’t give him Winters.
I couldn’t imagine the Knights and Hunters in the same area. The Hunter’s prez couldn’t honestly believe Storm would simply hand Winters over. Let them live here without making them pay for what they did to me. I heard it in Storm’s voice when he said he’d kill the prez with his bare hands. He’d do it. Frankly, I wanted him to.
“I don’t know. How are you feeling?” I deflected, so we didn’t talk about our impending fate.