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“There’s nothing we can do until she starts to talk, Hero. Hell yes, she’s a liability, but until she fucks up enough that we can justify killing her, Maj’s protection stands. From what Voodoo and the guys tell me, she’s not bad on the eyes, so at least there’s a new pair of tits to stare at around here while we work the information out of her. “

“If that’s how you want to play this then I’m good with your decision, but like you said, we’ve gotta be careful around her until we know for sure. “

Raze reaches for the handle and opens the door. The woman lying in the bed is comatose as we walk into the room. She’s buried underneath the blankets and I want to see her face. I’m curious to see what kind of woman plays with the fucking lunatics. Grasping the blanket in my hand, I jerk it off of her and freeze into place. It can’t be her. The fucking traitor is my raven-haired beauty from the bar.

A feeling of being watched wakes me, but there’s no one in the room with me. The scent of a familiar cologne lingers in the air as I fight to stay awake. I suddenly recall the events that took place before I passed out. That red-haired bitch drugged me! I need to get out of here before she comes back with the next dose. Edging to the side of the bed, I feel my abs constrict. Lifting up my shirt to inspect the tightness, I find my torso has been wrapped in an ace bandage. When the hell did that happen? Sliding out of the bed and onto my shaky feet, I toddle my way to the bathroom, flicking on the light. After closing and locking the door, I peer into the mirror. It truly reflects how I feeclass="underline" dirty and broken. My black hair is matted into a tangled mess, and I find stitches across my brow. One thing I do notice is that someone has taken enough care to change my shirt while I was under a Sleeping-Beauty-cursed sleep. I wonder how long I was out. As rested as I feel, it could have been days or weeks.

I check the rest of my body to find no signs of rape or abuse, causing me to sigh in relief. The Red Bitch didn’t offer me up to the men in this place as a comatose fuck-toy. I start to bolt to the door before the urge to pee strikes. Succumbing to my need, I hurry back to the bathroom. As I wash my hands, I hear the door open and heavy footsteps enter. The sounds of each step move closer to the bathroom, sending me scurrying into the corner away from the noise. I don’t know what’s coming for me, but at least my back is covered. The heavy steps stop just outside the bathroom door before it’s kicked in. I scream as the wood crashes against the tiled walls.

A large man with buzz-cut hair stands before me. His arms bulge out of his black t-shirt that matches his muscular legs wrapped in tight dark-wash jeans. Tribal half-sleeve tattoos peek out from under the sleeves of his shirt on both of his arms. A gray, short scruff covers his face and contrasts greatly with his deep blue eyes. He stands with stiffening authority and demands respect with his stare. He’s the kind of guy you see standing on the street that you walk across the street to avoid. He looks scary and likely probably is. I assume he must be some kind of leader here by his tough exterior. I’d hate to know what his job was if he wasn’t a part of the leadership crew here.

“Well, I see that Sleeping Beauty has finally woken up,” he says as I huddle into the corner farther. He laughs with each inch I struggle to shrink away from him. “Cat got your tongue? You look like I just ripped the head off your dolly.” His deep voice shocks me just as much as the smile beaming on his face. He outstretches his hand to me, but I refuse to take it. “I don’t bite, darlin’, unless you ask nicely. Come on outta there. It has to be killing your ribs.”

I stare at him with a calculated gaze, sizing up the threat. He’s at least twice my weight and six inches taller than me; he could manhandle me like a plastic sack in a wind storm. I’m no match for him, but I’m not a quitter. He reaches toward me and I slap his hand away.

“Our dirty little kitty has claws, I see. I like that.” He smirks. “I’m not going to hurt you. Maj would have my balls if I touched you.” Hearing the woman’s name, I relax slightly. The man who brought me here said I was under her protection. He announced it to all the people here, so it had to mean something. Maybe she sent the man who kicked my bathroom door’s ass.

“Maj?” I sheepishly ask. “Can I talk to her?”

“No-can-do, darlin’, but seeing as how she’s my wife, you can talk to me about whatever you may need.”

“No, I only want to talk to her. I don’t care if she’s your wife,” I retort, not budging an inch.

“Now listen here, I’ve had enough of your bullshit. Get out of that corner or I’ll drag you out by your hair. I was trying to be a nice guy, but you’re toeing the line. Out!” he demands, shoving his hand into my personal space. I shove his hand away as I slide from my hiding spot. He tries to grab me again, but I shake his touch off. Crossing my arms, I lean against the bathroom wall.

“I want to talk to Maj,” I insist. “She brought me here and I want to know why I was drugged.”

“You were drugged because I ordered it. I couldn’t have an outsider roaming around my club. So if you want to blame someone for your three days of undisturbed sleep and medical care, you can blame me. How are the ribs feeling, by the way?” he asks, eyeing my mid-section.

“They’re fine,” I answer with clipped words. “Do I get my next dose of elephant tranquilizers after we finish our little chat here or does Red Bitch come back with it later? I’d like to at least be lying in a comfortable spot if my choice to stay will be revoked again.”

“I can’t wait to tell Ruby your little nickname for her. That’ll fire her up. Can’t wait to watch that shit.” He chuckles.

I don’t think anything I just said was funny at all. I was dead serious in my threats. I won’t be drugged easily next time. They’ll have to pry my mouth open and shove them in and cover my mouth to keep them in before I go easily into oblivion.

“As long as you’re a good girl, you can stay awake. Now, get your ass into that shower and clean up. You stink like a whore’s cunt, and I won’t have you parading your brand of stench out in the clubhouse. Ruby, or Red Bitch, as you like to call her, will drop you off the clothes we picked up for you. There’s a guard at your door. Knock when you’re ready and Slider will bring you out for lunch. After you get some food in you, you’ll be having a little chat about your new life here at our clubhouse with me and our VP.” He shifts and lets me out of the bathroom, making his way toward the door again.

“You have ten minutes before Slider here will come in after you. I’d suggest you make sure you’re on time. I’ll replace the door later.” The brooding gray-bearded man stalks out the door and barks the same orders to the man stationed outside. “Nine minutes left, girly,” he bellows outside the door. “I don’t hear the shower running.” He heartily laughs behind the door as I quickly move back into the bathroom, stepping over the shredded remains of my door.

Stepping in the hot spray, I rinse off the multiple days of coma-filled sweat and grime. I can’t believe I was out that long. There’s no medicine on this Earth that would knock me out for that long with just two pills. Either they dosed me again, or they injected me with something stronger. I don’t sleep well as it is, so to sleep for several days is far-fetched even for drugging me. My hair will need extra work later with a wide-tooth comb, but I know I don’t have time for it. Stepping out of the shower, I dry off and I pull my knotted hair into a wet, messy bun to deal with later. True to his word, the small dresser in my room has a small collection of clothes neatly folded within its drawers. I pull a pair of white cotton panties and a simple bra from the drawer and slip them on. Pulling the simple, dark-denim jeans over my wide hips, I search the drawers for a shirt.