تسجيل الدخولThe moment their backs turned, I burst out from behind the truck. I ran with everything I had, my feet pounding against the sharp stones, the canvas jacket flapping against my thighs. I didn't look back. I didn't care if anyone saw me. I reached the edge of the property and threw myself into the thick brush of the woods, the dark pine branches scratching against my face as the shadows of the forest swallowed me whole. I found the old logging trail Lexa had mentioned—a narrow, dirt path covered in overgrown weeds and rotting leaves. It was dark beneath the canopy of the trees, the cold air biting into my lungs as I ran down the winding trail. My breaths came in short, ragged gasps, the physical exhaustion from days of starvation screaming at me to stop, but the sheer, terrifying image of Stone’s dark eyes kept my legs moving. If he found out I was gone... if he caught me on this trail... I knew he wouldn't just lock me in a room again. He would destroy me completely. I ran
"Tessa... chill, please," the kid stammered, his voice cracking with pure terror, his limbs shaking violently. "Stone will kill me... he'll kill both of us..." "He has to catch me first," I spat out. "Take off your belt. Slowly." Toby didn't hesitate. He unbuckled his heavy leather belt with trembling fingers, letting it slide down his legs. I forced him to walk backward into the room, keeping the gun trained on his chest until he was near the heavy wooden closet. "Get inside," I commanded, gesturing toward the dark space where the lockbox lay open. "Please, Tessa, don't lock me in here—" "Get in!" I roared, the sheer force of my voice surprising even myself. The kid scrambled backward into the closet, pulling his knees to his chest. I slammed the heavy wooden doors shut and turned the small key in the lock, trapping him inside. He began to bang his fists against the wood, his muffled cries echoing slightly, but I knew nobody downstairs would hear him over the
Inside the box lay thick stacks of hundred-dollar bills, a gold watch, and a heavy, matte-black semi-automatic pistol. It was a Glock, compact but deadly, the metal cold and heavy against my fingers as I lifted it out of the box. I had never held a gun in my life. The sheer weight of it made my wrists wobble, but the moment my fingers wrapped around the textured grip, a sudden, cold sense of clarity settled over my mind. This wasn't just a weapon; it was my ticket out of the cage. I checked the magazine the way I had seen Stone do a hundred times while sitting on the edge of the bed. It was fully loaded, the brass bullets gleaming in the dim light of the closet. I shoved the gun into the waistband of my shorts, pulling my oversized sweater down to cover the bulk of the metal. Now, I just needed to get through the door. I walked back to the heavy wooden door, taking a deep, shuddering breath. I couldn't pick the lock, but I knew the psychology of the men downstairs. The
He pulled back, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a heavy silver key, tossing it onto the nightstand. "I have to lead the main run down the highway in an hour. Every patch holder is rolling out. The clubhouse is going to be empty except for a few prospects guarding the perimeter. I’m locking you in from the outside, but I’m leaving Jax behind to keep an eye on the gate. Don't go near the window while we're rolling out. The noise of fifty choppers will split your head open." "Okay," I whispered, nodding submissively against his chest. "I'll stay right here." "Good girl," he growled, bending down to capture my mouth in a deep, bruising kiss that tasted of gasoline and leather. He lifted me slightly off my feet, his hand sliding inside my shorts to give my bare flesh a rough, painful squeeze before setting me down. "When I get back tonight, we're going to celebrate. The run is always a good earner for the club, and I’m going to buy you something pretty to wear in this
As the week progressed, the clubhouse downstairs began to transform. The quiet afternoon silence was slowly replaced by the deep, rumbling roar of dozens of motorcycles arriving from out-of-town chapters. Even from the bedroom, I could hear the loud, rowdy shouts of patch holders, the clinking of beer bottles, and the heavy bass of rock music echoing up through the floorboards. The Iron Reapers annual summer run was starting, and the compound was filling up with dangerous, unpredictable energy. Stone was busier now, forced to spend more time downstairs managing the incoming presidents and handling club business. But his newfound confidence in my submission meant that the tight security around me had slightly loosened. He still locked the bedroom door when he left, but he no longer checked the deadbolt three times, and he often left the room in a rush, his mind preoccupied with the logistics of the run. He began leaving the heavy velvet curtains open, allowing me to look out th
The weight of her advice slammed into my chest. To get out of the cage, I had to pretend to love the bars. I had to let the monster back into my bed, let him touch me, let him look at me with that proud, possessive smile, all while secretly counting down the days until I could plunge a knife into his back and run. It was a terrifying, toxic prospect, but as I looked around the beautiful, gilded prison cell, I knew she was right. Submission was my only weapon left. "I'll do it," I whispered, my voice hardening, a cold, calculating spark igniting deep within my soul for the first time in weeks. "I'll make him think I'm his again." "Good girl," Lexa said, squeezing my hands one last time before standing up and grabbing the empty tray. "I have to go before the prospect gets suspicious. Eat whatever he brings tonight, Tessa. Start playing the game." She slipped out of the room, closing the door softly behind her. A moment later, the lock clicked back into place, but this ti







