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“You’re almost beautiful enough to keep for myself.”

I shiver, unable to imagine what the worst outcome will be.

“Please let me go.”

His fingers stop, gripping my naked hip, and a pained cry escapes from my lips. “I just stopped by to say thank you.”

“Th-thank you?” The question in my voice is clear.

A sinister smile spans his face. “For not letting anyone fuck you. Virgins bring in a lot of money.”

My knees nearly buckle, but he steps closer. His erection pushes against my stomach, and bile rises in my throat.

“Please don’t!” I yell before screaming out in pain as my fingers tangle in the panels of the cage.

I’m not back in Deo’s dungeon, but realizing that now doesn’t keep the tremors from shaking my body violently.

“Let me out!” I scream, face angled in what I’m hoping is the direction of the door. I’m in complete darkness, and it fucks with my head more than being able to see what may come for me. I yell over and over until my throat is sore and the only sounds I can make come out as rough coughs.

Instinct takes over, and I revert right back to the things that didn’t save me in Honduras and Venezuela. I grip the metal and try to break it open. I don’t stop until my fingers are bleeding. I lean back and kick at the door, hoping to somehow break the lock. By the time I give up on that, my feet hurt so much I doubt I’d be able to run away if I get the chance.

My shoulder is next, ramming into the cage like a battering ram over and over with as much leverage as I can manage in the tight space. By the time I give up, I’m bruised, exhausted, and wondering why I even care what happens to me. The sobs come without warning, and I pray to a god I no longer believe in to make my death quick and painless, even though it’s more than what I deserve.

Memories of Seth’s cute little face carry me into unconsciousness.Chapter 26TJ

I’m barely out of the damn shower when a fist hits my bedroom door. I knew this was coming. I just figured I’d have a little more time. The guys never go into the basement unless they have business to attend to, and those issues that would bring them below the clubhouse are usually discussed in church or at least brought to me since I’m the enforcer of the damn club.

“What’s your problem?” I snap when I pull my door open to find my brother standing there. If this were a cartoon, smoke would be billowing from his ears while a whistle blew in the background.

“Explain yourself.” His voice is a little too loud and bordering on too disrespectful for me to ignore. President or not, I’ll take his ass to the ground just like I used to when we were kids. I don’t imagine anger and a show of force are going to help me in this situation, but I’ve never been one to back down.

“It isn’t a big fucking deal,” I assure him, barely containing my rage.

My fingers tingle with the absence of my knife, but with how angry Lynch is right now, I don’t imagine pulling it just for my comfort is going to come across the right way. Stopping myself from using it would be another issue.

Briar’s door snaps open, but my brother doesn’t even divert his attention. He’s safe in this clubhouse, and he damn well knows it. He doesn’t give a shit if he has an audience for whatever it is he needs to say. The more people who hear about it now just means less people he’ll have to tell later.

“Not a big deal?” he snaps as his eyes narrow on my naked chest. “Are you fucking kidding me? Since when is having a girl locked in a cage in the basement not a big fucking deal?”

Realizing there won’t be a problem, Briar backs out of the hallway and closes his door. I hate that Lynch didn’t see him. In nothing but sweats, I know for a fact he was just banging our little sister. If Lynch had seen him, maybe he’d be able to focus his anger elsewhere. Giving his blessing or not, being approached by a half-naked Briar while our sister is in his room might have tipped the scales in my favor.

Ignoring my big brother, I go back into my room and get dressed. He stands, fuming, in the doorway as I drop my towel and shove my damp body into clothes.

“Who is she?”

“Is it the girl that got beat up here a month ago?” I look up from lacing my boots to see Hornet standing a foot or so behind Lynch.

The question doesn’t faze Lynch, so either they’ve already had this conversation, or he deduced the same thing.

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