Page 47 of April’s Fool

No more than thirty minutes go by before a knock on the door has me jerking up off the bed. Figuring it has to be my food, I go to the door, open it without checking through the little spy glass, and find it’s not just my food but my worst nightmare.

“What are you doing here?” I demand. How did they know where to find me? No one should be able to find me easily. Sure, I used my name to check in, but I didn’t pay with my card. They’re the last people I expected to find me first.

“You think those bikers are really going to keep me from you?” Samuel asks, holding the bag of food I ordered. “Keep us from having our fun?”

He steps inside, with three of his buddies behind him—the very ones who always tormented me.

“You’re a hard woman to get alone,” Samuel says, tossing the food onto the dresser and facing me, hands on his hips. His friends push me into the room, closing the door behind them. “I’m sick of you playing games with us, April. It’s time you stop playing and give us the fun you’ve been promising for a year now.”

“I haven’t promised you anything,” I snap, hoping my fear isn’t evident in my voice.

Samuel snorts and looks at his friends. “She doesn’t think she promised to play with us.”

His friends laugh and close in.

Denny, the lankiest of the three, steps in behind me. “You promised to play that night at the party. We all know you want it, so you might as well stop fighting and give in.”

I jerk away from him and back myself against the wall. The need to fight or flee kicks in as they surround me.

“No,” I shout, fighting their advances.

Samuel’s face contorts with anger, and he punches me in the stomach. “You don’t get to say ‘No’ to me. You were supposed to be mine, damnit.”

“I’m not yours,” I say, breathing heavily through the pain of the hit.

“You are, April. You just have to stop denying it,” he snaps, gripping my hair and holding out a hand to one of his friends.

Denny places a syringe in his hand, and I start struggling to get away from them, screaming at the top of my lungs. Samuel curses and slams the needle into my arm, but I don’t stop screaming. I can’t. Not until whatever he put in me starts taking effect and my body goes limp.

“What did you give me?” I demand.

“A paralytic.” He grins. “Now, you can’t fight us, so you might as well be a good girl.”

“No,” I cry out, struggling to make my body do something, anything, but it’s pointless. All I can do is keep screaming and crying.

“Damn, Samuel, someone’s going to hear her,” Denny mutters.

“Let’s beat the hell out of her already and be done with it,” Nathan grumbles.

“She’s not worth us getting caught by the cops,” Steven adds. “It was already enough bullshit to get to those whores at the clubhouse and get them to agree to get her out of the clubhouse.”

Wait. What?

“Shut up,” Samuel growls, grips my hair, and slams me sideways onto the bed. He straddles me, his body over mine, hands at my throat. “I don’t let bitches like you win. I always get what I want.”

“You’ll have to kill me then,” I manage to say before his grip tightens.

“I’ll do that after I fuck you and we fuck you up,” Samuel sneers, releasing his grip on my throat only to rip my shirt open.

I scream as loud as I can this time, hoping someone will hear me.

“Shut the fuck up,” Nathan shouts.

Samuel brings his fist down, wailing on my face before jerking back.

“We don’t have time for this,” Steven grunts. “I’m sure someone’s heard her by now.”

Sure enough, as soon as the words come out of his mouth, someone knocks on the door.