Total pages in book: 63
Estimated words: 60663 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 303(@200wpm)___ 243(@250wpm)___ 202(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 60663 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 303(@200wpm)___ 243(@250wpm)___ 202(@300wpm)
“You’ve been gone way too long,” a low, angry voice raises on the line.
“You must be talking about Mr. Carmel here,” I reply, making sure the phone is on speaker.
“Hobs, this man is crazy. He has me tied up!” Kalilah’s husband yells.
I raise a finger to shut him up. “Hobs. Is that your name?” I say. “I believe it’s really Harry, but if Hobs is what you prefer, then who am I to argue.” I chuckle. The dumb shit across from me, Tony, looks at me surprised. Tony Carmel. That stupid name should have been Kalilah’s first red flag.
“Who the fuck is this?” Hobs barks into the phone.
“I have your man, who thinks—” The idiot hangs up, cutting me off.
Now that wasn’t nice.
He doesn’t play fair.
I get up and go to leave.
“He will find you,” Tony calls out to my back.
“I’m looking forward to it!”
Twenty-Two
Kalilah
Alaska is fun, and after we go house hunting, she takes me for drinks with her friend Louise, who kindly informs me she once flashed Kyson her hooha. I laugh at the story. I can see why they’re friends—they balance each other out nicely.
When it’s time for me to go, Alaska offers to take me home, but I call an Uber instead.
She waves as the driver takes off, and not long into the drive, my phone starts dinging.
I look down to see it says my Uber has arrived.
What?
That has to be a mistake.
A delayed message?
Right?
Maybe I had too many drinks because I’m clearly in an Uber right now.
Lying my head back against the seat, my phone continues to ding.
I send a message through the Uber app telling them I’m in the car.
The driver replies back immediately, saying he’s waiting for me.
What?
“Sir? Um… I’m sorry to bother you,” I say to the man driving the car.
“Yes, Kalilah?” I freeze at his use of my name. The app doesn’t have my first full name, just Kal.
As I reach for the door handle, the car pulls over and stops. I jump out as fast as I can, gripping my phone for dear life, before I start running. But my legs are slow, and my breath is gone. Fucking alcohol. Arms wrap around me from behind and lift me up. I kick for all I am worth, but it’s no use.
“I’d stop that if I were you,” a voice calls out. “Seems you have caused a lot more trouble than you are worth.”
Confused, I whip my head toward the voice, sobering up as I do.
Shit! Hobs. It’s the president of the MC that Tony is a member of. “You ran far, but did you think he wouldn’t find you?” He steps closer and grabs my chin. “You are his favorite toy. So obedient. Until you ran.” He shakes his head, his hold on my chin becoming tighter. His fingers almost bruising as he grips me. “Now, tell me where he is.”
I shake my head, having no idea what he’s talking about.
“I don’t know, haven’t seen him,” I tell him. He removes his hand from my chin and uses it to slap me hard across the face. Instantly, I taste blood. Licking my lips, I meet his eyes, holding back my tears. “I don’t know…. I’m not lying,” I reply. He doesn’t like my truth, so he punches me in the stomach with such force I would double over if I weren’t being held up.
Talk about taking a fucking beating.
I’ve lost my breath and am struggling to catch it. And just when I do, he punches me again for good measure. This time, though, I spew all down my front, unable to stop myself.
“You are disgusting.” He sneers at me, then addresses the person holding me. “Tie her the fuck up and check her phone.”
I’m shoved to the ground, where I land on my side, my hands clutching my stomach. A moment later, my hands are yanked behind my back and tied together.
This! This was the reason I ran.
How stupid I was to get comfortable and think for even one single second I was safe.
How did I trust another man so easily when one was willing to break me down without care?
The tears break free as my phone is yanked from my hand. I lunge at the man, but he kicks me back, then scrolls through the phone. He won’t find much since it’s new. And I don’t keep contacts. I don’t even think I’ve messaged anyone yet, so that’s a positive.
“It’s empty,” the man says to Hobs.
They start talking to each other, and I manage to catch my breath and scan our surroundings while they aren’t looking. We’re in the middle of bumfuck nowhere, but not far from here is an industrial area. I don’t know it well, but someone should be there. Getting myself to my feet as quietly as I can, I take one look at them before I turn and hotfoot it the fuck out of there as fast as I can.