Page 36 of Lies Beneath Secrets (Skeleton Crew #1)

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

Lauren

My eyes attempt to open, but everything is still black. I think for a moment that I might have gone blind until the feeling of cloth-like material registers. I have a blindfold of some kind fastened around my head. My head is pounding with so much pain, I can hardly focus on the fact that I should be panicking right now. I was kidnapped, and now I’m… I try to move my arms. Yep, I’m tied to a chair. My fingers are numb and when I try to wiggle my toes, I notice they are too. I breathe in deep through my nose, and the stench of stale urine hits me, forcing a cough. The memory of Lance, a neighbor we once had, comes back to me. He was a heavy drug user and sometimes when he would go on binges, we would find him passed out in the hallway. He smelled similar to this room I’m in. One of those core memories I held onto from my childhood. This situation is so messed up, I can hardly find the strength to laugh off the memory and how it’s the smell that brings me back to that place.

I don’t need it though because the sound of a door opening pulls my attention to my left. Then footsteps follow, getting closer until they stop right next to me. “I know you’re awake. Let’s go, princess.” A voice I don’t recognize tells me before they cut whatever it was tying me to the chair. I stumble slightly, but the man holds me steady, shaking me a little with annoyance. “I’m not going to carry you. So, if you don’t want to get dragged across the ground, I’d figure out how to fucking walk again,” he sneers and jerks me along with him. I still stumble but manage to keep myself upright as I follow him to whatever fate that has been sealed for me.

Doors open and shut. I count two before we’re suddenly outside. I shiver at the cold gust of wind and nearly collapse when my foot catches on what I think could be a rock. He doesn’t say anything else, only continues to pull me with him, then I really do fall when we reach stairs. My knee connects with a step, and my hands smack onto the slightly splintered wood. It’s rough, and a sliver sticks into my hand as I try to right myself. The man laughs at me, then grips my hair. “Crawl,” he demands, pulling me upward. I wince and follow him up the few steps on my hands and knees until he yanks me to my feet. We go through another door, and the smell of cigarette smoke hits me as well as the warmth of the room. He hasn’t finished bringing me to his destination though. I stumble through two more doors before he releases me.

Then the nightmare really begins.

“Well now, our guest has arrived.” A cold chill rolls down my spine at the new voice. I’ve heard that voice before, one horrible night not too long ago. There’s a scuffle in the room, a scraping of a chair maybe? But then everything is quiet again. “Go ahead and take off the blindfold. We won’t be needing that anymore.” I’m guessing the man who brought me in here is the one who takes off the blindfold, but I can’t be sure. I’m too scared to open my eyes when it’s free of my face. “Go ahead, girl, open them up.” Sucking in a deep breath, I reluctantly do as he says. Things are slightly blurry without my glasses on, but I can easily make out the room and the large table that has several men gathered around. I don’t focus on any of them. Instead, I choose to stare down at the floor. “Bring her here.”

Without protest, I go with the man pushing me along, past everyone at the table until we’re at the end. That’s when he stands. The voice from my nightmares. The man who broke into my house. “Such a sweet little thing, aren’t you.” He reaches out and drags the back of his hand along my cheek. The feeling of it sickens me, and I jerk away, earning a laugh from him. “She’s got a fire. No tears even.” He almost sounds as if he’s impressed. “Look at me, girl,” he demands, putting his hand under my chin now to push my head back. Unlike that night in my apartment, I obey and raise my gaze up to meet his. His smile shines through his neatly trimmed gray beard and if I didn’t know any better, I would have found him attractive. “Have you kept our secret?” he leans in and whispers to me.

“Yes.” I do my very best to keep my voice from shaking, but even with the one word, it’s a challenge. He must detect it because his smile grows even wider.

“I don’t believe you.” My blood runs cold at his words. “I’m going to give you a chance to prove it though.” He steps back, then drops down into his chair. “Strip.” The word echoes around in my brain, making the hair on my arms stand on end. I shake my head. “Wasn’t a request.” He produces a knife from his belt, then reaches out and grips a handful of my tee shirt, tugging me close enough to where he can cut open the material. With one flick of the knife, he gets a good rip going, then takes both hands and finishes tearing apart the fabric. No matter how hard I try this time to hold back a whimper, it still escapes me when he takes that knife and slices open the front of my bra. “Pants are next if you don’t do it yourself,” he warns, and I decide I’d rather pull them off than have them cut off. I slide my jeans down, along with my underwear, then step out of them. He nods in approval, then moves his knife back and forth. “All the way off,” he demands. Letting out a breath, I let the now-ruined shirt and bra join my jeans on the floor.

I watch as his gaze drags up and down my now-naked body. “I can see the appeal.” He twirls the knife around in a circle. “Give us a spin, sweetheart. The boys are anxious to see that body of yours.” Closing my eyes, I do as he instructs, not wanting to see anyone who’s at the table, witnessing this humiliation. “Well.” He gets up from the chair again and puts the knife back into his belt. “Lean over the table.” My eyes grow wide at the demand, and I shake my head no, backing up a step

“No,” I find my voice.

“Again, not a request,” he hisses and reaches out, gripping my hair in his hand. I do my best to fight back, but it only makes him laugh. “Such a fiery one. Damn it, I like ‘em like this.” My bare chest smacks on the smooth top of the table, and he presses the side of my face harder into the wooden surface for good measure. I clench my eyes shut when tears spill out. More laughter fills the room, and I realize that the men at the table are laughing at the situation. Something sparks inside me then, and I try to push myself off the table with my free hands. A hard smack lands right on my ass, causing more laughter.

“That’s enough!” My eyes shoot open at the sound of his voice. Dark hazel eyes stare right back at me. The heat from the man behind me closes in, and I do my best to still fight him off.

“Look at that, sweetheart. Your guardian angel is back,” the man whispers into my ear. His hands dig into my scalp while his other grips right above my bare hip.

“Let her go, King,” Conner growls. “You’ve had your fun.”

“Fun? Not even close.” The hand gripping my side moves over my ass, then down my leg before slowly coming back up between my thighs.

“No!” I yell and try to wiggle out of his grip. Again, not getting anywhere. King laughs some more behind me but suddenly stops and lets his hand drop away. I look up toward Conner once again to see him holding a gun. It’s pointed right at King.

“I said let her go,” Conner demands, his tone sharp. The hand holding the weapon doesn’t shake; it stays steady, trained on its target. Sounds of chairs scraping across the floor fill the room. When I look around, I find some of the men have their own guns pointed at Conner.

“You’re outnumbered, Con,” King says, still not moving away from me. “How do you see this playing out?”

“With a bullet in your head if you don’t get the fuck off her.” His thumb pulls back the hammer with a click. “I could give a shit what happens after that.” Conner keeps his gaze trained on King, who, after a moment, releases his grip on my head but still doesn’t make the move to step back.

“She still has to go,” King states. “And this is the second time you refused to let me kill her. Defying your president’s orders can bring on some consequences.”

“Give her to me,” Conner says, earning a room full of laughter.

“Give her to you? Like she’s a stray cat or something?” King laughs, then steps away completely. I take that as my chance to get up from the table and get as far away as I can. To my surprise, he allows it, and I move to the closest corner I can find, which isn’t very far from him. Then I have the chance to really take in the whole scene in front of me. Still a little blurry without my glasses, but I can see enough. Seven men stand around the table. Three of them have guns pointed at Conner. Two are only holding them, then there’s Conner and King.

“She can earn her place in the club,” Conner then says. I look over at King, who tilts his head to the side, seemingly considering Conner’s words.

“Let’s vote on it.” I hear another voice join in. I realize who that is—Knox. Two of the men holding the guns nod a little, then seem to look toward King for approval.

“Fine,” King relents. “Put your fucking guns away,” King barks out and sits back in his chair. They go around the table after everyone follows suit and cast their votes. Live or die, each one says. In the end, live wins out by one vote.

King grabs something from the table, a small mallet of some kind I don’t remember seeing. “Looks like we got us a new prospect.” He smacks the table with the mallet, then reaches down to the floor and tosses me my clothes. “Saved by your guardian fucking angel again.” He smirks and walks out of the room.