Page 10

Four days later

T he apartment door shuts loudly and I step out of my room, expecting to find Bryce sitting on the couch and surprised to find the apartment empty of anyone except me. I rush to the door, hoping to find it unlocked. I reach for the handle, pulling it towards me, but it doesn’t budge, clearly secured from the outside once again. Despair hits me like a punch to the gut as I retreat back to my room slowly. The sound of my bedroom door clicking shut behind me causes me to flinch, the sound forever linked with the image of Tanner closing the door behind him that night. My stomach rolls and I swallow the bile that rises in my throat at the memory as I walk further into my room.

My room. When did I start calling it that?

I sit on the accent chair overlooking the lake until the sun starts to set, its vibrant color making the frost on the shoreline sparkle as it disappears on the horizon one inch at a time. I try to ignore the images that have plagued me for the past week, try to avoid the memories that haunt the room around me, but I can’t forget about what happened. I run my finger over my thumb absentmindedly as I close my eyes, wishing I could forget about him and erase everything he did to me. I ignore how my skin crawls at the thought of him and try to think about something else instead—of my family and how none of them would even know I’m missing, wouldn’t even care that I went out to work one night and never came back. My heart sinks at the realization that I might never have the chance to see my brother Garrett again, and tears well in my eyes as I think about Sam and the possibility of never seeing her again. I can’t help but wonder if she’s worried about me right now or if our friendship was still too rocky for her to reach out and notice that something is wrong.

Will anyone even know I’m missing?

I wipe my eyes as I continue to look out into the dusky sky, the sun now almost fully set in the distance, before hearing a group of loud footsteps making their way up the stairs. The front door bangs open loudly and I jump at the noise, moving quickly to my bedroom door that remains shut. I press my ear up against the wood, listening as best as I can as the sound of men talking fills the apartment, their voices loud and the clink of bottles audible. I recognize a few voices immediately—Tanner, Bryce, and Rhett—but I can’t make out the others, or even tell how many people there are in total. I hear the scrape of chairs against the floor and it sounds as though they’re moving them next to the couches, their voices easily heard despite the wall between us.

I’m barely moving, holding my breath as I stay frozen in place, trying to assess what’s going on out there. Unease flutters through my chest, unsure of why everyone is here. I listen silently as the guys interact, seemingly at home in each other’s presence, talking about nothing in particular as glass bottles clink against the table.

“Why’d you make us drive all the way out here for poker night, Rhett?” a voice I don’t recognize asks.

“Well, I couldn’t cancel two weeks in a row now could I?” Rhett laughs in response.

“But what are you doing all the way out here? I’ve never known you to come to the lake house this late in the year.”

It’s silent for a few seconds before Rhett’s voice sounds again. “Remember that chick I was fooling around with for a bit? She’s here,” he says casually.

Laughter fills the air as comments and questions are thrown in his direction.

“So, is she gonna come play with us?” another voice I don’t recognize asks as raucous laughter fills the room at the innuendo.

“Maybe later,” Rhett drawls. “Now someone hurry up and deal the cards.”

I still can’t bring myself to move, my feet frozen against the wooden floor, my body still pressed against the door, trying to hear what they’re saying.

Bottles are opened and the sound of drinks being poured quickly becomes a melody in the apartment as the group of them sounds like they’re making themselves comfortable. It’s not long before they’re all immersed in whatever they’re doing out there, talking shit to each other while the smell of cigar smoke quickly fills the air.

They’re just here to play cards , I remind myself silently as I walk to the window, watching the stars glimmer outside. I try to hold onto hope, to the idea of seeing Jax again one day. My heart pounds in my chest and my hands go clammy at the thought of seeing him… of having to tell him everything that happened here, trying to explain the shame and guilt that’s eating away at me day by day after giving up so quickly. Not that he’d care anyway, as he hasn’t been bothered enough to come save me.

I lose track of time as I stare out the window until the crash of bottles and a roar of laughter breaks me away from my thoughts, and I look to the bedroom door. The guys grow louder by the minute, the alcohol clearly kicking in, and I’m thankful I’m not amidst the chaos.

I pull my sweater up over my head, shivering against the cool air, before folding it neatly and placing it on the dresser. I’m left wearing a white tank top and shorts, both slightly oversized on me, courtesy of the spare clothes tucked away in the dresser. I open the dresser drawer in front of me, looking for something fresh to wear, and my thumb stings as it bends around the handle, still raw from my constant scratching, a physical reminder of how the events of the last several days are eating away at me.

I shuffle the clothes around, looking through the assortment of things that have been left here, trying to find something clean that is warm enough to ward off the cold. Suddenly my bedroom door is thrown open and I jump as Rhett stalks towards me, his eyes glossy. I back up quickly, but it doesn’t stop him from grabbing my arm and pulling me towards him. I wince as the smell of alcohol invades my nose.

“Rhett, stop,” I stammer, my feet desperately trying to gain some footing on the ground. “Stop it,” I hiss, but he doesn’t even acknowledge me.

He turns and walks back out of the room, pulling me after him as I use my free hand to try to pry him off my arm.

The guys are rowdy as we step into the living room, the air still thick with smoke and broken bottles now littering the floor. Rhett steps carefully over the glass and I follow suit, unable to bring him to a halt no matter how much I resist.

He sits on the couch and pulls me down with him, positioning me on his lap. I look around and notice most of the guys are looking at me, feral grins on their faces as they continue to drink deeply from their cups, some even swigging straight from the bottle. I meet Bryce’s eyes from across the table. His mouth is set in a hard line and his arms are crossed as he glances between me, Rhett, and the others.

Rhett’s voice sounds loudly over the group. “I thought you’d like to play a game with us, babe.” He laughs, and the others follow suit.

I avoid looking at them, specifically Tanner, knowing the look I’ll find in his eyes. I stare at the cards and poker chips on the table.

“Tanner, deal her in.”

“I don’t know how to play,” I say quietly as my stomach rolls with unease.

“Don’t worry, I’ll help you.” He presses his mouth to the side of my neck, inhaling deeply, and I’m caught off guard. Disgust floods through me as I try to squirm away from him, but his arms hold me firmly in place.

The game resumes and I struggle to keep up, trying to learn as I go but unable to grasp the rules. The alcohol is flowing freely but I decline every time Rhett passes a bottle to me. As much as I want to dull the anxiety in my chest, I don’t want to feel any more vulnerable than I already am. It’s uncomfortable on Rhett’s lap as I try to keep myself positioned as far away from him as possible, flinching every time he moves or repositions himself, only to be met with his laughter when I do.

I don’t know how long we play for—not long enough for me to understand the game, but long enough for me to know that I don’t have a winning hand. Nowhere close. As each minute ticks by, a mixture of dread and anxiety builds within me, and I start to feel physically sick as I realize I won’t win.

“I think we need to make this game more interesting,” a guy with brown hair and matching eyes says from across the table.

“What exactly do you have in mind, Arch?” Rhett slurs between sips of liquor.

The guy—Arch—inclines his head to me. “Her,” he says, and the room goes quiet, all ears listening to the conversation at hand.

“Her?” Rhett responds with a smile.

“Winner gets her.”

I wait for the punchline, wait for him to laugh and say he’s joking, but only silence meets my ears.

Rhett turns his head towards me, meeting my eyes, and a shiver runs across my skin.

I shake my head no, my eyes pleading with him.

“Don’t be ridiculous Rhett—” I say, disgust thick in my voice.

“I mean, it would make the night interesting,” he drawls as he looks at Arch, as laughter sounds from the guys.

“Rhett, you can’t …”

He snaps his head back to me. “What exactly can’t I do?” His voice is quiet, but I don’t miss the challenge in it.

“Nothing,” I mumble quietly as my heart pounds loudly in my ears. I stare at the poker chips again, unsure of where to look, trying to remain composed despite the hurricane of fear starting to build within me.

“Maybe I don’t need Jax’s money after all, maybe this could be part of your payment,” he slurs.

“Well if we’re playing for her, consider me in,” Tanner says as his lips form an unsettling smile.

Rhett laughs before looking back at Arch, tilting his head as if actually considering his suggestion.

“You’re a dog, Archibald, but let’s do it,” Rhett says with another laugh.

The game resumes, and I try to keep up, but I realize I don’t know enough to even pretend there’s a chance I’ll win. My eyes skirt to Bryce, deep in concentration, and for a minute, I wonder if he has a winning hand.

“What would my sister say about you playing for this particular prize, Rhett?” Bryce says casually from across the table. I look up at Bryce but he doesn’t meet my stare.

“What she doesn’t know won’t hurt her.” He shrugs, and I see disgust and anger flare in Bryce’s eyes.

“Oh, settle down, Bryce, I’m only kidding,” Rhett drawls. “I’m not playing to win. I just want to see how this pans out.” He laughs and the other guys around us do the same.

They keep talking but I barely hear what they’re saying, focused on trying to win a game I barely understand as the minutes tick by.

“Who do you hope wins, babe?” I flinch as Rhett’s lips brush against my ear.

“Me,” I whisper.

Rhett peers at my cards and a chuckle escapes his lips. “Well that’s not going to happen.”

I close my eyes for a second as another crack in my chest forms, adding to the broken pieces gathering within me.

“There’s some good options here if I do say so myself,” Rhett drawls lazily. “You’ve got me, of course, but I’m not going to win with this hand.” He throws his cards down onto the table before grabbing mine and doing the same.

He looks around the room, as if assessing his friends. “There’s Tanner, but you already know what he’s like. You’ve got Winston, who’s boring but hung.” A howl of laughter reaches my ears, and Rhett’s eyes move to the next guy in the circle. “Preston has fucked half the women in this state, so he’s got experience on his side.” More laughter. “Then we have Stirling, and based on what I’ve heard, he’s an animal in bed.” The black-haired guy laughs as he takes another sip of his drink. “You already know Bryce… his sister is the best lay I’ve had so I have high hopes for him.” Bryce glowers at Rhett, not needing to say a word to convey what he’s feeling. “And that leaves us with Archibald.” Rhett looks at the brunette. “But he might be a little sadistic for your liking, babe.”

Arch winks at me and I ignore him, my fingernail scratching into my thumb out of habit as I try to think of a way out of this mess. I look at the front door, wondering if I could make it off Rhett’s lap and past the other guys surrounding me—not that I think Bryce would put much effort into stopping me.

I look over my left shoulder, the bedroom door still ajar, and my thought goes straight to the window and the cold water below. Not exactly an ideal escape route, and not one that worked before.

Outside of those two options, I’m at the mercy of whoever wins the game.

I watch the others closely, the sound of chips clinking and cards moving barely audible over the sound of the guys talking. Slowly some of them fold, and I hope they will leave, but they all stay.

I jump at the sound of Rhett’s phone ringing loudly from beside us. He silences the others with a look before answering, hanging up the phone after only a few seconds of conversation, his one-word responses leaving me wondering what’s going on.

“Winston, Tanner, we’re out of here. Our client just got arrested. One of you drive while I sober up,” he says, shoving me off his lap as he stands up, Winston and Tanner following suit.

Guess they all work together , I think to myself as they stand to leave.

“Film it for me, would you boys?” Tanner winks as he walks towards the door, leaving with Winston and Rhett, the sound of laughter at his back.

Somehow their absence makes me feel even less comfortable, surrounded by people I don’t know, unsure of how they’ll behave without Rhett here as their ringmaster.

I shift nervously in my seat, trying to think of a way out of this mess, my finger digging into my thumb as I look around the room for any way out.

It takes a moment for the game to pick back up again, and as I look at Preston, Stirling, Bryce, and Arch, I wonder if I can make it to the door now, make it out of the apartment, and how far I could run before someone catches me.

“Okay, boys, let’s see who won,” Preston says a short time later with a twinkle in his eyes.

Bryce takes a breath before placing his cards on the table.

I hope—pray—it’s him that won.

“Fold,” he says quietly, and my heart sinks.

Stirling does the same.

Preston looks at Arch, laying his cards face up on the table. “Straight flush.” He smiles widely.

Arch lets out a low whistle.

“Damn, that’s good… really good,” he says, looking at his own cards. “But not quite good enough.”

He places his cards down and the smile is quickly wiped from Preston’s face.

“Royal flush,” he hoots.

“Fuck,” Preston snaps as Arch starts to pick up the poker chips.

Fuck. I echo silently, my heart beating loudly.

“Don’t worry.” Arch pauses what he’s doing to look at the other guys. “If you’re lucky I might just share my winnings with you.” He winks at me, and I recoil in response.

“But first, a celebratory cigar.” The guy’s attention stays on him as cigars and lighters are passed around, and I find myself standing up quietly, vodka in hand. I walk to the bedroom, shutting the door behind me as laughter echoes throughout the apartment.

I walk to the window, placing the bottle of vodka under my arm as I open the pane slowly. I stare out at the water as it shimmers under the night sky. I’m out of plans, out of a way to escape, and between the shallow lake below or the depravity on the other side of my door, I think I know which I would prefer.

I bring the bottle to my lips, taking a few deep sips, and my eyes water in response to the burn. I look down at the water below, trying to gauge the distance, unsure of what it would feel like to fall from so high—if I would feel the same hopelessness and dread as I did when Tanner stepped into my room that night, or if I would feel a rush of something else, exhilaration or contentment maybe. I place the bottle down beside me and sway as I grip the window ledge with my hands, leaning out even further. I want to leave, want to fight my way out and run far, far away from here, but there’s no fight left in me. My shoulders sink at the realization, that the fire within me has been extinguished.

What would Jax think of all this? I question silently. Even if I do make it out of this place, whether Rhett makes good on his word to let me leave or I run away, I’m not sure I could face him after everything that’s transpired, disgusted by my own failed escape attempt and being too cowardly to try again.

I take a shaky breath, gripping onto the windowsill even harder as I peer at the water below.

“I wouldn’t do that.”

I jump at the sound of Bryce’s voice, so caught up in my own thoughts that I didn’t hear him walk up behind me. As I spin towards him, I knock the bottle of vodka over, and it hits the floor with a crash.

“Wouldn’t do what?” I ask quietly.

“You know what,” he responds gently, a knowing look in his eyes. “The water isn’t deep here, so if you did jump, it would probably be the last thing you do.”

I look back out the window, wiping away the tears that well in my eyes before looking back at Bryce.

“So, I guess that’s it then, huh?” I question with a sad laugh. “I’ll just throw myself to the wolves and call it a night?”

Bryce rubs a hand over his face. “No, I don’t think you should do that either. And to be honest, I don’t even know how things escalated like this.” He sighs. “You were supposed to stay here until Rhett got paid, and that’s it. That’s the plan Tanner and I agreed to, though, as you can probably tell, I don’t think there’s much Tanner would say no to.”

I look back out the window, unsure of how to respond.

“I think it’s time to get you home, Evi.”

“How?” I stammer, unsure if I’m hearing him correctly, unsure if I can trust him.

“There’s a perfectly good front door, so let’s go.”

“You’re going to help me? You’re willing to risk it? Why now?” I glance at him, hope bubbling in my chest despite my hesitation.

The conflict is apparent on his face as his brows crease together.

“Because I’m tired of sitting by and watching this shit… I didn’t agree to see you treated like this… I don’t agree with it.”

“And if this doesn’t work? Then what happens?”

“Guess we’ll find out.” He shrugs.

My chest is tight with worry, but the vodka in my system gives me a dose of courage I didn’t have before.

“What’s the worst that could happen?”

A grim smile is all Bryce gives me before walking toward the door. I follow behind him, close on his heels, as my heart beats wildly in my chest.

Voices and laughter fill the room, the others sitting where I left them. The air is thick with smoke as they bring cigars to their mouths, their drinks now almost completely empty.

For a minute I think it’s going to work, my quiet footsteps trailing behind Bryce as we walk past the guys, aiming straight for the front door.

“And what do you think you’re doing?” Arch’s voice rings loudly over the chaos.

I freeze in response to his voice, and I swear my heart stops beating as fear holds me in place.

Bryce turns to Arch casually. “Taking her home… where she belongs.”

“Not before I claim my prize you’re not.” The room goes quiet at Arch’s tone, Preston and Stirling pausing their conversation to look at us.

My eyes dart between them all as terror grows within me, something even the alcohol can’t ward off.

“In case you can’t tell, Arch, she’s not some cheap carnival prize for you to do with what you want—”

“Rhett said—” Arch interrupts, before being cut off by Bryce again.

“I don’t really care about what Rhett said. I’m taking her home.”

Arch stands up, flanked by the others.

“Come on, Bryce.” He sneers. “Don’t make trouble for yourself.”

I notice Stirling moving closer to us, blocking our path to the front door, and I don’t see this ending well for anyone.

I look at Bryce, unsure of what to do or say. His hand reaches out for me, gripping my shoulder firmly and keeping me in place as if trying to reassure me to stay near him.

“Leave, Evi,” Bryce says quietly, his eyes not leaving Arch.

“Don’t be stupid, Bryce,” Arch fires back, walking towards us, his steps slow but intentional.

I turn around, wanting to get to the door, only to see Stirling shaking his head no at me, something dark glimmering behind his eyes.

I hear the first punch being thrown, the unmistakable sound of knuckles meeting flesh and the crunch of bone beneath it. In less than a second, chaos has broken out around me and I instinctively drop to the ground as I try to shield myself from it all. I’m not sure who threw the first punch, and I don’t really care, my eyes are wide with shock as I watch the fight unfold in front of me.

It only took a second, a second of me turning around, for something to shift in the guys, their movements now wild and predatory. They’re on Bryce, fists pummeling into him like a pack of wolves trying to bring down their prey. I start to turn towards the door, wanting to try and make a run for it, to get as far away from here as I can. But something makes me look back at Bryce and my feet remain glued to the floor, unable to move as I watch him get pushed to the ground, his eyes rolling back in his head as it hits the floor with an audible thud.

“Fuck,” Arch spits, bringing a hand up to a split in his lip. My worry for Bryce is replaced by a flicker of pride, and my lips tilt up in a small smile at the knowledge that he got at least one punch in before he was overwhelmed.

“What the fuck are you smiling at?” Arch yells at me.

I don’t give myself time to think before I throw myself to my feet, running towards the door.

Frustration and panic flow through me as my body doesn’t respond as fast as I want, my movements uncoordinated as I stumble away from everyone.

Rough hands grab my arm and drag me back towards the couch. I manage to twist free, taking two steps backward before rolling my ankle on an empty bottle, falling back, the ceiling now the only thing I can see.

A guttural scream sounds from somewhere deep in my throat as the glass coffee table shatters against my back and white-hot pain slices through my body. I don’t think I could move if I wanted to. The world spins around me as pain overwhelms all my senses.

“Well, that’s a shame,” someone says, and laughter sounds in response.

The voices sound far away, and darkness creeps into the corners of my vision as I fight to keep my eyes open. I feel hot and cold all at once, my hands trembling at my sides. I try to breathe but it sounds all wrong, my breaths short and labored as shock takes over my body.

I’m so focused on the sting in my back that I don’t even jump when a voice sounds beside my right ear. “I’d stay still if I were you, that’s a lot of glass you just landed on,” they whisper threateningly.

I try to move my head, move my body, away from the voice, but the movement sends another flash of searing heat through me, my vision going black from the pain.

When I open my eyes again, it feels like I’m dreaming, the world around me sounds muted, and it looks as though I’m watching everything happen through a thick fog.

I look up at those standing around me only to see a piece of glowing ash float down towards my face, its dance towards the ground mesmerizing.

I lift my hand, trying to catch the fleck of ash, surprised by the lack of feeling in my body. It’s as if I’m underwater, muffled conversation and my own breathing the only sounds meeting my ears as shock floods my system.

I think about moving, think about standing up and walking out of here, but before I do someone crouches down on top of me. I cough as smoke is blown into my face and Arch’s face appears before mine.

This is not real. This cannot be real.

I want to yell at myself to wake up, yell at myself to move. That this isn’t real, that I’m stuck in a nightmare and only need to wake up for this to end.

I choke on a cough as it racks through my body, the smoke making it hard to breathe. Arch laughs in response.

“Funny how some things just work out, isn’t it?” He smiles, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “Here you were, so against the little game we were playing, but now you’re just laying here acting like the prize you were meant to be, waiting for me.”

A chorus of laughter sounds from above and I close my eyes, unable to respond as I choke on more smoke.

“Why so quiet, Evi?” he asks, his dark eyes flickering.

I feel the burn of pain before I register what’s happening, his cigar no longer in his mouth, his hand now pressed firmly against my thigh.

I open my mouth to scream as the pain wraps around me. The last thing I see is Arch’s face before everything fades to black.