Page 110 of Poisoned Pawn
Rook laughs beside me having followed my line of sight. “Not a fan of church buildings?”
“I’ve always found them sinister,” I say, trying to keep any inflection other than disgust from my voice. His question could be completely innocent. At least I’m hoping it is because the alternative doesn’t bare thinking about.
“You won’t be here long,” he says as the car comes to a stop. He gets out, and I let out a deep breath. But it’s short lived as he ducks back in and leans down, reaching forward until he grasps my ankle again. I tense, anchoring my other foot into the leather seat and preparing for what’s coming.
Rook gives a small tug, testing the water, before yanking so hard he nearly dislocates my hip. He drags me along the seat. Terror seizes control of me, mind and body, and I know once I’m inside that building, I will be fully at his mercy. I’ll become the eight-year-old girl who witnessed the murder of her mother and was then kidnapped, taken to a place filled with unimaginable misery and sadness. A place so evil, so insidiously vile and unholy even the dead don’t stick around to haunt its corridors.
Ignoring the cost, I slam my other foot into his face. I keep on kicking even after he lets me go, cupping his face and roaring his rage. I’m so distracted enjoying Rook’s cursing that I don’t hear the door behind me opening.
Hands grab at me from behind, pulling me back by my t-shirt. I have no way to stop it, and a second later, my arse hits the gravel with an oomph. Before I have a second to catch my breath, I’m being dragged along the ground, stones digging into my backside and legs. I dig my heels into the ground, but it does nothing except scorch a path through the gravel.
My back hits something hard—a step—then another guy appears in front of me, snatching up my legs and lifting me. I twist and turn, struggling to get free. The sharp ripping of fabric fills my ears as my t-shirt tears. Hair covers my face, sticking to my wet face and making it impossible to see anything as I continue to fight, but it’s pointless. As I’m carried over the threshold, a shadow falls over me, filling me with despair.
“Lock her the fuck up! I’ll deal with her later,” Rook commands beside me. Fingers swipe through the hair on my face until I can see him. His face is smeared with blood, and a little spark of satisfaction blooms inside me. “I have the queen, and now it’s time to clear the board and take out the king.”
I laugh, a slightly unhinged, mocking chuckle that has Rook contemplating me with a small frown before ordering his men to take me away. He thinks I’m the queen, but he’s wrong.
I’m the poisoned pawn.
He’s captured me thinking I’m his winning piece, but I remember the conversation about sacrificing a pawn to gain an advantage. I just hope that Carter and Maddox realise it too.
I quit struggling as Rook’s men carry me through to a large room. I don’t even put up a fight as they place me in the chair at the centre of the room, snapping metal cuffs around my wrists and ankles, and I shove back at the memory of the last time I was placed in a position like this. Of the poor girl forced to endure abuse as I was made to watch. My every denial to do as they commanded resulted in her suffering.
I understand it now. It’s a sick and twisted way to breed resentment among the girls while the men were free to abuse us without a fight.
I close my eyes, shaking my head and try to block out thoughts of what my capture will mean for me and think only of how it will help my family and Carter. I know how this goes. I survived before—twice—and I’ll fucking survive again. I have to.
I ignore their verbal jibes and crude comments as they circle me like sharks. I even manage to not flinch when they run their hands over my face, neck, shoulders and up my thighs. When they don’t get the rise from me they were hoping for, they leave.
My breath bursts from my starved lungs as they close the door, and I take a moment to breathe deeply and calm my racing heart. My mind is going to be my biggest enemy here and the victor if I let it.
Focused enough, I raise my head and take in the room. It’s a large dining hall that once would have been filled with tables and chairs, but now stands empty except for me. The back wall holds a serving hatch, which is closed.
Time ticks by slowly and the light from outside begins to fade to an orange glow as the sun sets. As the last bit of light vanishes, the door opens and in walks Rook flanked by another guy. I don’t recognise him, but the large 51 tattooed on the side of his neck makes me think this is Fraser Mack, leader of the 51 Squad.
They stop in front of me as two other men enter dragging a girl between them. She struggles against their hold, begging them to stop, to let her go. I don’t recognise her voice and relief shoots through me that it’s not Toni. My heart plummets though because I know… I know what this is. My hands ball into fists as my palms sweat, causing the metal cuffs to dig into my wrists.
“Ain’t you a pretty little thing,” the guy with Rook drawls as he reaches out and snatches hold of a strand of hair, twirling it around his finger.
I keep my eyes on him as the other two men stop at the side of me.
Rook slaps a hand on his shoulder. “Fraser, meet Star, but I like to call her Anastasia. Really gets her going.”
“So, I’ve heard. The boys at the club house would like her. I think she’d be the perfect club whore when we’re done with her.”
My throat tightens, and a coldness spreads through my body as nausea swims in my gut. A cry to the left is like a bolt to my chest, and I swallow down the knot of guilt I feel already.
“I think we can do that,” Rook agrees before looking over to the two guys and the girl, giving them a nod. Then he and Fraser move to the right as the two other guys move in front of me with the girl.
“I heard that you’re good at this game, Anastasia. You were quite accommodating according to Aaron, but let’s see.”
The name sends another wave of nausea rolling over me and a cold sweat breaks out across my forehead.
“Come on now, Anastasia, my special little girl. Open up or Daisy over there is going to pay the price for your defiance.”
I shake my head as he pushes himself forward, but the scream that echoes around the room has me opening my mouth.
The memory slams into me, and I can’t hold back the heave that seizes me. My stomach tightens, trying to expel the vomit that is swirling inside my gut. I hold on to it—barely, while Rook and Fraser look on amused.