Abby

I watch as he approaches me with the same dead eyes as before. I practiced lifting my legs up and down to see if I could somehow fend off his attack with the lower half of my body while still cuffed, but all that did was aggravate my already raw wrists.

My breath hitches when he reaches me, but I release it when I see he isn't going to hurt me, instead he reaches past my sore arms and uncuffs me. My body automatically falls to the ground and I welcome the blood rushing back to the numb parts of my body. Rubbing my wrists and arms, I look up to the see the same dead eyes staring down at me.

His face remains calm and blank as he indicates with his finger extended to the only other door down here besides the one he comes through.

A bathroom.

I walk over, glancing backwards every few feet, only to see him adjusting the steel beam and restraints. Closing the door behind me, I hurry to do my business, not realizing how much I had needed to go. After washing my hands and trying to soothe the pain of my torn wrists in hot water, I look up at the mirror at my reflection.

My makeup is smeared from my crying earlier and my eyes are red from my lack of sleep. I glance down at my arms, not leaving the mirrors image for a single second, and see the red marks from the cuffs. My shoulder aches as I turn to take in the rest of my body, and I clutch it.

Yep Definitely out of place.

Taking a few deep breaths, I grab my arm with force and push my back as straight back as possible. At three, I pull my arm tightly, biting down on my lips so that I don't make a sound. I feel the pain of my shoulder going back in place and reach up to wipe the sweat from my forehead.

I pull down the dress a few inches, hating that it moves right back up. A knock at the door startles me and I'm assuming the stranger has had enough of me being in here. I'm just about to walk out of the bathroom when the mirror reflection catches something. I lean into the mirror and that's when I see it.

"Shawna, as much as I love that you're helping me with my hair, is this many bobby pins really necessary?" I ask as she pulls my hair in eight different directions.

"Yes Abby. We need to be beautiful for the wedding and beauty is pain for any woman." She winks at our tangled limbs in the mirror in front of me "Besides, you never know when you're going to need these things. They can hide in plain sight."

"My bobby pins." I whisper then startle once more wen the door rattles loudly.

I grab the few I see and pull them forward enough for me to be able to reach them. I pray that he simply leaves like the last time. Opening the door, I come face to face with him once more and I don't know if it's the bathroom light or the realization that I now might get out of this, but I can now see the details of his face.

There are hard lines covering his forehead and wrinkles around his eyes. His dark hair has tints of gray and his eyes are not only dead but bloodshot. He jerks my arm forward and walks me back over to the steel beam. I lift my raw wrists up towards him and he takes them and links them back into the handcuffs. I cringe when I feel the cold metal hit a soft spot on my tender wrists, but quickly ignore it. This is my chance to escape. I cannot show any sign of weakness now.

The moment my hands are cuffed, the stranger uses his advantage and grabs at my breasts once again. At first, I fight him off but quickly give in. There is not point to try and hide myself only to further damage my wrists. Something in my submission gives him pleasure but he quickly moves to the other boob and then slowly cups my mound. I close my eyes and imagine it's anyone else but him and after a few excruciating moments he finally stops, turns and heads back up the few steps then out the door.

I make quick work of leaning up a little further and pulling my bobby pins out of my hair. I'm able to pull a total of four and I pray that I only need one to get the job done.

Years ago, when I was fifteen, Max and Shane pulled me aside and taught me certain things they had learned. It was no surprise a woman wasn't supposed to be in the MC, that's what old ladies and sweetbutts were for, but they taught me some things they thought I might need to know. Firing a gun, fending off a guy who might have gotten too handsy, and how to pick a lock or a set of handcuffs. As I hear the clicking sounds of the handcuffs coming apart and falling on the ground beside me, I thank God for the latter.

Rubbing my raw wrists I look around the disgusting basement. It had been an hour in between the time the stranger visited me, so I might have time. Running right over to the door, I find it unlocked and open it slowly, cursing when the loud creaks sound from the old rusty door. I listen out for any particular noise and when it remains quiet, I walk out.

The basement I was being held in was old and filthy, cobwebs everywhere and old musty damp wood covered the entire floor board. The house, however, is the complete opposite. It's something straight out of Better Homes and Gardens.

The deep mahogany hardwood floor matches the multicolored area rug centering the entire living area. There are standing lamps in every corner and two arm chairs facing a large fireplace. Some familiar paintings hang boldly along the walls and a massive piano sit alongside a linen closet. I have never seen such luxury before.

"Tell me you have her here." I hear a deep voice say and look around quickly for a hiding spot. I hurry to the linen closet and hop in, holding my breath from making any noises.

"She's here. In the basement, tied up. Not going anywhere. But I can't keep her here." I slightly open the linen closet and peer through the clothing. I lean forward a little to see who the stranger is speaking to and watch as none other than Chief of Police John Alberts walks into the room.

Alberts has been causing problems for the Nightmare Warriors since he was sworn in. Of what I know, Austin and the others don't have much on him and he went missing a few months back after kidnapping Lyla and her little girl Adrianna. Seeing him up close, is something out of nightmares. He looks panicked. His face is unshaven, hair is in dismay and his clothing is wrinkled as if he had been sleeping in them.

"You have to keep her here for now. My men are out here dropping like fucking flies because of those stupid MC's."

"Thought you had them handled? I should just get rid of the damn girl." I lean further into the closet with fear. Hearing them speak so boldly about killing me has me itching to get out, but unfortunately Alberts is blocking what I assume is the front door.

"No, I need her alive. I need her sold. Just hang onto her for a little while longer. I need time to get rid of those goddamn Road Kings. They're the main ones hunting me down. Apparently, them and the Warriors have teamed up."

"Even more reason to get rid of the girl. What if they find her? That could fuck up my whole operation."

"Oh please. I'm sure those asshole MC gangs have taken part in trafficking. Just hang onto her a little longer and I will guarantee more shipment later. I'm still gathering more girls." My body shakes with realization. They are talking about sex trafficking. "Just hang onto her and I promise I will have everything ready for the next shipment."

I back further into the closet and close the door. I can hear footsteps and a large door close, then footsteps retreating. Alberts must have left, giving me time to get the hell out of here. Opening the closet door, I take a deep breath and exhale when I see that I'm alone. I don't have time to be afraid. I head to the front of the house and spot the door but before I can make a run for it, something pulls me back by my hair.

I fall back, hitting my back hard on the floor and scream out in pain. I look up to the find the stranger above me, grinning with pride.

"You little bitch, knew you'd try to escape." He grips my sore arms in his massive ones and begins pulling me towards the open kitchen. "Told that fucker we should have just killed you. Guess I won't have a choice, now will I?"

I can feel the cold tile as we slide into the kitchen. I attempt to yank my hair out of his grasp, but he just pulls it tighter. My head throbs and when I hear silverware banging around on the counter above me, I know I don't much time.

"Where is that fucking knife?" He grunts out and I use my legs to twist up and kick him in the calf. "Aw fuck."

I take my opportunity and jump up, ignoring the fire in my spine and head straight for the door once more. I'm almost to the knob when I'm tackled from behind, slamming my head against the side wall. Sliding down, I shake my head from the blurry image and watch as the man stands above me and reaches in his back pocket.

"Fine, I'll do this the fucking messy way." The steal gun aims right at my face and I use my last resort.

Years ago, Max had taught me a type of move to disable someone when I am down. I'm not the in the same position as I need, and there was no gun in that scenario, but I can't let this end this way. I use my legs and trip him up, making sure to grab his arms to stop him from blocking his face. He slams right into the wall, face first, and blood pours from his nose. He lays there silently, and I grab the gun from the ground and quickly stand.

Aiming the gun at him, I watch as he attempts to get back up. "You won't fucking kill me girly. Now give me the goddamn gun, and maybe I'll sell you off to someone that won't beat the fuck out of you every few days."

Anger slices through me at that fact that this asshole has sold women, scared and frightened women, and couldn't care less. He won't let me leave, and I know I don't have a choice any longer. I point the gun, right at his head with shaky arms, aim, and fire. Tears fall down my cheeks as I take in the mess of a dead man in front of me. I don't move for several moments, unsure of what exactly to do. Finally, I shake my head, attempting to get the image to stop repeating over and over again and run out of there.

I have no shoes and my body is sore from fighting. I feel like I am going to puke or pass out and I know I am not only hurt but dehydrated. Running out of the house, I realize I am in the middle of nowhere. Long fields surround me, but from a distance I can see city lights. I run, as fast as I can, for as long as I can until I get to the city limits, my body nearly convulsing. I know I am on the edge of blacking out, but I fight to hang on until I am far enough away.

A car drives by and its lights catch what looks like a phone booth a few feet away. I rush over to it, grab hold and have the operator connect me with the only number I know to call right now.

"Chance"

"Ch-Chance. I need?I need you. I don't know where I am."

"Abby?" He yells out. "My god, where are you baby?" I close my eyes at his endearment. It's the first time he has ever called me that.

"I?I don't know. I'm s-so scared Chance. I?I killed a man." Tears flow and they don't stop. I hiccup through what I see and my surroundings so he can get a better idea and right before I doze off from exhaustion, I hear him say one last thing.

'I'm coming Abby. Hang on, I'm coming for you."