The Biker's Fate Chapter 368

Poppy

"Get up," Curly ordered, wrapping his hand around my upper arm and hauling me to my feet.

"Why?"

"I'm takin' you to your daddy."

"Why?" I repeated.

"For someone who didn't have any questions earlier, you're sure full of 'em now."

I scowled.

He released my handcuff and I took my opportunity to attack, kicking him squarely in the family jewels and making a mad dash for the slightly open door.

Where I was stopped.

By a beefy arm around my waist, cutting off my air supply. I heard a slight crunch and sudden pain in my ribs, but I'd be damned if I let them see me wince. I scowled up at my captor, surprised to see Roach, one of the club's soldiers.

Shit, there's more than one mole.

"You fuckin' bitch!" Curly squealed, and I couldn't stop a slight smile at the high-pitch of his voice.

"You're gonna pay for that," Roach sneered.

"You're not going to do anything to me," I countered, trying to sound like I wasn't scared shitless. "You touch me, you die, and you know Hatch won't make it fast."

"Roach, let her go," Curly said as he hobbled toward us.

Roach released me and I stepped away from him. I had nowhere to go… we were in a dark hallway and there was only one door with light under it. There was no way I could outrun Roach, and to be honest, even though Curly had wounded nuts, I probably couldn't outrun him either… especially with the pain in my side.

Whatever they'd injected me with was starting to wear off and my head pounded harder than ever, my stomach was threatening to revolt, and the fear I'd been able to stuff before was forcing its way into every nerve in my body.

I wanted Devon. I wanted him to find me and hold me while my dad killed the two men in front of me.

Curly crossed his arms and said, "You're gonna—"

Before he got the rest of his threat out, I puked.

Spectacularly.

All over Roach's jeans and boots.

"Goddammit!" he snapped, jumping away from me.

I spit on the ground and sidled away from what used to be the contents of my stomach.

Curly grabbed my arm again and dragged me away from Roach. "Clean yourself up," he ordered his cohort, and guided me through the door and into a warehouse.

"You're a pain in the fuckin' ass," Curly hissed.

"Did you really think I'd make whatever you plan to do to me easy?"

He scowled, but didn't respond.

Smart man.

"Well, there she is," a southern voice drawled, and I stared at a smarmy looking man in a suit. It was white. He looked like the KFC colonel in his younger days. "Welcome to our humble offices. It is so nice to finally meet you."

I said nothing as I tried my best to stare him down.

"Now, little lady, there's no need for that. No one's gonna hurt you. You're just here for… let's say… insurance purposes."

"I think you mean, you're kidnapping me for leverage against the club."

He chuckled without mirth. "Oh, my word, you are as smart as you are pretty."

"Well, Colonel Sanders, that makes me feel a whole lot better," I deadpanned. "I'll be sure to mention that before my father breaks your neck. Maybe he'll kill you faster, rather than make you suffer."

"I'm surprised you're waiting for Daddy to come rescue you, I would have thought you'd be hoping for Prince Sparky to come riding in."

I shuddered.

"Oh, he and I just had the loveliest conversation the other evening. He seems the ever so hero type. Too bad he's miles away and has no idea where we are."

"If Devon and Hatch don't find you today, they'll look for you tomorrow and every tomorrow after that. No matter what, you're gonna end up with a bullet in your head."

He dropped his head back and laughed. The fucker actually laughed. "Oh, you are a hoot, young Poppy! We could have had so much fun… it's a shame your usefulness will soon be over."

I wasn't sure why, but this man terrified me.

Curly irritated me, even though he was kind of scary, but Colonel Sanders here, was a completely different kind of bad guy, and I had to figure out a way to run.

"I see your intention in your expression, young Poppy, but don't bother. There's nowhere for you to go."

My dry throat closed up on me and I licked my lips several times to try and calm the fear.

"Get her some water," Colonel Fuckface ordered, and a cold bottle was shoved into my hands.

I rinsed my mouth out, spitting on the ground again, and then swallowing down the rest. It helped. Sort of.

What I was was hungry. I'd had breakfast, but nothing more, and I could tell it was late afternoon because the day was sweltering. Plus, considering I'd just puked up breakfast, I was starting to feel a little hangry.

At least the hunger distracted me a little from the fear.

"Show time," Sanders said, and Curly's hand gripped my arm again.

"You gonna behave, or do I have to chain you?" I scowled up at him and he grinned. "Handcuffs it is."

"Asshole."

Without further comment, he shackled me, but I was grateful he cuffed my hands in front of me, rather than behind. It gave me more range of motion and I planned to use it the second I could.