Road Tripped (Satan's Devils MC Utah #1) - Manda Mellett Page 0,92
guarantee my success, and it could incapacitate me. On balance, I’ll wait until that’s the only option that remains to me.
A bobby pin would come in handy right now. But all I’m wearing is my tank and shorts that I went to bed in, not even a zipper that I could use as a makeshift screwdriver. I flop down on the bed, frustrated as hell, angry that someone got the jump on me.
Think, woman. Think.
There must be something I can do.
The door starts to open. I sit up again. It’s the first man returning. He throws something at me. Automatically, I reach up my hand to catch it. It’s a paper sack containing takeout. At least they aren’t going to starve me.
He’s also carrying a cup, and I get a whiff of the contents and shake my head rapidly. “Water.” Then belatedly I add, “Please?” Why do all Americans think everyone likes coffee? I can’t even stand the smell, so I’m pleased when he takes the cup back out.
Ignoring the thought that the food may be drugged—my body needs fuel—I unwrap the cold unappetising burger in its bun. I’ve eaten worse. The fries are also far from warm, but it’s something to keep me going. Shortly after, he returns, tossing a plastic bottle of water onto the bed, then leaves again. I couldn’t say if he’d said a single word.
More time passes and I’m still left alone. I refuse to be beaten or cowed. I’m more annoyed that this is such a waste of my time. I allow anger to grow inside me, it’s better than panic or fear.
Having eaten and drunk the water I feel a bit better, as I again work through my options. While I know Pip and the MC will be doing what they can to find me and get me free, I need to do what I can to help myself.
Lulling them into a false sense of security is a good start. If they think I’m just weak and helpless, they’ll start to take risks. Then, when one of them lets down his guard and comes closer, I’ll choke him with the chain, or my bare hands, either will work. Then, if he has the key, unlock the cuff, or, if he hasn’t, take his gun and shoot out that concrete and loosen that ring.
Armed and free, I’ll be able to make my escape. I’m confident anyone else in this house will be dispatched to meet Satan. When I’m no longer restrained, they won’t stand a fucking chance. All I have to do is bide my time and wait for the right moment.
It’s boring as hell, but I’m used to that. A lot of a soldier’s life is hanging around waiting for the moment to jump into action. I doze as I’ve done so often before, allowing my body to relax while remaining partially alert, ready to leap into action.
My instinct is to protest and fight. Acting timid and scared is so unlike me.
How would a woman who’s kidnapped behave?
She would be angry, beg, she’d cry… I can do the former well but not the latter. A soldier doesn’t show weakness, and they don’t shed tears. Well, not in my book anyway.
22
Road…
I’m worried as hell as I follow Snatcher straight into the meeting room. My hangover is a thing of the past, concern has pushed it right out of my head. Pip’s already there, his eyes perusing papers in front of him. He glances up as we walk in, then lowers his head.
Gradually the room fills, the only person missing is Honor. He’s still back at the house going over everything with a fine-tooth comb. I sit in the seat next to Swift’s empty chair, filled with emotion and regret. Will I ever see her again? Why had I gotten drunk yesterday? Would she have stayed in the safety of the clubhouse had I stayed sober?
Why hadn’t she just punched me in the balls and told me to get lost? I’d prefer an aching groin to the mental anguish I’m going through now.
I tell myself I’d feel the same were it any one of the men here missing. Never mind they’re not the same brothers I’ve ridden beside since I patched in, but they wear the same patch. We’re all Satan’s Devils. It’s not anyone else though, it’s Swift, and that knowledge darn near renders me helpless knowing she’s gone, and that I might have made it easy for someone to take her.