Okay, whatever they do, I can handle it.

A lock clicks, the door opens, and three men step into the room. The door slams shut behind them with a loud snap. I’m locked in with them. Brilliant. I should play it cool, play it smart, but as always, my mouth runs away with me.

“Evening, arseholes, is this a new kink? ’Cause I gotta admit, it’s not doing it for me. I’m wet, but honestly, I think I peed myself a little, so I wouldn’t take that as a point for you.”

They don’t respond, but the one in the middle steps forward. He’s wearing a black suit with the top buttons undone. His short black hair is swept to the side, and his brown eyes are tight and angry. His lips are pursed, and I spot the number ‘three’ starting on his neck and stretching onto his shoulder. The other two are clearly goons. The one on the left has a shaved head. His body is bulky, encased in black jeans and a black t-shirt. I spot at least three guns on him, and he looks more like brawn than brains. The one on the right has a purple mohawk, a piercing through his left eyebrow and nose, and even one on his lip. His eyes are blue and a little wild as he grins at me. His body is lanky and covered in tattoos, and he has no shirt on, just some leather pants.

“Do they chafe you? I got the worst chafe from them, you know? Especially when you start sweating a lot, and in leather that’s all the time, am I right?” I ask him.

He grins wider. “Baby powder.”

“Huh,” I say seriously. “I’ll have to try that, thanks.”

“Enough!” the man in the suit barks, drawing my gaze back to him.

“What? I was just getting started. You should know I once talked my way out of a ticket…okay, three times, but who’s counting? Then there was that time I was in a Mexican jail and I—”

Fuck.

My head snaps around, and I swing from the slap he delivered. My cheek stings, but I laugh as he catches my swaying body and stills me, turning me to face him. “Damn, that’s fun, do it again, see how far you can swing me!”

He backhands me again, and this time I twirl, it sends bile rushing up my throat, and I hold it until I face them again, and then spew it on them. It sprays across his shoes and trousers, and I laugh as some of it drops down my cheek. “Damn, that was fun.” I cough.

He yells, stepping back and looking at his once shiny shoes in disgust. The mohawk guy laughs, and I wink at him. “I thought you would like that.”

“Shut her up,” the man in charge snarls, as he lifts his foot, glaring down at it.

The other man, Baldie, steps forward and slams the base of his gun into my stomach. My breath leaves me in a grunt, and I swing back and forth, pain splintering through my gut. He does it over and over until I can barely breathe, never mind talk. I feel my ribs crack, shit. So every breath I take hurts, causing pain to flow through me.

But I’ve had worse, so once I can breathe again, I let out a pained chuckle. “That was good. Got to admit, though, my boy is a torture master, and he’s a lot more inventive. Where are the toys? The fear? Come on, you guys can do better.”

“Oh, that will come later.” Mohawk grins in a good boy type of way.

“Roxxane, look at me,” the suit guy demands. So I do, and he steps closer, grabbing my shoulder and holding me still as he tilts his head down to meet my eyes. “I’m giving you a chance to tell us everything. We know you don’t want to be there with them, they stole you, but we can help you. Just tells us what we need to know to kill them, and then you will be free.”

“Yeah…see, I’d believe that more if you didn’t have me hanging like a pig. You should start with that before the chasing and the drugs, but your information is out of date, babes, I’m a fucking Viper.” I lunge my head forward, smashing mine into his.

Headbutts are not fun.

Headbutts hurt, kids.

He stumbles back with a howl, his nose busted as pain flares through my head. “Damn, dude, you got a thick skull,” I groan, closing my eyes for a second.

When I open them again, he’s cupping his bleeding nose, his eyes furious. “Andrew, she’s yours. Get me everything I need to know then kill her,” he orders, before turning and ripping open the door.

Baldie follows and it clicks shut, the lock sliding into place. Andrew, the mohawk guy, steps forward, cracking his knuckles as he grins at me. “This will be fun.”

I sigh. “Andrew, really? I was expecting some cool name. Does your mummy even know you’re here? Do you need a permit?”

He grins wider, and then his fist comes at my face and everything goes black.

When I wake up, I’m tied to a wooden chair. Groaning, I stare down at my hands, each one bound to the chair arms, my legs are restrained too. Fuckers. The barbed wire they used to tie me digs into my wrists and ankles as I shuffle in the chair, trying to break free.

Well, that’s new. Stilling, I lift my head, saliva and blood dripping down my chin. There’s a marching band in my skull, my shoulders and back are killing me from hanging upside down, and my lungs are tight and my ribs creak with each breath.

Andrew isn’t here, probably somewhere jerking himself off, so I close my eyes for a moment, breathing through the pain. Those minutes fade as my mind drifts. It’s funny how when the end is coming, you start to think about the beginning.

My life has never been easy, but I gotta admit, I didn’t think it would end here. Of all the ways I thought I would die, this was never one of them. That’s the thing, though, life doesn’t owe you a goddamn fucking thing.

It doesn’t owe you life, you have to fight for it to endure and survive. And I did.

It’s filled with moments, of winding paths and unexpected turns. Each person that comes into your life offers you a new world, a new place and feelings, not always good, and from each one, we have the opportunity to learn. Whether we accept those lessons is on us. From my dad, I learned to accept pain, to understand how strong my body is, even when it’s broken repeatedly, and from that, I know I can survive this. Each person has taught me something.

Love, love is enduring. Love is blind. Love is messy and so perfect, we search our entire lives for it, even when we think we aren’t. I guess I wasn’t either, but I found it anyway in the form of four criminals. Their hearts as dark as their souls.

The thing is, I never tried to fight them, not really. I guess a part of me recognised them, and even though my mind was muddled with betrayal and anger, deep down, we clicked like pieces of a puzzle slotting together.

Diesel saw that before any of us. The rest of us lived in ignorance, unwilling to bend and break. Not him, he ripped open those walls inside me, refusing to hide from the truth. Some might call him crazy, but maybe he’s just enlightened…and, okay, a little crazy.

Kenzo…fuck, Kenzo. It will kill him if I die. He already lost his mum, and he’s got such a caring heart, even if you don’t always see it. When he loves, he loves hard. He’s all in.

Ryder will blame himself. He thinks it’s his job to protect everyone, to see everything coming, but he’s only human. It won’t stop him from hating himself however.

Garrett is so close to the edge anyway, this might push him over. My scarred enforcer will become lost in his demons until it gets him killed.