One More Time

No response. Maybe I was alone, I thought? I tugged and struggled against the restraints holding me. Still no luck. I kept fighting though, pulling at my hands, trying to weaken or loosen the ties. But, whoever had tied my hands up had done a damn good job. I wasn't getting free easily.

“Anyone, please?” I cried out.

Now the trembling started. As did the thundering of my heart. I tried to fight it. Tried to stave it off. But, I was so terrified, I wasn't going to be able to keep myself under control. My calm slipped away from me, and I succumbed to the panic.

“Please,” I shouted. “Please, God, don't hurt me –”

Hands gripped my shoulders and shoved me back down onto my back. My head hit the floor, cracking slightly and I literally saw stars. My head spinning, I lay there groaning.

“Fuck, Cal, if she didn't have a concussion before, she sure as shit has one now,” a voice said.

“Cal? Cal Reynolds?”

The name rang a bell and I seized on it. I concentrated on the name as it was helping me stave off the darkness that was creeping in at the edges of my vision, threatening to pull me under. I struggled but got myself back into a sitting position.

Cal Reynolds was one of my dad's friends. The fact that it was one of my dad's friends, gave me hope. If these were my dad's people, I stood a chance at getting out of there alive. My dad wouldn't hurt me. He was capable of a lot of things, as I was coming to understand – monstrous things – but I didn't think he'd actually ever hurt his own flesh and blood.

“You used to come over to our place when I was little,” I said, still trying to appeal to the man. “I played with your daughter, Zoey –”

Crack. The sound hit my ears a moment before I felt a thing. But then, a hand collided with my cheek and I felt my head rock to the side. A moment after that, I felt the burning sting of the slap in my cheek. I screamed as the man ripped the blindfold down, and I stared

into black, beady eyes. Familiar eyes, yes, but not friendly. Not in the slightest bit.

“Idiot, you shouldn't let her see you!”

“She already knows us, fucktard,” Cal growled. “It's too late anyway.”

“Ross said we're only holding her until –”

“Fuck, Ross,” Cal said. “She knows too much. We gotta get rid of her now.”

“Cal, please – it's Hannah. You know me,” I stammered. “Please, don't do this.”

I looked around the group and saw all familiar faces. Some of them were looking at me like I was the enemy. Others looked ashamed and refused to meet my eyes. I was terrified, my stomach doing somersaults within me. I could tell by the way some of them were looking at me – or pointedly not looking at me – that nothing good was going to come of this.

“Paul – I played with your son, remember?” I stammered quickly. “We used to go fishing together before he went to live with his mom. And Stan, your wife taught Sunday School –”

The words died in my throat when my gaze fell on, yet another familiar face and I gasped. My head was spinning harder and I felt like I was in a waking nightmare.

“Chris, what are you –”

I didn't need to finish my question though. Things started becoming very clear in my mind and the puzzle pieces were falling into place. Unfortunately, I didn't like the picture they were forming. I swallowed, hard, as I remembered the last part of my evening. Chris had walked me to my car, but as I was getting in, the world suddenly went black. I remembered nothing more. Nothing until I'd woken up here, surrounded by my father's crew – and Chris.

Quite obviously, Chris wasn't the clean cut, All American cop he pretended to be. He was dirty and associated with my father's club – which made him a very bad, scary man.

“Chris, how could you?” I asked, tears filling my eyes. “I trusted you. Of all the people here, I trusted you. I liked you.”

“I'm sorry, Hannah,” he said.

His words said one thing, but the tone in his voice said something else altogether. His friendly smile and gentle voice were gone, replaced by a coldness I'd never seen in him before. He looked at me with eyes that were hard. Cold. Distant. No, he wasn't sorry in the least, despite what words came falling out of his mouth.

“You asked too many questions. This is for your own good. Trust me,” he said. “You're only going to be held here until your dad finishes this deal, then –”

“Fuck that,” Cal said, looming over me. “She's too much like her mom. She's going to rat us out either way. She knows way too fucking much and if she opens her mouth, we're all screwed. We need to do something about her. You know that as well as I do, man.”

“Like what?” Stan asked. “You're really going to kill Roy's daughter? Yeah, you can count me out of that party, asshole.”

My pulse shot up, going through the roof. The voice in the back of my mind spoke to me in calm, soothing tones, trying to get me to calm down. Come on, Hannah, keep this up. Not everyone here wants you dead. Your dad is alive, they're loyal to him. You just have to hold out a bit longer.