“I… um—” Dane exhaled and had another peek at his wound, but seeing the gash again had him dangerously lightheaded. He didn’t have insurance and avoided doctors like the plague, but if this guy did something wrong and damaged his arm, then Dane might end up unable to work. That couldn’t happen. “Sir… could you, please, take me to a hospital?”
“No, I will take care of you.” The man said and… stroked Dane’s shoulder as if he were petting a child’s head.
Dane froze but calmed himself and tried once again. “I should inform my family where I am. They’ll be worried. And the man who attacked me? I know who he is! The bastard’s dangerous and could come for you next.”
The stranger’s fingers trembled when they moved to pet Dane’s beard. “None of that matters anymore. You’re safe.”
Dane’s throat closed up and his immediate instinct was to look for a weapon, but everything merged into indistinct shapes when he wasn’t wearing his glasses, so he stayed put while a sinking feeling spread in his gut. With everything being so dark, he couldn’t even estimate how large this interior was. What. The actual. Fuck.
“Do you have a phone?”
The man shook his head. “Enough. I want to focus on the wound. Lay down.”
This was a crucial moment. If this guy didn’t want Dane to contact his family, then staying here might prove deadlier than Rob’s fists and knife had been. He needed to find out where he was and contact the authorities before this crazy fuck showed his true colors. Because if he had good intentions, then what was the disguise for?
Dane made up his mind within a split second.
He kicked his captor as hard as he could with every muscle aching, and spun around, dragging himself to his feet while the world around him whirred.
The man fell back with a furious roar, and while still on the ground, reached for Dane’s foot, but his fingers slid off the bare ankle. An opening into the night was within reach, marked by the buzzing fire outside. Dane was so dizzy walking felt as if he were on board a ship, but the many horror movies he’d seen spurred him on past the plywood that his captor used in place of a real door.
He moved forward, already feeling cool air on his cheeks, but as his gaze followed sparks toward the starry sky, the moment’s hesitation whether to dash left or right doomed him.
Strong arms wrapped around his chest and pulled him back.
“No,” he choked out, but the thread that partially pulled his wound together must have caught on something, and he shrieked in pain. “Fuck! Stop! You’re making it worse!”
“Then stop fighting me! You’ll get dirt on the wound!” roared the stranger, pressing his hard, warm chest to Dane’s back.
The clink of metal pushed Dane’s panic into overdrive, and he wiggled to smack the guy on the head. This was sink or swim. He could have died earlier tonight, and if the universe had given him another chance, he’d fight tooth and nail to grab it.
Dane’s opponent caught his wrist, but instead of twisting it to cause more pain, he hit it with cool steel, which immediately locked around the wrist, as if it had been designed for it.
Fuck.
Fuck.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
“No,” Dane uttered, attempting to defend himself, but his whole body ached, and instead of delivering another blow, he ended up with handcuffs trapping both of his hands together. “What the fuck is this?”
Several hooks shone on the wall, spurring the most horrific visions before the man pushed Dane back toward the furs. Had the beating not been enough for Rob? Had he sold Dane to some kind of cannibal? After all the pleasure they’d shared? After the favor he’d done for him despite his better judgment?
He’d known the biker was bad news. He knew he needed to keep to the straight and narrow for his family’s sake, yet hadn’t been able to help himself when push came to shove. There weren’t any just-onces with an outlaw biker. A step off the right path, and there was no going back.
He was fucked.
“This is your home, so stop kicking around!” the stranger hollered.
Dane couldn’t believe his ears. This guy was a psycho. “Let me go!” he roared, but as he tried to pry himself away from the other man, his leg hit a stool, sending him tumbling to the floor covered in thick plastic reminiscent of garden waste bags. His elbows got the worst of it, but he was determined to crawl to freedom, and kicked away the piece of furniture.
“Enough!” his captor yelled, and Dane was beginning to realize that if the stranger didn’t care about raising his voice, then there was no point in calling for help.
Something soft slipped around his neck, and before Dane could have considered what the click at the back of his head meant, a tug made him choke.