Even as she wanted to burst into tears, she started to laugh. This wasn’t funny. Nothing about what was going to happen was funny.
“What the fuck are you laughing at?” Hank asked.
She’d startled him and he’d loosened his grip. Turning to her side, she covered her mouth and put a hand to her stomach, giving in to the wave of hysteria that had overtaken her.
“What’s going on back there?” Grass asked.
What the hell am I doing? This is completely nuts. I’m going to die.
She shook Hank off as he tried to touch her. Scooting away from him, she turned to finally look at him. Now that she was sitting, staring at him, she wasn’t the one in a vulnerable position. If Hank was going to come at her with a knife, she’d be ready. Not that she could do anything.
“I’m so sorry.” She giggled for good measure.
“You think this is funny?”
“Yes. You think you’re going to make the guys pay, and that you’d somehow own this town. Did you two even look in the mirror? I was at that party. You were selling women who didn’t want to be there. You think you’re better than the club? You’re worse.”
Hank glared at her. “Those women were given a second chance. They should be grateful.”
“Those women were stolen. You call the club scum. You think you’re above them but you’re not. You’re beneath them. You always have been. It’s why you’ve got to fight to try and rid yourself of the dirty that clings to your skin.” Anger filled the void of fear, taking over. She needed to shut up, but after listening to Hank’s insults of the club, and knowing what they had planned, she was done acting like the dumb woman who was looking for a hero. She was through acting scared.
If he thought she was going to go down quietly, he was mistaken. She’d fight all the way.
Hands clenched at her sides, she stared Hank right in the eye.
“You will never win because you’re weak. You’re pathetic, and the real scum is you.”
Chapter Eleven
He grabbed her by the hair, dragging her toward him. Pain shot through her entire body, but she refused to cry out and give him the satisfaction. He wasn’t thick and muscular like most of the men in the Hell’s Slaves, but he was still stronger than her. And angry.
“I was doing you a favor. You were my charity case,” he said. “How many men would offer to rehabilitate a slut?”
“You’re a pig,” she said. “And just as much an actor as I ever was.”
“No, I was actually falling for you. That’s where we’re different. I’m a human being. I saw potential, even though it was hard to overlook your past. But it wasn’t really your past at all. You’re a club whore for life.”
“You don’t know me at all. All you wanted to do was own me.”
“Well, now you’ll be going down with your precious club. And that muscle-bound heathen you ride with? He’ll be the first to go.”
“Leave him alone,” she said.
She thought of Dog and how much she loved him. A wave of desperation crept over her as she imagined him dead or locked up in jail for the rest of her life.
Hank laughed, rocking her back and forth by the hair. She tried to grab at his wrists, but the angle was too awkward and the van was driving erratically, jostling them from side to side.
He finally shoved her away and she fell to her ass. “They’re right behind us. Do you think the Hell’s Slaves will just give up and turn around? No matter what you do to me, they’ll get their revenge on you. Trust me, it won’t be pretty.”
He winked. “That’s what we’re hoping for.”
She asked him what he was talking about, over and over, but he stopped speaking. What were they going to do? She didn’t see any firepower in the back of the van.
What the hell were they planning?
Sable hugged her legs to her chest in the corner of the van. She tried to replay the events in her head, wondering what she could have done differently. But delivery vans just like this one came and went frequently, so she’d thought nothing of it. Even the guards at the gates let Hank in without a second thought.
She remembered the note pinned to the gates not long ago. Was Hank going to kill her? Bury her in a shallow grave just to settle a score with Dog and the club?