Thumper (Cerberus MC)

“Out,” Angel snaps as he pulls the lock from Penny’s cage.

I watch through the grate as he ties her hands together at the wrists before placing another rope around her waist. Then it’s my turn to be pulled from the cage.

Apprehension fills my insides, and I question if now is the time to fight him again. I haven’t since that first time he carried me out of here and up to Javier’s office, but it’s more than clear that today isn’t the same as other days.

“What’s going on?” I ask when he pulls the lock from my door and swings it open.

“Come on,” he urges without answering my question.

The only reason I comply is because Lola wasn’t mad or fighting him when she was escorted out of here earlier. She had to have some idea of what was going to happen to her and didn’t seem upset.

The tears are already falling when he ties my hands like he did Penny’s. Then he ties the rope hanging around her waist to the rope around my hands before tying another length of rope around my waist and continuing with Amanda. We’re all tethered together, trembling and terrified. Angel can’t even look us in the eye.

“What’s going to happen to us?” Amanda asks.

He doesn’t answer. Of course, he doesn’t speak up or give us even the slightest hint of what the hell is going on. He simply walks to the front of our line, gripping Penny around her bicep and urges us all forward. The ascent up the basement stairs is slow, something Angel doesn’t seem exactly impressed with, but he doesn’t shove Penny to go faster.

He leads us to a different part of the house, turning the opposite direction from Javier’s office, and this only ramps up the terror I’m feeling. Nothing physically bad has happened to me in that office. I wouldn’t exactly call it a sanctuary, but I’d much rather be heading in that direction instead of into the unknown.

Cool air washes over us when Angel pulls open a door off the kitchen, and fear settles in every muscle, every bone, until it’s nearly impossible to walk. My jaw is shaking, teeth clattering together because the last time we were outside was when we first arrived, when we were purchased.

Are we being sold? Was Lola right when she said there are worse men out there than the ones that are here?

“I’m scared,” Penny cries, her words not strong enough to describe how we’re all feeling.

“This is for your own good,” Angel says, his voice, as always, emotionless.

I’ve heard those six words many times in my life, and not once did I walk away from the situation feeling like what happened benefited me in any way. Actually, it was always some form of punishment—hot water on a sunburn when I was a little girl, spending several hours in the dark room when Charles Knight caught me kissing a boy from the public school when I was sixteen.

Darkness wraps all around us as we step outside, guided into the darkness solely by Angel’s hold on Penny’s arm and the small flashlight on his cell phone. Shadows dance all around us as clouds move in front of and away from the moon, and for a second, it seems almost peaceful. Then I realize that there’s no peace in the silence, remembering that animals can sense evil and, in some instances, know when something bad is going to happen. I feel that same fear in my soul.

My eyes dart all around. The direction we’re being led is nothing but forest, tall, looming trees that threaten to swallow us whole. We all watched when Miguel had to drag Juan’s body from the basement. Is this a way to get the final result without the same level of work? Are we being led to our deaths?

I plant my feet in the dirt, the socks Javier gave me that first day in his office providing little traction on the damp grass. Amanda bumps into my back and doesn’t immediately pull away.

“What are you doing?” she whispers in my ear, but before I can answer, the rope around Penny’s waist tugs me forward.

“Inside,” Angel says just as he swings open a rusty door.

“Please, Angel. Just tell us what’s going on,” I beg.

“There are some bad men coming to the house tonight. They’re worse than Juan ever thought about being. We’re keeping you out here until they leave. This is how we can keep you safe.” He doesn’t untie us as he goes to shut the door again. “Stay quiet and you’ll be fine. There are bottles of water down there to the left.”

I don’t know what to believe, but I do know I don’t feel an ounce safer after his explanation, especially after he snaps the door closed and slides a heavy sounding lock into place.