Dragon Royal Bastards MC (Tulsa, OK)

Chase

The Past

Oh, fuck.

Mom is going to kill me.

My head throbs and the alcohol I’d practically drowned in at the party last night churns in my stomach. If she finds out I got wasted again, I’ll be in deep shit. Like lose my car for the rest of the school year kind of deep shit. Not even Dad will be able to save me from a punishment once Mom makes up her mind.

I squint against the light shining in my face. Maybe Donte and I can grab Denny’s before I drag my worthless ass home. Just thinking about Mom’s bitch-out has me wanting to puke my guts out.

“Donte,” I mumble, blindly reaching out for him on the bed but meeting nothing but empty space.

My best friend is nowhere to be found. I’m mildly annoyed that he left me naked in his bed. Usually when we mess around, he does me the courtesy of not finding anyone else to hook up with for the rest of the night. If I find him with my ex, Kiara, I’ll knock his ass out.

I go to roll out of bed, but something is caught around my wrist. Squinting against the harsh light, I try to make out what it is.

Handcuffs?

That motherfucker.

Irritation burns through my veins. It’s not like Donte and I haven’t ever gotten a little weird in the bedroom, but he’s never restrained me before.

“Donte!” I bark out. “Get your ass back in here.”

My words echo as though I’m in a cavern rather than his messy-ass bedroom. I blink against the sunshine and use my free hand to shield the light so I can make sense of my surroundings.

Where the fuck am I?

The metal walls go up probably fifty feet high to windows at the top that allow sunlight in. After a quick sweep of my gaze, I realize I’m on a mattress on a concrete floor in a warehouse situated between two shipping containers. Panic chases away my anger. I sit up, disturbed that I’m completely naked. My clothes are nowhere to be found.

With a grunt, I yank against the cuffs, but they’re secured to a pipe coming out of the concrete floor. They’re squeezed too tightly against my flesh to wriggle out of either.

“Donte!” This time, his name is more of a mewled plea.

Nothing but echoes.

Bile crawls up my throat and I barely roll toward the edge of the mattress in time to puke up all the alcohol I ingested last night. Used condoms litter the floor, making me gag.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

I try to remember what happened last night. The party at Donte’s was huge. Lots of people we didn’t know. College guys and a few hot businessmen. I vaguely remember one guy telling me I had what it took to be a model. That I could be a star if I wanted to. Donte laughed his ass off because he’s a dick, but it felt good to be seen. Basketball was only going to get me so far.

Then what?

The guy gave me another drink. We took a walk to discuss my future.

And then nothing.

Did that guy drug me?

“Donte,” I croak out. “Please stop fucking around.”

It’s a desperate attempt not to freak the hell out. I know what this is. I walked right into it. A fucking trap.

Breathe, man.

I desperately suck in air in an attempt to fill my lungs and calm down. Nothing can chase away the uneasy feeling rattling through me.

The guy and his friend from last night…I can take them. If I can figure out a way to get out of these handcuffs, I can take them both out. I’m not huge for my age, but I’m cut with lean muscle and aggressive as hell on the court. In a fight or die situation, I’m certain I’d fight before I’d roll over and die.

And Mom will find me.

My overbearing, nosy-ass mother will hunt me down. It’s her strength. I’ve always hated her knack for tracking us down and embarrassing the shit out of me and my brothers, but today I’m grateful. She’ll get to the bottom of who was at the party, who took me, and find my location. I’ll get my ass chewed out for drinking and trusting some pervs, but she’ll protect me. She’ll press charges on those assholes and they’ll go to jail. Mom is a shark when she needs to be.

Fuck, I need her to be one now.

But, as time ticks by at a maddening pace that matches the drumming of my heart, I realize no one’s coming.

Clank.

I freeze at the sound of metal on metal. A door creaks open and then footsteps echo toward me. Craning my neck toward the opening of the area I’m in, I try to hunt down the source of the sound. Someone whistles in a jovial tune that sounds like pure evil. The hairs on my body stand on end as fear engulfs me.