Rivals 🌈 ✔

63 - World of Pain

Raine rang the doorbell. Juice sent him a text, telling him "they needed to have a serious talk" and that he needed to come as fast he could. At that time, Raine hadn't been in the middle of something worth mentioning, so he told his brothers that there was a family emergency after which he climbed his bike and took off. During the ride to Charming, his head was spinning. It wasn't like Juice to send a vague text like that. Was it about the club, was that the reason he didn't dare to be more specific? Were they withdrawing their permission to let him leave? 

There was no point in asking himself these questions; the only one who could answer them was Juice. He however failed to shake off the uneasy feeling, which didn't exactly go better now he was waiting in front of Juice's door. 

Nobody answered. 

Nervously, he rang the doorbell again. 

Was he too late? Did something terrible happen? 

He reached for his phone. Before he could pull it out of his pocket, he saw a movement in the reflection of the glass in the door. He heard a click, and then, something cold pressed against the back of his head. 

"Walk back slowly," a dark voice sounded.

Raine's heart seemed to sink to his feet. It was a gun... someone pushed a fucking gun against his head! He wasn't carrying one himself—and lashing out with his elbow was way too dangerous. Carefully, he took a step back. And another, and another... Sweat broke out all over his body. 

Who were they? What did they want from him? How did they know he was here? 

Suddenly, a bag was pulled over his head. Before he could even panic, something heavy hit his head. Then, everything faded to black. 

His head was pounding, his eyelids feeling heavy. Yet, Raine managed to open them. He was in a dim room, sitting in a chair. Tied up, his hands behind his back. The walls were empty and grey and after focusing his glance a bit more, he realized he was in a storage unit. There were three other men. Sons. He recognized all three—the president and the two men he'd wanted to help when they were driven off the road. A confusing combination. The scar on his stomach seemed to burn when his glance crossed that of the bald man. Happy, he thought the guy's name was. Right now, the look in his eyes was anything but happy. 

Clay stepped closer, his eyes full of contempt when he looked down at him. "You really thought you'd get away with this?"

Despite his murderous headache, Raine tried to understand what he was talking about. Getting away with what? Starting over with Juice somewhere—was that was he was implying? Did he believe Raine was taking a useful club member from him and was he trying to avoid that right now? If they wanted to kill him, they wouldn't have waited until he woke up, right? Or was this some kind of stupid act of revenge? 

Raine waited in silence, without taking his eyes off the obviously angry man. Even though he tried to stay calm, it felt like something cold and deadly was creeping closer behind him, which would strike the moment he dared to move. 

He was held in a storage unit. Not in the vicinity of the clubhouse, nowhere close to other people. 

A wave of nausea rolled over him. 

The Sergeant at Arms stepped closer, completely recovered after the accident. "Don't get any wild ideas. We'll get the answers we need. The degree to which your corpse will be mutilated and how traumatizing that will be for your daughter depends on you."

Answers? What answers? 

"What's wrong with asking someone questions without making threats, remote storage units and bound hands?" Raine asked, his eyebrows raised while he did his best not to show the fact that the fear was gnawing its way inside his body.