Razor Sharp | ✓

Three

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When I'm finally pulled from the car, I'm dragged into an old barn. My eyes try to adjust after being blindfolded for so long.

The timber is old, rotting. The only windows are the ones high enough for me not to see out. The roof is slanted, caving in and there is a patch of it completely missing. The summer sun shines in, making me squint when it reaches me.

I hiss in pain when someone drags my arms behind my back, leading me to sit on a bunch of haystacks in the corner of the barn, opposite the door I've been led through moments ago.

"Why are you doing this?" I grind out. The last thing I want to do is sound weak in front of The Razors.

The man who had been sitting in the back of the car with me doesn't answer. When I try to look back at him, he only pushes my head forward, tightening his grip on my arms. He practically throws me into the hay. I catch myself before I fall face-first into the dirty ground.

I have no idea where the hell I am, but I can guess. I know the Haswell's live on a farm. I'm sure that if one owns a fucking farm, they probably own a barn full of hay, too.

A shiver runs through me, despite the humidity that this summer is already bringing. A bead of sweat runs down the side of my face, but I know it isn't from the weather. I curse under my breath for looking so god damn weak.

The man walks back over to the door, but he doesn't go outside. Instead, he closes it. The hinges rattle violently, and I'm surprised that it doesn't completely fall off.

"Why am I here, exactly?" I say, my voice remaining steady against all odds.

The man doesn't do anything but blink. He doesn't even look at me. He keeps his arm folded against his chest. He wears the black bikie jacket all of The Razors wear. It's like their second skin.

When I looked closer at him, I realise that he doesn't look scary at all. I can tell he's trying to unnerve me, but it's not working. "Um...are you going to say something? Anything? For god's sake, why am I even here?"

The man only clears his throat, but he finally makes eye contact with me. He glares and I just roll my eyes. I know I should be scared. I'm aware of what The Razors are capable of. But for some reason, even though they've kidnapped me, thrown me in a car blindfolded, and led me to some random barn in the middle of nowhere, I don't feel anything but delirious. Maybe it's the sun.

When the door burst open and the man stands to the side, my stomach plummets. This just proves my theory that I am currently sitting in Andy Haswell's barn.

I suddenly sit up straighter, drawing my eyes into slits. I've been trained to face people like him. I might as well pretend to be strong now.

"If something ever happens, don't show any fear, no matter how scared you are," my father had told me years ago. He always prepares us for the worst, but I never thought I'd actually have to use anything he ever told me.

A deep chuckle sounds through the whole barn, disappearing into the cracked roof above. I'd be lying if I say it doesn't affect me. The second bead of sweat rolls down my back, not from the heat either.

"Well," Andy says, stepping out from behind the man guarding the door. "If it isn't Ellie Cartwright. Well done on capturing this one, Marcos," Andy says, clapping the guy on the back.

Seconds later, the one and only, Hunter Haswell steps inside. My blood runs cold. Hunter has always made me quiver in my boots, and not from his good looks. He actually does frighten me, especially after the day he'd punched Noah in the face.