Thankfully, he was right. The ambulance arrived a few minutes later. While I was relieved to see them coming, the lights and siren sent my splitting headache to an entirely different level.
I thanked the man again and returned his jacket before the paramedic helped me into the back of the ambulance. Once inside, I collapsed onto the stretcher and told her what I could recall as they whisked me away to the hospital.
“Do you have any other injuries that you’re aware of? Besides your head?” she asked.
“My chest hurts, and it’s kind of hard to breathe, but I don’t know why.”
“Let me help you with your jacket, and we’ll take a look.”
As soon as she unzipped my jacket, her eyes widened in shock. “You’ve been shot,” she blurted and reached for a handful of supplies.
“What?” I shouted and immediately looked down at my chest, causing a sharp pain to shoot through my skull.
I squeezed my eyes shut and rested my head against the world’s worst pillow, willing myself not to vomit all over the nice woman trying to help me.
She urgently shouted something to the person driving before returning her attention to me. “I’m going to cut your shirt off so I can get a better look at your wound.”
“Whatever you need to do,” I said sluggishly. I could feel myself fading quickly. I’d used every bit of energy I had to get myself to the highway, and I didn’t have a single drop left. Knowing I was in good hands, I closed my eyes and drifted into the darkness.
11
COAL
Iknew something was wrong before I opened my eyes. My head hurt, my arms and legs hurt, and I felt extremely groggy.
I listened for a few minutes, trying to figure out what was going on, but I was met with complete silence. The only thing I could hear was an occasional breeze outside.
Assuming I was alone, I opened my eyes and slowly raised my head to take in my surroundings. But it was when I tried to move my arms that I realized the severity of my situation. I was tied to a chair with my arms secured behind my back.
The chair was situated in the middle of a dark room I presumed to be a basement based on the concrete floor, unfinished walls, and lack of windows. The only light I had was what was seeping in from the cracks around the door.
I wiggled in my seat, careful to make as little noise as possible, and tested my restraints. The ropes around my wrists were secure and didn’t have any give, but the ropes around my lower legs were tied over my motorcycle boots and slightly loose. I immediately started working on getting my boots off in hopes of freeing my legs. It took much longer than I cared to admit, but I finally managed to toe off my boots and slip my legs through the ropes.
Then, I set to work on freeing my hands. I could feel the knot with my fingers, but I couldn’t get a good enough grip to work on loosening it.
I considered taking my chances and trying to make a break for it with the chair still attached to me, but I didn’t know what was waiting for me on the other side of the door and thought it would be best to have full use of my hands in case I needed to defend myself.
Instead, I pushed to my feet and slowly walked around the room, feeling along the walls for anything that might help me.
Unfortunately, the only thing I came across was a rough spot on the wall where a jagged piece of brick protruded. It wasn’t going to be quick, and I was certain it would be somewhat painful, but I was pretty sure it was sharp enough to cut through the rope if I tried hard enough.
The spot was too high on the wall for me to sit while I worked the ropes against it and too low for me to stand comfortably. So, I was forced to bend at an awkward angle and spend what had to be hours rubbing the bindings against the sharp piece of wall.
When I heard the sound of the rope finally starting to break, a sense of relief surged through me. But I refused to acknowledge it until my hands were completely free. Because that was only part of the battle. I still had to find my way out of the room and whatever building I was in. Then, I had to get back to my family.
If they didn’t find me first. I had no idea how long I’d been gone, or what had happened to me for that matter, but I knew they would be looking for me the moment they realized I was missing. With any luck, that would have been shortly after I didn’t show up at work. I never missed work unless I was sick, and everyone knew it.
What I couldn’t figure out was why I had been taken or who might be behind it. The club wasn’t involved in any disputes, and we didn’t have any enemies that I was aware of. Neither chapter did. That’s not to say we hadn’t in the past, but those issues had been done and over with for quite some time.
There was nothing going on in my personal life that would have warranted a kidnapping, so I was at a complete loss as to why I was taken. The only possible reason I could come up with was that someone was holding me for ransom, but who in the hell would be stupid enough to think they could kidnap the president’s son and get away with it?
As I continued rubbing the rope against the wall, I tried to remember what happened. The last thing I could recall was getting ready for work. I took a shower, got dressed, and walked out to my truck. Then, nothing.
My heart pounded in my chest at the thought of Aspen being in danger. But she was at work at the bookstore when I was taken, so she had to be safe. Plus, the club would have moved her to the clubhouse once they realized I was missing. There was no need to worry about her.
But a niggling feeling told me otherwise. And that feeling had me rubbing my bound hands faster and harder against the wall. It hurt. A lot. But I didn’t relent. Not when I felt my skin start to tear from the friction and not when blood started trickling down my fingers. I didn’t care what I had to do. Even if I had to cut my own hands off to get out of there and get to her.
Finally, I cut through the rope, but it didn’t fall to the floor and free me instantly like I’d hoped. I had to stretch my fingers to their absolute limit while wiggling my raw wrists to unwind it.