Hook (Brutal Chains MC #1)

Chapter 4

Four

Bea

I am not cut out for the homeless life.

I've been walking since last night after Hook kicked me out of the tow yard. The cool Washington air slices through the paltry clothing I have on. Not that I can do anything about that. I don't have any other clothes or money.

This afternoon as I sat on a bench a woman probably a few years older than me walked up and put five dollars in my hand. That's how bad I look. People think I'm a panhandler.

I was grateful simply because the five dollars allowed me to get a little something to eat for the day but the second she walked off I cried like a baby.

How the hell did I let my life come to this?

As much as I don't want to admit it I know the very day my life turned to shit.

May 13, 2017

The day I walked into the restaurant and accepted the slice of chocolate pie Lance had sent to me.

He charmed the pants off me. Literally.

Lance drowned me with compliments and appreciation. He made both big and little gestures. He was interested in my life and what I wanted for my future. In fact, his view for his future sounded nearly identical to mine. Just days after we met I was sure I'd struck gold with him. Lance Toffee was everything I read about in my romance novels, and I felt lucky to have him.

It was all an act.

The problem was by the time I realized he was only playing a part, I was already too far in to get out.

If I could go back in time I'd have never accepted that piece of pie.

The wind howls again and I pull the nearly threadbare hoodie tighter around my body.

I hear the whistles and jeers as I walk by a bar, "Damn baby, I can keep you warm. All night." One of the men says as I try to power through.

When I don't answer, he reaches forward and grabs my arm. I rip away from him, glaring at him as I say, "Keep your fucking hands off me."

His eyes go wide and he lifts his hands in the air in a mock surrender, "No problem sweetheart, I guess the kitty doesn't want to play tonight."

I keep the man in my sight as I continue to walk away from the group of them. The cold I felt seconds ago is gone. Now I feel hot and itchy. Panicked.

He might attack me. He could follow me and try to hurt me.

Picking up my pace, I get to the other side of the street before I make a few turns and wait to make sure I'm not being followed.

How things have changed. A few years ago, I would've laughed off the poor attempt at flirtation. I would have forgotten about him the second I looked away. Now I'm looking over my shoulder, waiting to be attacked. I hate that I'm like this. I hate that Lance has given me this trauma.

I push off the wall I'm leaning on, but before I can take a full step, my head spins and I nearly fall to my knees. Lucky for me the wall isn't far so I fall back and close my eyes to stop the vertigo threatening to take over. My stomach cramps hard and my head pounds.

It's been hours since I've had something to eat, and even longer since I've actually rested.

As much as I don't want to admit it. I need help.

Once I get my head together I turn down the next block and double back the way I came without having to cross paths with the men outside of the bar.

I'm going to the one place I never thought I'd have to go. The shelter.

Tears prick the back of my eyelids the closer I get to what is soon to be my sanctuary. I wish I could call someone for help but I don't have any friends. My family wants nothing to do with me. The shelter is my last option.

Taking a deep breath I turn the corner and see the line for those waiting to get into the shelter for the night. All of them look defeated. There are no smiles here.

The shelter stands in front of me, a large brick building with darkened windows and a line of people snaking around the corner, their faces exhausted and downtrodden.

Just as I get settled in the line I look toward the front to see how long I might have to wait before I can get in.

My heart drops to my feet as I see two men walking out of the shelter. Both of them clearly don't belong. They're dressed in dress pants and suit jackets. Their shirts are probably worth more money than all the money any of the people in line have in their pockets.

It's obvious they're not here for a place to stay. When they start looking out into the line I know exactly what they're here for. Me.

As slowly as I can I back away from the line staying on the side so the other people waiting can block me.

"Hey, watch where you're going bitch!" A woman snaps at me as I bounce against her shoulder.

I put my head down, "I'm sorry. So sorry." I whisper and try to slide by her without making her angrier.

Turning to look over my shoulder one final time, I see the two men staring in my direction and one of them lift their hand to point in my direction.

Shit.

Before thinking up a better plan, I take off in a flat out run. This time, when I bumped into people, I don't bother to say I'm sorry. I need to survive, a few bumps and bruises isn't going to stop me from getting away.

A few people curse and call out as I race to get away. It's doing nothing but drawing more attention to me.

Blood pumps like a freight train through my body as I sprint in the direction of the state park a few blocks away. It's so big I'm sure I'll be able to lose Lance's goons. Of course there's always the possibility that I'll be running into more problems. A dark park at night isn't the safest place for a woman who can barely stand.

Still, I have to try.

The front gate is locked since the park is supposed to be closed. I find a tree close by, climb it and jump over the metal fence designed to keep the public out.

The second my feet hit the ground I take off running again. I don't stop until I can't hear anything but the sound of my heavy breathing and the subtle movement of the animals in the trees.

My eyes stay glued on the entrance of the park just waiting for someone to come. Waiting for the monsters to pop out of the shadows and hurt me.

As my body shakes and the adrenaline leaves my body I realize that's exactly what I need.

I need a monster of my own—someone who's willing to help protect me.

The problem is, I don't know anyone who'd be willing to do that, but I think I know where I can go to find someone who can point me in the right direction.

When I jumped out of my car yesterday and attacked Hook, he didn't seem phased in the least. It was like he was trained for violence. I'm sure someone like him would be able to tell me where I could go to get some help.

After coming to the conclusion that Lance's goons weren't following me in the park, I go out the back way and start walking again.

Every muscle in my body hurts, not only from the sudden surge of adrenaline but also from the lack of food and water. I'm so weak. I just want to rest.

Slowly, I make my way in the direction of Hook's tow lot. Thankfully, it's not very far.

There are only a few lights on when I get there. If I didn't know any better, I'd think it was abandoned. I stop right at the back fence when I hear the sound of metal pounding against metal.

Rusty cars are scattered throughout, some on their sides with parts missing, giving the place a decaying and forgotten vibe.

Kneeling down, I look through one of the holes in the gate and see Hook snaking a long chain into a pile near another car. He's wearing a white wifebeater, and his overalls are down from his top half, hanging from his waist.

The muscles in his arms and chest bulge with every fluid motion. His face looks as if it's glossed with sweat, and the dull marks on his face and arms make him look a little dirty.

Not usually my style, but just watching him with all his rugged manliness makes my mouth water.

The hunger in my stomach intensifies as I watch Hook, my hormones raging as I observe him at work

He's hot in a very dangerous way.

The cold metal of the fence bites into my palms as I grip it tightly. I can feel the rough texture of the ground beneath my knees as I kneel down to get a better look. The heat radiating off the man's body reaches me even from a distance.

Shaking my head, I get ready to stand and walk in. I'm not here to ogle the man. I'm here to find out if he knows someone who can help me.

Besides, for all I know, my first instincts about his character could be right. What if he's an asshole just like Lance? They make jerks in all shapes and sizes.

I have to get my head on straight and stay focused on the prize. I don't want anyone else to manipulate me. I have to be strong if I have even the slightest chance of getting out of this mess.

Taking a deep breath, I stand and reach for the latch on the back door.

I'm grateful I hesitated.

"Good evening." A man's voice rings out, and I watch through the fence as Hook stiffens and drops the chain in his hand to the ground. He wasn't expecting anyone.

Hook turns, and I watch with him as two men walk further into the dim light of the tow yard.

"I'm closed," Hook responds quickly.

"Yes, I see that. I just had a question for you," the man says again.

My breath catches in my throat as I recognize the two of them. It's the same two who were at the shelter that I ran away from. They found me again.

I have nowhere left to run. They're going to catch me, and when they do, this is going to end badly.

So much for getting the help I need.