When I'm With You (Little Hollow Series, #2)(30)

He grinds his teeth and I can see him thinking about his next move. “You have no idea what you’ve done, you’ve turned the brothers against Taz and now he knows they want him out of position, he ain’t gonna make things easy for you or them. I have no loyalties to Taz other than him being a brother of the club, but me and Tank have been friends a long time. I’m not blind, Bear. I can see he’s lost his way, hell, I can see it in myself too. But you’ve gotta be smarter about this,” he says, closing the door.

I take a step back. “I was smart, I’ve kept my head down and didn’t let anyone know I was gunnin’ for the position.”

“Exactly! You should’ve let me know. You weren’t smart, you played right into his fuckin’ hands. You think if anyone would’ve voted Slider or Muck in place of me he would’ve allowed it? Fuck no! He needs to feel like he’s surrounded by people he trusts, and that sure as hell ain’t you right now.”

“Why the fuck you telling me all this? I thought you were coming in here to tear me a new one,” I huff out and cross my arms.

“‘Cause I didn’t bring you up stupid. Tank may be a good friend, but I can see what’s happening. Hunter, you sleep, eat and breathe this club, us old fucks have just gotten lost. You’ll make the best motherfucking Pres this club has seen in a long time when it’s your time but for now, you need to use your head.”

I think about what he’s saying, I’m fucking convinced I’m not speaking to my pop. The pop I thought I knew would’ve come in here and knocked me around a little, in fact, I’m still expecting him to shout bullshit and start beating on me. “I think you’re getting a little soft in your age, old man.”

The air rushes out of me as his fist jolts into my stomach. “I may be gettin’ on but I can still throw a punch, don’t you fuckin’ forget it.”

He walks out and I stand up rubbing the spot where he’d hit. I look up as cheap perfume from earlier walks in and leans against my door frame.

“Get the fuck out, Kristal,” I sigh, not having the energy to fight.

She starts sliding down the straps of her top leaving nothing to the imagination as she’s not wearing a bra.

“It’s Krista,” she practically purrs at me.

“Close enough,” I grumble. “But sentiment still applies. Out.”

I push her out of the room, grabbing her top off my floor in the process, and throw it at her. I turn around and push the door closed after me with the heel of my boot.

Twenty seconds later a knock at the door has me swinging it back open. “I told you to-” Seeing prospect Whitey standing in front of me and not Krista, I rub my hand over my growing beard. “What the fuck do you want, Whitey?”

“Smokey said to come tell you there’s a bottle of jack with your name on it.”

Well I don’t mind if I do, anything to drown this shit out.





He leaves me in a battered heap, coughing up blood and gripping my ribs to try and stop the pain that’s radiating through me. He threw punches and kicked and stomped on me until I’d begged him to stop. Not one of my finest moments but at that point in time, I didn’t care. It’s all about self-preservation now, dying doesn’t scare me, it’s whatever he has planned for me before it comes to the end that does. After all, it takes more courage to suffer than to die. And I’m not about to give in easily.

I wince as I push up off the floor into a sitting position, my knee screaming at me, and pull at my bound ankles trying to break free from the cable ties still around them. But they just cut into my skin the harder I pull, and I scream in frustration. Shuffling back against the wall, I drop my legs as I realize I haven’t got the strength to break it off. I wish I had my boots on, I know a trick to get cable ties off with just a shoe lace.

I try to swallow down the lump in my throat, but it just burns with how dry it is. My head pushes back into the wall and I grit my teeth, wishing I could just melt into it and escape from this reality. Away from the dingy, dirty gray four walls that will forever hold the last of my dignity between them as I realize I need to use the bathroom.

I try to hold it in but an hour later, I’m about ready to burst and I shuffle over to the corner and place myself over the bucket, feeling humiliated. There’s nothing to wipe myself with so I just have to deal with it and pull my shorts back up clumsily.

My eyes dart to the dirty mattress, there’s no way I’m going anywhere near that nevermind sleeping on it. I can smell the stench of it from here so I slide down the wall and shut my eyes, shivering as the coldness of the cement floor seeps into my bones.



I don’t know how long it’s been before I hear a clang against the door, but I startle and realize I must’ve drifted off.

Terror. Disgust. It’s kind of a toss up when you wake up covered in blood with every single body part screaming at you in pain.

I try not to move and lean my head back against the wall, watching him out of my good eye. He walks over and places a bottle of water and a plastic box in front of me.

“Don’t say I never give you anything,” he sneers, before slamming the door shut behind him.

With hardly any light in the room, I squint to see what’s in the box, it looks like food and my stomach rumbles at the thought. I pick up the bottle of water and test the lid, it’s not been opened yet so I tug on it and feel the coolness wet my parched throat as I drink it down.