My Sugar Biker Daddies

Chapter Eight

Chapter 8: The Inspection

Elsie’s POV

The crushing ache in my chest stayed with me through the night, a dull reminder that my body was hitting its limit. I managed to get a few hours of light, broken sleep, but by the time the sun brought a pale light into the bedroom, the tightness was still there. I forced myself to take slow, deliberate breaths. I could not afford to get weak now. The white wood dust was still hidden under the edge of the blanket, and the screw was tucked safely inside the lining of my mattress. My escape plan was the only thing keeping me going.

But the relative quiet of the suite shattered just before noon.

I was sitting on the edge of the bed, staring at the floor, when the main door of the suite flew open with a loud, violent crash. It wasn't the usual heavy thud of the brothers' boots. This sound was followed by a sharp, barking cough and the tapping of a heavy wooden cane against the floorboards.

My heart jumped into my throat. I stood up slowly and walked to the doorway of my bedroom, keeping half of my body hidden behind the wooden frame.

In the center of the living room stood Stone Callahan.

The eighty-something-year-old president looked ancient in the harsh daylight, his white hair standing out against the black leather of his vest, but his presence was still incredibly terrifying. He leaned heavily on a thick cane, his cold gray eyes scanning the luxury suite with total disgust. Behind him stood Dean, Collin, and Jeremy. All three brothers looked uncharacteristically tense, their shoulders rigid, their usual air of absolute control completely gone in front of their grandfather.

"You're soft," Stone rasped, his voice sounding like grinding stones. He pointed his cane toward the expensive leather couch and then toward the kitchen counter. "Flipping eggs for her? Buying her cameras? I didn't tell you to host a guest. I told you to secure a liability."

Dean stepped forward, his massive frame shifting to place himself slightly between Stone and my bedroom door. "She is secured, old man. The suite is locked from the outside twenty-four hours a day. She hasn't been near a phone or a window."

"I don't care about your deadbolts, Dean," Stone snapped, slamming the tip of his cane against the floor. The sound echoed loudly through the room. "The rival club is pushing our borders because they think we're distracted. They know we're hiding something. If the cops find out she's missing and track her car to our grid, this entire clubhouse gets raided. I want to see the girl."

Stone turned his head, his icy eyes locking directly onto me standing in the doorway. A cruel, thin smile touched his wrinkled lips. "Bring her out here."

Collin reached into my room, his large hand gripping my upper arm firmly. He didn't hurt me, but his grip was tight and unyielding as he pulled me into the main living room. He stood right behind me, a silent, heavy guard.

Stone walked over slowly, the tap-tap of his cane filling the silent room. He stopped just two feet away from me. He smelled faintly of old leather, copper, and cigar smoke. He lifted his cane, using the cold wooden handle to tilt my chin upward, forcing me to look into his terrifying face.

"Twenty-two years old," Stone muttered, his gray eyes narrow and calculating. "Just a little girl with a camera. You have any idea how much trouble you've caused my club, sweetheart?"

I kept my face completely blank. The mask of stone I had built over the last few days did not crack, even though the angina-like pressure in my chest burned fiercely, making it hard to draw air. I stared right through him, refusing to give him a single tear or a plea for mercy.

"Look at that," Jeremy remarked from the corner, though his voice lacked its usual mocking tone; he was watching his grandfather closely. "She doesn't talk anymore, old man. We broke that habit on day two."

Stone didn't look at Jeremy. He kept his eyes on me, his grip on the cane handle tightening against my jaw. "She's not broken. She's hiding. I've been running this club for fifty years, and I know the look of a stray animal waiting for the cage door to open."

Suddenly, Stone lowered his cane and looked at Dean. "Search the room. Both of them."

My heart stopped beating entirely. A wave of ice-cold panic flooded my veins, completely replacing the heat of the chest pain. The window. The white wood dust. The screw.

"Grandfather," Dean began, his deep voice tightening. "We checked the room thoroughly when we brought her in. There's nothing in there."

"I said search it," Stone ordered, his voice rising in an angry roar. "Collin, Jeremy, tear it apart. Check the vents, check the mattress, check the windows. If she has so much as a piece of glass hidden in there, I'll handle her myself."

Collin and Jeremy didn't hesitate. They walked past me and stormed into my small bedroom.

I stood frozen in the living room, my hands clenched into tight fists inside the pockets of my sweatpants. Dean stood entirely still, his unreadable eyes fixed on me, his jaw clenched tightly. Stone stood right next to me, breathing heavily through his nose, waiting.

From inside my room, I heard the violent sounds of my temporary sanctuary being destroyed. The mattress was flipped with a loud thud. The sheets were ripped away. The books Collin had given me were tossed onto the floor, their pages rustling loudly. Every single second felt like an execution sentence. If they found the screw, or if they noticed the white dust hidden under the blanket on the floor, my life was over. They would take me down to the basement, or worse, out into the desert.

"Nothing in the drawers," Jeremy's voice called out from the bedroom.

"Mattress lining is clear," Collin reported a moment later.

Then came the sound of footsteps moving toward the window. My breath caught in my throat. The pain in my chest flared so sharply I almost gasped out loud. I closed my eyes for a fraction of a second, praying, waiting for the shout that would end everything.

"Windows are solid," Collin's voice finally called out. "Bars haven't been touched."

I let out a tiny, invisible breath. Collin must have walked right over the blanket without kicking it aside. He hadn't seen the dust.

A moment later, the two brothers walked back into the living room, looking slightly disheveled. Jeremy shrugged his shoulders at Stone. "Clean. She's just sitting in the dark, old man. Like we told you."

Stone stared at me for a long, agonizing moment. He slowly lowered his cane, tapping it once more against the floor. "You got lucky, little girl. My grandsons think you're a pet. But if I see a single reason to doubt your silence, I will personally ensure you disappear into the sand where your camera can't find you."

He turned around slowly, his heavy boots and cane making a slow exit toward the main door. "Keep her completely isolated," Stone ordered the brothers without looking back. "No more gifts. No more luxuries. Next time I come up here, I expect a final decision."

The heavy main door slammed shut behind him, the lock clicking into place with a definitive, terrifying sound.

The silence left behind was thick and suffocating. The drama had passed, but the air in the room remained completely altered. The brothers turned their attention back to me, their expressions no longer just controlling—they were furious that their grandfather had questioned their authority.

Dean walked over, his massive frame stopping inches from me. He looked down, his face a mask of cold anger. "You survived today, Elsie. Don't make us regret keeping you alive."

I didn't answer. I turned slowly and walked back into my ruined bedroom, my chest aching badly as I looked at the blankets scattered across the floor, knowing I had avoided death by a matter of inches.