Chapter Thirteen
The cold of the concrete floor went straight through my thin clothes. My body would not stop shaking. Every breath I took in the dark cellar smelled like old oil, wet dirt, and rust. I kept my knees pressed tight against my chest, wrapping my arms around myself to keep warm. My hands, still covered in the clean white bandages Jake had wrapped around them, felt numb.
Above me, the heavy wooden floorboards of the garage creaked. I could hear the distant, low rumbles of men's voices and the clank of heavy tools. Every time a loud sound echoed from above, my heart jumped into my throat. I knew what was waiting for me. I knew that Big Tom and Roxy had built a perfect trap. To the club, I was still just the civilian girl whose father owed them a fortune. I was the perfect scap
