Club X Complete Series by K.M. Scott

Author:K.M. Scott [Scott, K.M.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, Romance, Erotic
ISBN: 9781941594469
Publisher: Copper Key Media, LLC
Published: 2016-07-10T22:00:00+00:00

Chapter Five

Abbi

I didn’t know how long I pounded on the steel door and yelled for Kane to let me out, but I finally gave up when my voice went hoarse. Who the hell did he think he was kidnapping me and keeping me hostage in his shitty apartment? Exhausted, I threw myself on his bed and let the tears finally fall. I cried for what Aaron had done to me. I cried for how fucked up my life was. I cried for being stuck in these tiny rooms of a man who was basically a stranger to me.

I cried until there was nothing left in me.

When there finally were no more tears, I wiped my face and looked around at my prison cell for the night. Kane owned part of Club X, and he lived in this cheap three room apartment? Why? Was he a lesser owner than Cassian and Stefan? Or maybe the club didn’t make much money.

The white painted cinder block walls stood bare of any pictures of family or friends or even cheap wall art people hung up to give their homes some feeling of warmth and hominess. Looking down, I saw the wood floor looked old and beat up, like something heavy had been dragged across it, leaving deep scratches and dents, and hundreds of feet had trampled over it when the building was a factory.

Kane’s metal twin bed with its single pillow sat in the corner against two walls, making me feel like this place was a prison even before he’d locked me in here. No knick-knacks sat on shelves. Only a single dresser stood on the wall opposite the bed, but even that had nothing sitting on top of it.

My curiosity about Kane and all of this made me want to snoop, so I opened the top drawer of the dresser and looked inside. All I saw were the usual socks and men’s underwear, although the guy seemed to like black a lot, if this drawer was any indication. I opened the second drawer and found shirts neatly folded. The drawers below that one were very similar, with both of them filled with Kane’s long sleeved T-shirts I’d seen him in at work. Lifting one to my nose, I inhaled the fresh smell of laundry detergent.

I headed toward the closet, hoping to find something to tell me more about the man who I now considered my jailer. Opening the door, I found just a few dress shirts like the one I wore and maybe a half dozen pairs of jeans and pants. It was the least cluttered closet I’d ever seen in my life. But on the floor sat a box, and crouching down, I saw it contained old records like the kind my parents used to love listening to. I thumbed through the albums and saw all those bands from the 60s and 70s the classic rock stations liked to play.

Nothing about his clothes told me much of anything about Kane, other than he definitely wasn’t like his brother Cassian.

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