Knuckles by J.E Daelman

Author:J.E Daelman [Daelman, J.E]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: J.E.Daelman
Published: 2023-06-06T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

-:- JOLENE -:-

Being moved to a new location was worrying, but Knuckles made sure I stayed within reach at all times. In the van, he wrapped an arm around me, keeping me safe on the bench seat facing Meat and Wings.

Some men have come in that I recognize, and watching Knuckles' reaction to them entering showed me they were here to get us out if they can.

Colton, I know from the fight nights Lincoln did, and how these people don’t know that Knuckles was his partner on the door at fight nights, I’m not sure.

Knuckles pats my thigh, and turning my head to look at him, he whispers. “Just stay calm, and be ready for whatever they have planned.”

Giving Knuckles a tiny nod of my head to confirm I heard him, I keep my eyes flitting around the room, but trying not to watch the area where the men are stripping out of their clothes and putting on fight gear.

Other men have arrived and are throwing the MC men dirty, even nasty looks. Knuckles nudges my shoulder and grins. “You’ll see some shit in a minute if the others don’t lay off the comments. I can see Colton getting worked up, and Fist isn’t the most grounded when it comes to fighting.”

Jumping when one of Tommaso’s men runs a cattle prod along the bars of our cage, making me swallow hard. “Stop talking.”

“Fuck off asshole, if I wanna talk to my woman I will.” Knuckles stands slowly and takes a step towards the bars, looking the man directly in the eye.

The man grins and, stepping nearer, lifts the cattle prod, but before he can do anything, a fight erupts on one side of the room. Colton and another man are throwing punches, and the two MC men are standing with what you can only describe as shit-eating grins.

Rushing over to stop Colton fighting, the man forgets about us. I realize I’m not taking in what is happening around me. Lincoln always told me to be aware all the time, then if a chance happened to come along, to take it.

Sitting on the bench, I count bad men, as that’s how I see them in my mind, my author's mind. One with the prod near our cage. One near the door on the inside of the room, one on the door outside of the room. One by the men changing ready to fight, and one by the only window in the room. Five men in total.

One door, one window. No other way of getting out of the room, until I happen to look up and see a skylight in the ceiling. Now that could be a way out if we could get up to it.

Nudging Knuckles, he turns to look at me from where he’d settled on the bench next to me. I flick my eyes up, and he frowns, not yet understanding what I’m trying to tell him.

Flicking my eyes up again and giving him a glare, he looks up.

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