She Came From the Shadows (James and Tera: book 2)

22

James' POV (Before Charles discovered the crash sight)

I woke up with a pour of water on me. I was hyperventilating from the cold of the water, as it was already cold in the room we were in, and my feet were bare on the concrete floor, so the water wetting my feet was an add to the freezing I was feeling.

I didn't know where I was or how I had got here. I remember getting T-boned, and when I tried to get out and call for help, there was someone who came and hit me, knocking me unconscious. My head was killing me from all the abuse it had taken earlier, and now my body was aching from the cuts it had sustained from the broken glass of my windows and the force of the Jeep as it was rolling.

I looked over and saw a man with a bucket. His nose had a splint on it, and there was a bandage over his right brow. He was bald, and had tattoos that covered his arms. Now I remember, it was him that had been the one to hit me and knock me out.

And it was him who I had fought and beat at the nightclub the other night. "Rise and shine, boy." He sang in his repulsive voice.

I tried to say something but coughed up some mucus. My body was in pain, including the left side of my ribs, which explains the mucus I coughed up. The wetness I was covered in caused me to start shivering, and wetting the cuts made them sting over time.

I tried to move but I was restrained. My arms were in the air and it felt like metal was around my wrists. I struggled for a second before coming to the conclusion that I wasn't getting out of these chains by myself.

"Wastin' time doin' that." A man with a southern accent came in. "You ain't goin nowhere, boy." He was short, wore a trucker's cap with some dirty jeans and a denim jacket, had a stubbly beard. Possibly mid 30s or early 40s. He was pot bellied and kind of smelled like old alcohol and cigarettes.

"Don't rile him up just yet, Billy." Said a third man. "Let Jackson have his fun first. He deserves it since this kid did a number on him." This guy was tall and slim. He wore a leather jacket and black jeans that were ripped. He had a short afro that looked like it hadn't been treated in a while. He was probably the oldest since he wore the wrinkles and gray in his hair. "We'll have our turn with this faggot lover later."

Jackson, the guy who I fought with, got in my face with a grin on his face. "Remember me, punk?" He asked.

I nodded. "Yeah. You're the guy that got on my bad side." I responded half-heartedly. "Look man, you said some terrible things about my friend. I couldn't-"

He interrupted me with a laugh. "You're joking, right?" He asked after his laughs died down. "You start off by saying I got on your bad side? As if you really did something." He grabbed me by the back of my head and pulled our faces closer. "You couldn't touch me on my best day." He let go and turned away. "Oh yeah, and that day happens to be today."

Billy came behind me and I heard chains clinging. Suddenly the weight of my arms and the chains fell on top of my head, the pressure dropping me to the floor. I managed to power my arms off of myself along with a majority of the chains. "Stand up." He told me while stretching his arms.

I slowly made it to my feet, pain agonizing every inch of me. My head was killing me, my body ached all over, and the cuts on me stung. Along with the wet clothes and the cold air, my fingers could barely even open and close. I see what these guys were up to. Nobody keeps it this cold in a room like this. They wanted me to suffer in every way possible.

Jackson smiled at the sight of me. "Don't worry. You didn't hold back on me, so I'll give you the same courtesy." He got into a stance with both his fists at his face to guard.