Phantom Rider: The Aftermath | Book 1

Prisoner

Tom's POV - Novosibirsk, Russia

He sat on the bed in the dark corner of the room, staring blankly at the wall. The door clicked open, and he jumped off the bed, standing still as it swung wide.

A woman dressed as a waiter rolled in a cart brimming with food. She looked like one, but the gun holstered at her waist was a dead giveaway. "Eat up! This is your last meal!" she snapped, dropping a bag at his feet. "And here are your clothes!"

Tom stood there, stone-faced, waiting for her to leave. The door locked with a final click behind her. Starving, he lunged at the food, barely chewing as he swallowed huge chunks. Two days without eating had left him ravenous.

He turned to the bag, pulling out the outfit he'd worn the night he almost revealed himself to Bill, blocking the road during the race. Remembering how Victor's guards took him down beating without mercy, but keeping him alive, just to use him for his own vicious games. He stripped off his clothes, wincing in pain. Dark purple bruises covering his chest, back, and thighs. Gritting his teeth against the pain, he put on the familiar outfit, feeling like he was slipping back into his own skin.

Fear took over him, but he shoved it aside. "Your last meal..." he whispered under his breath.

"Are they getting rid of me now?" he wondered. "I did everything they asked. I didn't fight, didn't challenge them." His mind drifted to the strange woman and Bill. Why was his enemy's daughter with him on race night? Why was she ready to jump out of the car when she heard they wanted to kill Bill?

He remembered the desperate moment he'd grabbed her, saving her from falling onto the highway from the speeding car. His bruises were kept fresh, every movement hurt, but he couldn't let his only lead to answers throw her life away so easily.

The door burst open again, louder this time. Four men in black, military-style gear stormed in.

"Kaulitz, it's time to go!" Two stood in front of him, two behind, and they marched him through the labyrinthine hallways of the underground bunker. Silence hung heavy, broken only by the rhythmic thud of boots against concrete as they approached a massive metal door.

Sunlight blinded him as the door creaked open.

"You're free!" The guards stepped back. Tom hesitated, waiting for the sting of a bullet at his back. He glanced back, the guards remained still, their guns lowered.

A dark purple sports car roared up, stopping inches from his toes. The driver stepped out, tossing him the keys.

"Consider this a gift from Miss Petrova!" he said, shoving the keys into Tom's hand.

Tom stared at the sleek, luxurious car, its glossy surface reflecting the sunlight. It was the most expensive car he'd ever seen. He felt the tension ease and realized he had no time to waste. He jumped in, the scent of high-end perfume filling the air. The car was pristine, as if fresh from the factory, except for two old, stuffed toys - a bunny rabbit and a fox - tucked into the passenger door's crease.

He fired up the engine and drove away from the military compound. Mask fell off, and his face turned from emotionless to worried. He needed to get back to the one person he cared about most - his wife. She must be worried sick, not hearing from him for weeks.

"Now how the fuck do I get from Russia to Prague?" He had no phone, no money, and he knew the gas would run out at some point. But the time was running out, and he decided to just do what he knew how to do best - take what he need with force, by robbing places along the way.