Chapter Twelve

I wake up with a sudden jolt. My heart racing. My breathing shallow. My eyes frantically search the dark, trying to see what has made me wake up so suddenly. The sound of a car horn honking outside makes me jump, the flashing from the car's headlights illuminating the room for a second. Of course, I fell asleep on the sofa downstairs! What time is it?

I take a few deep breaths, trying to calm my erratic heart. 'I'm okay, I'm safe' I repeat in my head, hoping that it will calm my nerves. I can feel the cold sweat dripping down my back. I must have been having one terrible dream.

I shake my head, trying to clear my thoughts. Maybe a cup of tea will calm me down. I push myself up from the sofa, stretching my arms out above me. I don't know why I think it is a good idea to fall asleep on the sofa, I always wake up feeling stiff and ill-rested. Blindly, I make my way over to the kitchen.

"Ow, son of a bitch!" I hiss, my toe painfully connecting with the side of my coffee table. I hobble on one foot, trying to hop the pain out of my foot. I curse as I walk over to the wall opposite me, flipping on the light to the kitchen.

"Such un-lady-like language," I freeze, bent over trying to stop the pain that is shooting up my foot. The voice is clearly amused by my outburst, but it's not a voice that I recognise. I slowly lift up from my crouched position, looking into the kitchen, shocked to see a tall, muscular figure sat on one of the stools at the island in my kitchen, a mug in their hands with steam coming from it. After a second, I realise that I have seen this man before, briefly, but I know him.

"Why don't you come join me, and we can have a chat," the man says as if he were talking to a child. I quickly glance behind me at the door, remembering that Callum should be stationed out there. If I scream loud enough, he should be able to hear me, and maybe he'll call Kayden.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you, sweetheart," I turn my head back around, coming face to face with the barrel of a gun, pointed directly in between my eyes. I can feel my body beginning to shake, my heart beating loudly in my ears. The cool metal of the gun rests gently against my forehead. An involuntary whimper leaves my mouth as fear encases my body.

"Now, come and sit down, so we can have a friendly chat," the man reaches out, grabbing my arm in his grip, but it is not harsh. His grip is gentle as he leads me over to one of the stools at the island, helping me sit down on it, and all I can do is stare at him, paralysed by fear and the radiating dominance that is projecting itself from this man.

"Okay, lets start by you telling me your name," he says softly, but his soft gesture is countered by the gun laying on the table, his fingers tapping it periodically as he sits opposite, his eyes pinning me to my seat.

"D-Dr-Drew," I stutter, my voice shaking just like my body.

"Your full name please, sweetheart," his lips lift up into an amused smirk, his eyes twinkling with some unsaid emotion, but it makes me gulp nervously.

"Dr-Drewanna San-Sanders," my voice is quiet, just above a whisper, but he hears me, his smirk turning into a small smile.

"Drewanna, that's a beautiful name. I'm Dylan Lehmar," he extends his hand out, obviously wanting me to shake it, but I can't move, my hand stuck to my lap, shaking as they clutch each other. Dylan lets his hand fall to the table, a deep frown taking it's place on his face.

"Do you live here alone, Drewanna?" he cocks his head to one side, regarding me cautiously, as if I was his prey, getting ready to bolt at any second. I nod slowly at his question, my eyes focused on the gun that his hand is resting on, the barrel still pointed in my direction.

"You know, its dangerous for you to be left alone in this big house, who knows what kind of stranger could break in," the smirk is back on his face, his eyes laughing at me, seeing me as a joke as I sit motionless on the stool opposite him, doing nothing to defend myself. Kayden was right, I can do nothing to protect myself against an armed man. I feel powerless.

"Wha-what do-do you wan-want fro-from me?" I stammer, my eyes looking back down as his fingers begin to methodically tap against the gun, toying with the safety.

"Oh, I don't want anything from you, Sweetheart," he picks the gun up, his finger stroking the trigger, a malicious twinkly tainting his eyes, making his face look dark and dangerous, his mouth holding a murderous smirk.

"I just want you," my eyes widen at his declaration, my breathing stops and my heart falters for a second. I can feel the beads of sweat forming on my forehead, on my back, on my palms, but my body has gone cold with fear, my blood freezing in my veins as I stare down the barrel of the gun to the madman wielding it. Abruptly, he gets up from his stool, the loud slam of it hitting the floor making me jump. I can feel the tears beginning to brim in my eyes as he walks closer to me, the gun still in his hand.

He stalks up behind me, out of my view, but I can hear him behind me, his breath tickling the hair at my ear. I can't move. I desperately want to flinch away from him, I want to run for the door, to call for Kayden, for anyone who could help me; but I am glued to the stool.

"It may not be today, or tomorrow, it might not even be next month, but you will be mine, and I will kill anyone who gets in my way," his words are whispered in my ear as he pushes the hair out of his way. I whimper as I feel the gun resting against my other shoulder, the threat of it still hanging in the air out of my view.

"West can pretend to think that he can protect you, but he has no clue what he is up against," I flinch away as I feel Dylan's nose push it's way into my hair, sniffing aggressively as he does.

"I bet you don't even know who is he, do you?" I shake my head frantically, my throat constricting as I feel the gun pushing against my temple, tapping it gently a couple of times before resting there, the cold metal making my scalp prickle with apprehension and fear.

"He doesn't deserve you, you know? He is nothing but a child, he doesn't know how to treat a woman like I do. Did he do this to you?" I feel Dylan's hand tugging at the bandage on my head, unravelling it so that he can look at the damage.

"Ple-please don-don't," I manage to choke out, the tears finally breaking free and running down my cheeks.

"Did he do this to you?" He asks again, he voice harsher. The gun pushes harder at my temple, a silent warning to what will happen if I don't answer his questions.

"No," I whisper shakily.

"Then who did?" He throws the bandage in front of me. My eyes zero in on a red patch staining the fabric, the colour standing out in comparison to the white of the material. "Who?!" Dylan suddenly shouts, making me jump, a cry of fear leaving my mouth.

"To-Tom Cla-Clarke," I sob, my eyes still not leaving the sight of my blood on the bandage.

"The fighter? Why would he do this to you?" Dylan walks back into my view, his eyes narrowed, pinning me down, the gun now pointed at my face.

"I-I-"

"Don't bother trying to lie to me, tell me why," he growls, his eyes darkening as they stare into mine. He doesn't flinch at my tears like Kayden did. This man wants to scare me, that's the whole point of him being here.

"He-he thoug-thought me an-and Kayd-Kayden wer-were sle-sleeping to-together," I stutter out through my cries.

"Are you?" I can see the anger rising in his face at the question. His hand tightens around the gun, his finger moving ready over the trigger. I shake my had vigorously, my eyes pleading with him not too, begging for him not to hurt me.

Both of our heads snap in the direction of the front door. The sound of an engine roaring up the drive deafening the silence in the house. A cry of relief leaves me as I realise that Kayden is back, that I am safe. I turn back in the direction of Dylan, but I am shocked to see that he is no longer there. All traces of him gone. He left just as sudden and quiet as he arrived.

"Drew," I hear the front door open and its like a blanket is lifted from me, the blur and fuzz of everything that just happened suddenly crashing down on me. The gun, Dylan, the threat of a bullet at any second, at any wrong answer.

I break down into hysteric sobs, trying to get off of the stool, but my legs give way, leaving me hurtling to the ground. I feel the dull ache shooting through my knees as they meet the ground, but my body is numb, my mind still trying to wrap itself around what had just happened.

"Drew, look at me. Come on, look at me, baby, what's wrong?" Kayden is at my side in seconds, lifting me into his lap as he falls onto his knees next to me. He grabs my head in his hands, forcing my head to look up at him.

His eyes are frantically searching mine, looking for any damage that would cause such a sudden outburst, but all I can do is stare back, sobs still wracking through my body, tears freely running down my face.

"Drew, what happened?" His thumbs run across my cheeks, trying to dry them, but more tears fall in their place, keeping my cheeks moist.

"He-he wa-was he-here," I manage to choke out, a new wave of sobs shaking my body. Kayden's hands still on my cheeks, his body going tense as his eyes dance with sudden worry and terror.

"Who? Who was here?" his voice is low, his chest vibrating with every word. The feeling calms me a little, but then the memory of the gun being pointed in my face brings back the fear that is taking control of my body, imprisoning me.

"He had a gun," I cry out, the fear radiating through my words.

"Drew, I need you to tell me who it was," Kayden's voice is stern, but his touch on my face is soft, his thumbs still gently running against my cheeks.

"Dy-Dylan," his name tastes like poison on my tongue, bile rising in my throat at the thought of his nose in my hair sniffing me. Kayden shifts, pulling a phone from his pocket, his eyes only leaving mine for a second to find a contact, pressing the phone to his ear. He pulls me into his chest, his chin resting on the top of my head, his free hand running up and down my back, a gesture that helps calm down my shaking body.

"I need everyone at Drews house, now," Kayden barks into the phone hanging up as quickly as he dialled the number. I hear him put the phone down on the floor next to us, and then I am encased in both of his arms. His smell, his warmth, his heartbeat against my ear; everything about him makes me feel safe and calm.

"I am so sorry, Drew," he cradles me in his arms, rocking us back and forth as he apologises over and over again, sorry for leaving me alone, for putting me in this danger, for not being here to protect me. All I can do is sit in his arms, my body still shaking from the aftermaths of my fear. I can't get the image of the gun between my eyes out of my head, the feel of the cold metal still burning against my skin.

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We sit here on the floor, me cradled against his chest for minutes? Hours? I don't know,. My tears have dried, my sobs reduced to the occasional hiccup, yet, Kayden is still holding me just as tightly, his arms refusing to let me go. Not that I'm complaining. As long as I am in his arms, nothing can touch me. I know that in Kayden's arms, I am safe.

Abruptly, my front door slams open, making me cry out and grab onto Kayden's back tightly, burying my face in his chest to shield me from whatever is now in the house.

"For fuck sake, there's something called knocking!" Kayden hisses at whoever is now standing next to us. Through my fear, I notice that his body isn't tense, but more relaxed then when it was just the two of us. It must be Seth! I pull my head from Kayden's chest, looking over to the door, but my cheeks flame with embarrassment as I see the entirety of Kayden's gang standing in my house, looking down at Kayden and I in shock and confusion.

"It sounded urgent, we didn't know if the two of you were in danger," Seth bites back, but his voice doesn't hold as much authority as Kayden's, but it does hold the same amount of worry.

"Are you okay, Drew?" he asks, turning his gaze away from Kayden, his stare now fixated on me. I blush at the attention, the eyes of everyone turning to me along with Seth's. I nod my head shyly at him as he gives me a gentle, reassuring smile.

"Lehmar was here," Seth's demeanour changes at Kayden's words, his body going tense, his posture straightening. I try to push myself out of Kayden's arms, knowing that he and the boys need to talk, and I need space to think.

"Kayden, I need to get up, please" I whisper to him when his arms don't let go of me. He looks down at me, a reluctant look on his face, but he seems to snap himself out of it, closing his eyes and shaking his head a little before letting me go.

I push myself up, brushing myself off as Kayden gracefully picks himself up off the floor, standing tall next to me. I keep my head down as I make may way into the kitchen again. My gaze flits over to the bandage still laying on the island, my blood still covering it. How do I keep finding myself in these positions? How do I keep letting myself be this vulnerable? I am a fighter! I have beaten men three times my size, three times Kayden's size even! I shouldn't be this weak! I shouldn't let these men take advantage of me like this!

"Drew?" I jump as a hand touches my shoulder, whirling around, my body ready to fight. "Hey, it's okay, it's only me," Kayden holds onto my hands gently, stopping any attack that I could throw at him. I sigh, my body relaxing.

"I'm sorry," I mutter quietly, staring down at the floor in embarrassment, knowing that all of the boys are watching our exchange.

"It's okay, its natural for you to be on edge," He tucks a strand of hair behind my ear, gently cupping my face and making me look into his eyes. "You're safe now," his voice is soft and reassuring, his thumb slowly strokes soothing circles across my cheek as we stare at each other, blue eyes to green.

I notice a few of the boys walking into the kitchen, surrounding me. A couple of them go out of the door leading to the garden, the others stand and watch me closely, their eyes following mine and Kayden's every move as he leads me over to the island, pulling out a stool for me to sit on.

"What did Lehmar say to you, Drew?" Kayden says lowly as he takes the seat opposite me. The images of Dylan sitting there, tapping the gun as his eyes pin me to the seat, flash through my mind. I can feel my hands beginning to shake; I don't want to look weak in front of Kayden's gang, so I quickly pull my hands onto my lap, clasping them between my thighs, hoping that no one will notice.

"Drew, you're safe now, he can't get you," Kayden reassures after awhile. I look up at him through my lashes, my hands still shaking violently in my lap.

"He-he said that he wants me, that he will kill anyone who gets in his way," I whisper, tears springing to my eyes again, but I beg then not to fall, not in front of these boys. Kayden's body tenses, his eyes turning hard as he continues to stare at me, thinking over my words and what they mean.

"Sawyer," Kayden suddenly snaps, making me jump a little in my chair. A tall boy emerges from the back door, dressed in black jeans, black hoodie and black converse. I look around the room to see that that is how all of the boys are dressed, including Kayden. The boy has short blonde hair which is gelled to perfection on top of his head.

"Yes, sir?" The boy replies, reminding me of a soldier answering to his commander. I guess that that is kind of how these boys operate. Kayden is their leader, they follow every order that he gives them without question.

"Have you found Hanley yet?" I frown at Kayden, his eyes still focused on mine, their gaze never wavering from my grey eyes.

"Yes, sir, he was shot once in the head," Kayden closes his eyes at the new information. Who is Hanley?

"Who-who was sho-shot?" I choke out, a lump forming in my throat .

"Drew-"

"No! Who was it, Kayden?" I say a little stronger than before,. My head is beginning to ache from everything that has happened tonight. My body is heavy and all I want to do is go to sleep, wake up and find that this has all been a horrible nightmare. Somehow though, I can't see that happening.

"Callum," my throat closes, my mouth going dry. My heart stops beating and my breathing stops.