"Get up."
The voice was low and strange. Hannah's eyes flickered open for a moment, then closed again. Exhaustion blanketed her brain, leaving her unable to move.
"Get up, Hannah." This time, the demand coincided with a rough shake. Her eyes opened, but she couldn't focus. Everything was blurry and foggy. She blinked her eyes over and over again, trying regain some semblance of equilibrium. She failed miserably. Her head throbbed, and her stomach roiled with nausea. As her eyes started to focus, shock flooded her body.
"Lucius," she whispered. She could hear her heart slamming in her ears. She watched as his green eyes scanned her face and released her hair. A smile of satisfaction played on his beautiful mouth. He licked his lips and stepped back.
"Don't be scared," he grinned. "I'm under strict orders not to hurt you—unless it's necessary, of course."
Hannah sat up slowly, surprised to find that she was in a huge bed. As her eyes adjusted to her surroundings, she saw a beautiful room with high, white ceilings, but it was dark. Not one glimmer of light peeked through the tightly drawn curtains. Hannah couldn't tell if it was day or night. In the corner sat a small mahogany table with matching chairs, and just past that was a door that Hannah was sure led to a bathroom. As her eyes darted from wall to wall, and she noticed a couple of small book shelves, filled with books. As her eyes focused back on Lucius, her soul was filled with disgust.
"What the hell is going on?" she asked. She couldn't remember anything. The last thing she'd remembered was sleeping in Jax and Tara's room. She couldn't recall anything else.
"You don't remember anything?" Lucius asked. He was intrigued. He genuinely wondered how they'd managed to do it. After all, he'd been at the shop with Abel and Victor when they took her. Hannah shook her head in the negative, and Lucius shrugged.
"I wasn't told much," Lucius replied. "All I was told is that they had you, and you were safe."
"Who are they?" Hannah questioned.
"Don't worry about that right now."
"Why wouldn't I worry about that?" Hannah asked. "What the hell makes you think that I wouldn't question it? What the hell are you involved with, Lucius? What the fuck are you doing?"
"You'll find out soon enough," Lucius said cryptically. Hannah gritted her teeth in frustration. Everything still had a haze around it, and the nausea that plagued her during the first trimester still lingered. She swung her legs over the side of the bed and let the wave of sickness pass.
"Why didn't you tell anyone you were pregnant?" Lucius queried.
"How did you know?" Hannah asked.
"You talk in your sleep," Lucius said. "When they brought you here, you were crying about your baby. You were begging for your baby to be safe. Between that and your behavior since the wedding-hiding out in your room, sleeping all day, being sick as hell—it was easy to put together."
"Is that why you were given orders to not hurt me?" Hannah asked. Lucius shrugged.
"You don't listen," he said calmly. "I was given orders to not hurt you—unless it was necessary." Hannah flinched, but he ignored it. "Still, that doesn't tell me why you didn't make your little secret known."
"It was no one's fucking business," Hannah attacked. "The most important people knew: Abel, Jax, and Tara. We didn't plan on telling anyone else until after twelve weeks, when we know the baby was okay."
"And when was that going to be?" Lucius' questions came fast and furious, and even though Hannah didn't want to answer him, deep down she already knew that this man was her contact with the outside world. She had no choice but to answer him.
"Another week," she responded, her lip quivering slightly. "I was almost thirteen weeks exactly on the morning this all went down. How long have I been out?"
"Not that long," Lucius' answer was purposefully vague. He had to maintain some kind of control. By distorting her days and nights, he'd be at a perpetual advantage.
"Do you know what they gave me to knock me out?" A flicker of remorse glimmered in Lucius' eyes, but it was quickly extinguished. There was a piece of him that felt bad for the beautiful pregnant girl before him. Luckily, that piece could be shoved down and ignored at will.
"I don't," Lucius stated. Hannah's silvery eyes were worried as she stared at him.
"So what happens now?" she asked. "I mean, why am I here? How do I get out?"
"You don't," Lucius explained. "This really isn't about you at all—you're just a pawn in the game. Unfortunately, your baby is too."
"But why?" Hannah didn't understand. She didn't know why any of this was happening. She hadn't hurt anyone. She'd stayed to herself and kept her focus on Abel and their baby. In her mind, there was no need to pay attention to anything else.
"You have value," Lucius told her. "You are Jax Teller's daughter-in-law. The man you know now has not always been kind and good. He and his goddamned biker club fucked up many lives and made a shit-ton of enemies. It doesn't matter that you and Abel haven't done anything. You are loved by Jax Teller. You are his family. That makes you valuable. Now that you're carrying his grandchild, you went from being important to being the fucking chosen one."
Hannah's breath caught with Lucius' revelation. I am valuable. She felt like chattel to be bought and sold at auction. The thought nauseated her more than her unborn baby did. She met Lucius' eyes, and she immediately felt uncomfortable under his gaze. He stared at her differently now. Gone was the boy that earnestly dated Ophelia, and in his place was a wolfish gaze and a haughty mouth.
"How did you get involved in all this Lucius?" It was a genuine question. Hannah wanted to know what changed, what happened, but as she wracked her brain for answers, a horrifying thought enveloped her: What if this was his plan all along? Her heart began to pound harder. Poor Opie. She has no idea. She has no clue what this bastard is doing. She sobered. None of us did.
"Don't worry about that," Lucius said smoothly. He walked across the room and leaned against one of the bookshelves. "What you need to worry about is taking care of yourself while you're our guest."
"Your guest?" Hannah was shocked. Lucius made it sound like she was staying a luxurious hotel, and as Hannah glanced incredulously around the room, she realized it wasn't an untrue statement. Her surroundings were beautiful. She was sitting upon opulent, sage and cream satin brocade bedding. All the furniture was dark, rich mahogany. As she stood, she felt the thick Oriental carpet beneath her bare feet. It felt strange against her skin as she walked across the room.
"Where are you going?" Lucius asked, but he didn't move. He just watched as she went to the windows. Without a word, Hannah grabbed the window coverings and yanked them open. To her shock and dismay, the windows were completely bricked over. Hannah's eyes flew wide. She turned and met Lucius' eyes, then she turned back and pulled the curtains on each one of the windows, only to find more of the same. By the last window, she felt a massive lump form in her throat. As she turned to meet Lucius' stare, she dissolved into a puddle of tears. Lucius walked across the room and stood mere centimeters from her. She could smell the scent of his cologne. It, like everything else had lately, made her want to retch. She looked down at her feet. Hannah didn't want to look at him.
Carefully, Lucius tucked his index finger beneath her chin, and he lifted her face upward. She refused to look at him. Her eyes were closed.
"Hannah, you're stuck here," Lucius said softly. His voice sounded almost sympathetic. "You may want to make it as pleasant as you can." Hannah pursed her lips and closed her eyes tighter. Lucius chuckled lightly, and then, unable to help himself, he traced his knuckles across her cheek. Hannah jumped back like she'd been scalded. Her eyes flew open, and Lucius dissolved into a deeper bout of laughter.
"Don't fucking touch me," Hannah threatened. She backed away from Lucius, but he advanced closer, a dark grin on his face. Hannah stopped when her back slammed against the blockaded windows. There was nowhere to go as Lucius advanced towards her. She opened her mouth to scream, but nothing came out. Lucius came closer. His body was so close, the slight rounding of her belly grazed his flat abdomen.
"Oh, Hannah," he said calmly. "Let's keep this friendly, can't we? I mean, after all, we are practically related. Abel is your husband—and Ophelia—" He stopped and smiled. Hannah's skin crawled. "Well, let's just say I know her well. Biblically."
"You're sick," Hannah fumed. "I don't know how you managed to get me here or who made you do this, but if you think Abel won't find me, you're out of your fucking mind."
Lucius laughed. The sound was low and melodious. His green eyes sparked as he gazed down at her.
"I don't worry about dear old Abel," he said solemnly.
"What do you mean?" she questioned.
"You're gorgeous when you're angry, Hannah," he said menacingly. "I've always thought so."
"Fuck you," Hannah snarled. Lucius chuckled deeply.
"Maybe that can be arranged too," he teased playfully, but Hannah felt her ire rise. Heat flooded her face as she gritted her teeth in frustration. With a playful stare, he pulled away and turned towards the door. "I'll be back with your food throughout the day. Get used to seeing me, darling. I'm all you have." As he sauntered away, Hannah watched as he grabbed a ring of keys from his pocket. Twisting the doorknob, Lucius opened the door.
"Wait!" Hannah yelled before he could swing the door open.
"Yes, Hannah?" he said coolly, unfazed.
"What happened to Abel?" Hannah asked. Her eyes were dark with worry.
"I don't know what you're talking about," Lucius responded casually, feigning innocence.
"You said you wouldn't worry about Abel, Lucius," Hannah said quietly. "Did something happen?"
Lucius chewed thoughtfully on his lip. He was toying with her, and Hannah could tell he savored every single play in the cat and mouse game.
"Nothing of any consequence," Lucius stated. "I mean, it was just a small heart attack." A brilliantly evil smile spread across his handsome features as he watched Hannah's face crumble. She sank to the floor, weeping.
"What?" her voice broke. "Abel—he had a heart attack?" Lucius nodded, almost imperceptibly. "Is he okay? Do you know how he is?"
Lucius smiled, purposefully ignoring her question. Pure hate raged in her eyes as he opened the door. Typically, Hannah would try to look out that door; she'd try to gage her surroundings and find a means to escape. Now, devastated and heartbroken, her only thought was of Abel.
"I'll see you soon, Hannah-Belle." Hannah's eyes lit hot with unbridled fury.
"Only Abel can say that," she yelled. He laughed uproariously, enjoying her pain. Without a goodbye, the shut the door behind him, locking it soundly.
Assured that the door was soundly locked, Lucius walked down the corridor. He enjoyed this game; in fact, he could get used to it. He hoped that it would continue; there was a small part of him that wondered if Hannah would forget her husband, if given the chance.
"I'm one sick bastard," he said aloud.
As he neared the stairs, he didn't know what he enjoyed more; the thought of Hannah switching to his side, or the sound of Hannah's screams following him into the darkness. As peel after peel of sadness and heartbreak trailed into the corridor, he realized that, both prospects excited him. They excited him in ways that Hannah couldn't even begin to imagine.