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sense of gravity shift. She had no idea where they were going, but Blaze seemed confident, so she knew he was familiar with their destination.
    “Almost there,” he called back. The motorcycle continued to move more slowly, and Noelle could hear the other bikes nearby as they cruised to a halt. She could hear some of the men calling to each other and hooting and hollering.
    “Alright,” Blaze said, as he brought the bike to a stop, his feet touching down on the ground. “I can’t let you see the outside of the building, but I can take your blindfold off once we’re inside.”
    “What the fuck is going on!” Noelle cried. “Why won’t you tell me where the hell we are?”
    “I will once we’re inside,” he said softly. “And just—’’ his voice faltered, “—be prepared. I think you’re going to be surprised by what you see inside.” He reached out and helped Noelle off the motorcycle. She climbed down as gracefully as she could manage.
    “Oh right. As if I’m not surprised enough already,” she snapped. Now that she didn’t fear for her life and was off the death machine, she was beginning to come around. And Blaze was the obvious target for her anger and distrust.
    “I’m sorry, but I asked you to trust me and you said that you did.”
    Noelle couldn’t argue with that, and she let Blaze take her hand and lead her wherever they were going.
    “That was fucking awesome, Blaze!” came a male voice.
    “Total adrenaline rush!” someone else called out.
    “We hit the jackpot!”
    Noelle turned her head towards each voice, wondering how many men had helped him hold up the high-roller room and how she factored into it all. Was Blaze just looking for any woman that he could take hostage? Or did he decide to use Noelle on purpose?
    None of it made sense, and her mind swam with questions. For the second time that night, she was sobering up and she wondered what time it was. She’d told Liz and Quinn that she would be back by sunrise. If she wasn’t back in the morning, they were going to freak out, especially since they had been hesitant about leaving her with Blaze.
    She felt herself being pulled indoors, and suddenly the area erupted in cheers and whoops. Noelle jumped at the ruckus, and Blaze wrapped his hand around her waist, pulling her towards him. She felt him reach up and remove her blindfold.
    She blinked in the lights, her eyes adjusting, and she tried to process the scene before her.
    They were in a large room, though it didn’t quite seem like they were in a house. The room was too big and the ceiling too high. First, she noticed the people. The men seemed to be some kind of bikers. Most were dressed in black jeans and dark tank tops, their arms covered with various tattoos. Some looked cleaner cut while others were scruffier looking, with wild hair, beards, and goatees. Noelle noticed that the men ranged in age from what looked like barely twenty years old to upwards of sixty.
    Through the thick hazy smoke that hung in the air, she was able to make out a logo high up on the back wall: WIDOWMAKERS MC. The words were wrapped in a crescent around a symbolic coffin, the lid cracked just enough to expose a skeletal hand reaching for freedom.
    And then there were the women. The first word that came to Noelle’s mind was whores . The women, who Noelle assumed were wives and girlfriends, were dressed in skimpy, tight, revealing clothing. And some of them didn’t have the bodies to pull it off. One woman’s nipples were nearly hanging out of her sequined dress, and Noelle had to look away in embarrassment because she could literally see up the woman’s skirt. Many of them had poor dye jobs, and a handful of them had platinum-blonde hair with dark, scraggly roots growing in.
    The room, which was the size of a small hotel lobby, was filled with area rugs, mis-matched couches, tables, TVs and pool tables. People seemed to be sitting in groups, each little group occupying a particular corner of