We'd all settled into some kind of routine over the last few days. There were always at least three guys around, while the others went off and dealt with club business. I never ask what they get up to, I still think I'm better off not knowing. There'd been a few more girls around, but they weren't exactly what I had in mind. These were the girls you would usually associate with an MC: fake tan so orange it almost blinded you if you looked too close; nails so long I'm surprised they hadn't ripped them all off yet, and about three inches of makeup caked on their faces. I was impressed though. I thought Smiler would be paying them attention, but the only girl who tried to drape herself all over him was pushed away and told to find some dignity - his words. It was a good job too because I'd been about to cut the bitch. None of them had gone near him since. I'm not sure if he did it for my benefit or not, but I appreciated it either way.

I'm currently sitting at a table with Mel, Jay and Banjo, watching Smiler and Skids play pool, while Ash gets his kicks taking the piss and distracting them. Mel and I had become quite close, bonding over the stresses these idiots bring us. Pest and Philly are sat at another table with two of the new tag-a-longs attached to their faces. The poor boys have my sympathy.

I feel my phone buzz in my bra - come on girls, we all do it rather than squeeze it in a pocket in our skinny jeans - and I freeze. I reach into my bra and pull it out, with Jay and Banjo both focused on my actions. I know they're not perving though, we all know there's only one reason my phone would be buzzing. I don't know why I hadn't ditched it. I guess it was some sick need to see if I was contacted again. I don't look at the others as I flip it open to read the text.

My hand shakes and Jay holds it, taking the phone with his other hand. He takes a quick look and puts it down on the table before looking at me.

"Ignore it. You're safe here." I nod, trying my hardest to believe him, but he can tell I don't really. He sighs. "Come on. Let's go dance. Forget about all that for now."

I smile, as honestly as I can, and let him pull me to the other end of the bar. I lose myself in the music for a while, just enjoying the distraction. We don't dance as close as we did last time, but I can feel eyes on us. A thought springs to mind and my eyes snap open wide. I turn to face Jay.

"You have to promise me something." I swallow loudly and he raises an eyebrow at me. We've stopped dancing now, just standing there looking at each other. "If they come, if they get me, you have to promise you won't let them take me alive." He goes to argue but I put a hand up to stop him. "None of the others would do it. But I'd take a quick death by a bullet over having to live through that again any day. You'd be saving me."

He cups my face in his hands but before he can speak a hand grabs my arm and yanks me away. Smiler stands in front of me, squaring up to Jay, but his hand is still tight on my upper arm. I try to get away, but his grip is tight enough to hurt. Jay sees me wince and his face contorts with anger.

"Get your fucking hand off her. You don't touch her like that!" His voice is quiet, and it's scarier than if he was shouting. The others are all silent, watching, and I shake my head at Skids, letting him know not to step in. "You're hurting her," Jay says, sounding calmer now.

Smiler turns to me, and his face drops when he sees how tight he holds my arm. "Fuck. I'm sorry, baby. I don't know what I'm doing." He let's go of my arm and goes to step away, but I grab his hand.

I look back to Jay, begging him for an answer with my eyes. He nods, but he looks heartbroken. I send him a small smile and lead Smiler back to our room, grabbing my phone off the table on the way past.

Smiler sits on the edge of the bed with his head in his hands, and I know he hates himself right now. Maybe I should be angry with him, but he would never hurt me intentionally, and I'm pretty sure he's punishing himself enough for the both of us right now. I crouch in front of him and pull his hands away. He looks at me and the pain in his eyes takes my breath away.

"It was innocent. He was looking out for me," I tell him, handing him the phone. He reads the message, and in the next second the phone is flying across the room, shattering into pieces against the wall. "Hey. I'm fine. I'm with you guys," I tell him, although the words do little to ease my fear.

"I'll never let them hurt you," he says, leaning down to kiss me gently.

I smile and tell him I know because it's what he wants to hear. I pull him from the bed and go to leave the room, but he asks me where we're going. I grin at him.

"If you don't give Ash his game of pool, he's going to be saying you're too pussy to play him for weeks to come."

It works and he relaxes, entering the bar with me and instantly throwing insults at Ash. Mel is behind the bar by the coffee pot and I join her. She hands me a cup and grins at me.

"Thought you'd want one. That was interesting,"

"It's like children fighting over toys, I swear."

We both laugh and prop ourselves behind the bar watching our men, who are acting like teenage boys, pushing and shoving and hurling names at each other, all while laughing loudly. The music is so loud the floor shakes. I guess that's why we don't hear the bikes pull up, and why we only know they're there when the canister smashes through the window.

As soon as the gas starts leaking from it, I know it's CS. I hear the men shouting but my focus is on Mel. I grab her hand and tug her towards my room, telling her to hold her breath. As I pull her into my room and lock the door, Sammy jumps off the bed, at my side in an instant. I'm glad I'd shut him in here now. She's shaking, and I see the tears on her cheeks. I pull her into the bathroom and grab a towel.

"What are you doing?" She asks as she watches me soak it under the taps.

"This will help stop the gas coming under the door," I explain. I shove the towel against the door, covering as much of the gap as possible, before pushing the bed in front of it. It won't keep people out for long, but it will slow them down a bit.

I grab Smiler's spare gun from under his pillow and hand it to Mel.

"Stay in here, no matter what. If anyone that's not with us comes through that door, shoot them. Do not leave this room until either me or the guys come for you, okay?"

She nods. "What are you doing?"

I frown. "I'm going to find out what the fuck's going on. Don't worry about me." I turn to Sammy. "Guard her." He moves to sit in front of her when she slides down the wall, trying to get comfortable around her bump. "I'll be back," I tell her, before closing the bathroom door, throwing my shoes on the bed and heading to my window.

I knew my sneaking skills would come in handy one day. I'd learnt when I was little that sneaking up and making people jump was highly amusing, and I got better at it through the years. Then I used what I learnt to get in and out of places I shouldn't be. I've never been caught, and I really hope my luck isn't about to run out.

I make my way around the building, trying to ignore the pebbles that dig into my sock-clad feet. Peering round the corner to the front of the building, I almost swear out loud. There are at least a dozen bikes, and the men all stand in front of the pub aiming guns at the door. I'm guessing they thought everyone would run out when the canister went off, and I'm grateful the guys saw right through their plan. Although as I see automatic weapons being handed out, I'm hoping they're clever enough to stay down in there. There's no door at the back of the building, so the men inside are trapped.

I sneak back around the corner and grab one of the fuel cans the guys keep around there. The music is still blaring from inside and I hope it's enough to cover any sounds I'll make. I go back to my window and shuffle back through, calling out to Mel to let her know it's me. I wish I could get her out but there's no way she can get through the small window with that bump.

"What are you doing?" She asks, watching me grab three bottles of vodka from the chest of drawers.

"Hoping above everything that this works," I mumble. I take a pillow case off the bed and rip it to shreds before turning back to her. "Things are gonna get really loud soon. Stay in here!" Before she can answer I'm back through the window with the bottles in my hands.

I grab the fuel can on my way, and hope the bikers out front are too busy to worry about anything behind them. Everything is quiet apart from the music, and I wonder what the guys are doing in there. Then my focus is completely on what I'm doing. I undo the cap on the fuel can and leave it next to the wall as I sneak my way around behind the bikers. God, I hope this works. I've never been religious, but if this works I just might start believing in some higher power.

They were kind enough to leave their bikes close together in a line, so I make my way along, pouring the fuel over all of them as I go. The splashing, as it hits the metal tanks, sounds so loud to me, but no one else seems to notice. Maybe they've been deafened by the sound of my heart thundering against my ribs. I know I have. I manage to finish pouring and get back to where I left the vodka bottles.

I unscrew the caps and pour some of the alcohol onto the rags I made from the pillow case, before shoving them in the necks of the bottles. I've never tried this, and am just going off what I've seen in films. Although I'm pretty sure they use petrol, not vodka. Please let this work and reassure me I haven't been duped by special effects my entire life!

I light the first rag and it goes up with a whoosh. Shit, I thought it'd be slower than that. I launch it towards the bikes but it lands too far away and nothing happens. The vodka doesn't even go up in flames. Fuck! The men all turn behind them when they hear it smash and I use the time to try again. This time it lands between two of the bikes and it fucking explodes! Yes! I feel like a damn boss right now.

I'm too busy with my internal happy dance to realise that one of them saw where the bottle came from. Their bikes are burning, but suddenly there's a whole hail of bullets coming my way. Crap. I dodge behind the wall, but I'm a second too late and pain explodes in my right shoulder.

Fuck that hurts. My whole torso is burning and the pain makes my eyes water. The bullets flying my way stop, as shots are fired from inside. Guys, you're about thirty seconds late.

I try to ignore the pain and concentrate on lighting the next rag but my right arm is useless, and I'm crap with my left hand. I manage to get the lighter lit, but I freeze when I feel the barrel of a gun against my forehead. I'd been so distracted that I didn't notice the guy approaching me. I drop the lighter and raise my hands. At that exact moment, they cut the power to the clubhouse, and everything is dark and silent.

He grabs me by the hair and drags me to the front of the building. Every movement sends a fresh wave of agony through me, and I grit my teeth to stop myself crying out. I won't give these fuckers the satisfaction. I'm held in front of him, facing the front door, and his words in my ear make my blood run cold.

"I hear someone's looking for you!" He chuckles, and I can smell stale smoke on his breath. I feel sick, and his stench isn't helping. "Hey, fellas. Got something of yours out here. Pretty little thing, ain't she?"

Fuck. There's no way they're not coming out now. They know it's either me or Mel, and any one of them would die for either of us. I look up as the door opens and Jay appears with his gun in his hand. He doesn't raise it, but he isn't coming out unarmed either. He looks at me and I can see the anguish on his face.

"I think it's a fair trade, Pres," my captor taunts him. "Your members come out, and I'll keep her alive."

I keep looking at Jay and I can tell he's fighting with himself. "Jay," I say, my voice breaking with tears. "You promised."

It's a simple reminder, but he knows the weight it carries. With those words, he knows what will happen to me if this sicko keeps me alive. He doesn't bother wiping away the tear that falls down his cheek. He nods at me, and I think he tries to smile, but all I see is pain. I keep looking into his eyes until his gun is aiming at my head, and then my eyes close. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I'm sure that the sicko, Jay and myself are in a bubble of our own, 'cos no one else moves. Not even as his gun aims at me and his finger squeezes the trigger.