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didn't differentiate this place from anywhere else in Belfast particularly. I was lost and alone and I might not even be able to find my way back if I were to somehow escape.
    They pushed me inside the building, which turned out to be an old factory long since stripped of anything of value. Now it was just a large space with a smattering of broken bottles and old newspapers strewn about. The smell of old moisture was thick in the air and I could imagine that whoever owned the place - if anyone actually did - hadn't paid it any attention in decades at the most recent. Not far from the doors we came in there was a small table with a few chairs around it. The younger one went ahead and sat in one of the chairs while the older one pushed me over to a support beam.
    "Sit here and shut up," he told me.
    I looked at him and didn't resist his simple command. Sitting quietly was about the most comfortable thing I could expect in this situation and I wasn't about to fight him with my hands tied behind my back. I slid myself down against the beam and he nodded before stepping over to the table.
    From that moment on, neither of them seemed to pay me much attention. I was in their field of vision at all times, so I couldn't exactly try anything, but at least they seemed to be ignoring me.
    "How long do we have to stay here?" the young one asked.
    "Until they call," the older one responded, "They should have delivered the message to that mick bastard by now. Then we'll find out just what he's made of. If he's smart, he'll cut ties and get out of town. If not... well, we'll just see."
    I didn't like the sound of that. It became clear that the bastard they were talking about was Ronan or possibly his father. They'd already delivered a ransom demand of some kind. It sounded like the price of my safety was for Ronan to leave Belfast. I couldn't believe this had happened. Bad enough that I was being held captive by these creeps, but my presence here in Belfast was going to ruin everything for the Druids. I wasn't quite at the point of commitment to the club that I would value the fight between them and the Americans more than my own well-being, but it still bothered me. If I'd just stayed back in Dublin, this wouldn't have happened. Now Lila might be dead and I could be just as screwed. If Ronan decided to leave though, he'd be giving up on the club and his father. Even the other Druids from Dublin would lose respect for him if he backed down in a situation like this. But what would happen if he didn't? What would happen to me?
    When you imagine hostage situations like this and the way they're portrayed in movies, the kidnappers are always sitting around playing cards with the captive. Things weren't like that in the factory at all. For one thing, a deck of cards had given way to kidnappers who had smartphones. Even the older one spent his time reading things off his phone while younger one played a game with himself. I had no such way of entertaining myself. Instead, I spent the time counting the support pillars and memorizing the faces of my captors. If I did get out of here alive, even if it meant Ronan had to run back to Dublin with his tail between his legs, I knew he'd want vengeance. That kept me going. As long as I could remember, these two would never escape the Druids. I could tell from their attire that they were bikers as well, but still they seemed to ignore the guaranteed consequences of an action like this. War is war, but kidnapping the girlfriend of a rival club leader is a good way to earn a lot of enemies for life.
    Enough time passed that my immediate terror at my surroundings and my situation had passed and I was left with only mild fright and increased awareness of the basic needs of my body. I hadn't eaten since breakfast with Ronan and I was thirsty as well. I thought about trying to get my captor's attention despite the gag that was still stretched across my mouth, but every time I was about to mount an attempt, they'd