by Lilly Atlas
As she scrambled to her feet, she risked a glance over her shoulder and saw blood pouring from his lip. A sense of satisfaction fueled her desire to fight even harder. When she reached her kitchen, she stopped fleeing. She could have run, maybe should have run, but she turned back to him. “Come on, fucker.” She pointed to her face which already felt swollen. “This the worst you can do?”
Later she’d probably regret taunting a psychopath, but in the moment with adrenalin coursing through her and the euphoria of finally getting a piece of the man who caused her so much agony, she wanted nothing more than to beat his ass to the ground.
Lefty lunged forward. In the three seconds it took him to reach her, a calm settled over Chloe, and Izzy’s voice sounded in her head yet again. This time reminding her of the sensitive points of the body. The areas to focus on for maximum impact…aka maximum pain.
The groin.
The eyes.
The foot.
The nose.
She opened her hand flat and rammed the heel of her palm upward just as Lefty was reaching for her throat. When she connected with the underside of his nose, the most satisfying crunch reverberated through the room. She’d hit him so hard, his entire body propelled backward. Lefty cried out, his hands immediately flying up to his face.
He sailed backward. His head connected with her rock-solid granite counter top. The crack of his head hitting the stone was so loud she was surprised if her neighbors didn’t come running. Chloe watched with a combination of horror and fascination as his body slumped to the floor in an unconscious heap.
She stood there for a moment, sucking wind and trembling as she stared at the man she’d knocked out cold. Funny, he didn’t look so dangerous sprawled out on her tile floor, eyes closed and blood dripping from his nose and mouth.
After another moment of staring, her phone chimed with an incoming new alert. The sound ripped her from her trance.
Who knew how long he’d be out for? She could see the rise and fall of his chest, so she hadn’t killed him, which meant he’d be waking at some point. There was no way in hell she planned to be around when that happened, but she needed to restrain him, or the fucker would be free to continue his reign of torment.
Suddenly feeling frantic to have him restrained, Chloe pulled open drawer after drawer searching for something to tie him up. Her handcuffs would work but she’d need something to secure him to and wasn’t sure she could drag his heavy body through her house once she found something.
“Damnit,” she yelled as she slammed her junk drawer closed. Her heart was thrumming so hard, it was hard to think above the pounding in her head. She forced herself to close her eyes and take a deep breath. As she did, visions of herself bound to the motel bed flooded her mind.
“Duct tape,” she whispered aloud. “I have duct tape.”
Ohh, sweet irony, using the same medium to restrain Lefty as he’d used to tie her up. She ran out of the kitchen, careful to swing a wide berth around his body as she ran for her office. A quick rummage through her closet had her emerging with a thick roll of duct tape.
After running back to the kitchen, she stood over Lefty’s prone and bleeding body. Her fingers shook as she tried to peel an edge of the tape back. “Fuck,” she grumbled as she failed for the fourth time. Her quivering fingers just wouldn’t obey.
She inhaled a stuttering breath. “Relax. You can do this.” After exhaling, she snuck her nail under the corner of the tape and peeled back the sticky strip. Her eyes fell closed. “Thank you,” she whispered.
She tiptoed over to Lefty as though that would somehow prevent him from waking and crouched down by his feet. Reaching out a tentative hand, she touched his shoe and jumped as though she was electrified.
Nothing happened.
It was now or never, so she shoved his legs together then wound the tape around his ankles. Once, twice, and again until she was convinced he couldn’t bust out of it should he wake. Lefty hadn’t so much as stirred, which bolstered her confidence. After struggling for a few minutes, she was able to roll him onto his stomach. Not bothering to be gentle, his face clunked against the tile floor and she held her breath, but once again, he remained motionless.
Still breathing like she was being chased, Chloe gathered his wrists at the base of his spine. With quick hands, she treated them to the same overkill taping as she had his feet. Then she rose to survey her work.
A horn honked somewhere in the distance and she jolted so hard, the tape flew from her hands and landed on Lefty’s back.
No movement.
He could still escape if he woke up. Yeah, she’d tied him, but he could work his way to a stand and hop. Blowing out a breath, she wiped her sweaty brow and knelt down near Lefty’s feet. Bending Lefty’s knees, she used her torso to press them toward his ass. When they were somewhat close to his hands, she wound the remaining tape in a loop between his hands and feet, securing them together.
Panting, she fell back on her butt. “Shit,” she muttered as perspiration ran down her face. Tying up a sadistic asshole was hard work. She stood on unsteady legs and surveyed her work. Sloppy as hell, but Lefty wasn’t going anywhere.
As she stood there gazing down at the damaged man who once held so much power over her, the realization of what just happened crashed down around her.
Esposito had let him in her house.
They’d fought.
She’d won.
Now that the immediate danger was gone, her face throbbed like a sonofabitch. She wiped her cheek and discovered what she’d thought was sweat was actually blood. He’d split the skin with his knuckles. As the adrenalin waned from her system, her body began to shake. Hard.
Her skin itched, and all of a sudden, she could not stand being in her house for one more second. Eyes on Lefty’s prone form, she stumbled backward, crashing into her kitchen table.
With a yelp, she spun and sprinted outside. The day was truly beautiful. Seventy degrees, sunny, no humidity. There could have been a tornado in her driveway for all she took note. The only thing she cared about was getting outside the walls she could never live within again.
Once she was locked behind the wheel of her car, she pulled out her phone to call Logan. That task took longer than it should have. Her damn hands still hadn’t quit trembling.
As she listened to the phone ring once, twice, then a third time, memories of the most horrifying night of her life assaulted her.
Lefty looming over her.
Lefty laughing and mocking her.
Lefty touching her.
Lefty hitting her.
“You got him,” she whispered. “He can’t hurt you. You won.”
“Clo?”
“L-logan?” No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t keep the hysteria out of her voice. “I need you. Now.”
He was all business immediately. “Baby, you hurt? Tell me what’s wrong.” He sounded frantic. She hated to do this to him. The ride over would be hell on him, and he’d been through enough lately. They both had.
“I-I’m okay.” Throbbing face notwithstanding. “He-he’s here,” she whispered.
“Esposito?” Confusion and anger came through in his voice.
“N-no. Lefty. He was in my bedroom. We fought.” How she managed to get that out without stuttering, she’d never know.
“Motherfucker!” he screamed into the phone. “Where the hell is he now?”
She started to laugh, a slightly hysterical sound. Logan must think she’d lost her mind. “In my kitchen. Unconscious. I tied him up.” She couldn’t keep the smug note out of her voice.
“You tied him up.” Logan said. “Fuck, baby, I’m so goddammed proud of you. Leaving now, Clo. Be there in fifteen.”
“B-but you’re half an hour away.”
“I’ll be there in fifteen minutes,” he said with more force.
“Okay.”
“Are you safe?”
“Y-yes. I think so. I’m sitting in my car with the doors locke
d. I don’t think he can escape.”
“Good, baby. That’s good. Turn the car on just in case you need to get away. You did great. I’ll take it from here, okay.”
She breathed a sigh of relief. It was done. Logan would call in the club, they’d remove Lefty and it would be all over. The man who hurt her would finally pay. Best part, she’d gotten in some damn good shots. She’d forever have the pleasure of hurting the man who’d hurt her.
“Thank you,” she said as she slid her key into the ignition. Just being on the phone with Logan had steadied her to the point she no longer trembled.
“Fuck, babe, don’t thank me for that shit. Stay on the line with me, okay? Don’t care if you don’t talk.”
“Okay.”
She had no clue how long it actually took him to arrive, but it felt like a lifetime. With the phone pressed to her ear, she stared at her house, and listened to Logan’s even breathing. In some kind of trance, she didn’t hear the rumble of his motorcycle approach. When he tapped on her window, she nearly flew through the sunroof.
“Shit!” she cried, slamming a hand over her heart.
“Sorry. Tried not to scare you,” he called through the closed window.
“I don’t care,” she said as she shoved the door open and launched herself into his arms. They immediately engulfed her with crushing force. Exactly what she needed to feel safe. “He touched my things. I can’t—” She swallowed as she shook her head. “I can’t live in there ever again.”
“Shh.” He stroked the back of her head. “You don’t have to. Hell, you don’t have to step a fucking foot in this house again if you don’t want to. I’ll get him out of here. We might have to wait until the sun goes down.” With his hands cradling her face, he drew back and assessed the damage. Rage darkened his eyes. “Fuck.”
“I’m okay, Logan. Just some bruising and a cut. I’ve had worse.” She gave him a wry grin but quickly realized mentioning how he found her was a mistake of epic proportions.
His face hardened to stone. A shiver ran down her spine as he transformed from a concerned lover to a merciless killer.
“I’m going to take you back to my house while I deal with him, okay?”
“Um, maybe I should stay with you.”
“No. Let me just go in and see what we’re dealing with. Wait here.” He kissed her forehead as she nodded then he started for the front door. He walked like a jungle cat tracking its prey.
Unease washed over her. Though Logan hadn’t said anything, Chloe knew Lefty wouldn’t be leaving her house alive.
“Hold on,” she called out. “Don’t you have to call Copper?”
He looked her straight in the eye and she shivered. His deep blue irises were nearly black with a gaze that promised death. Never before had she seen that side of him. The side that could kill like a well-oiled machine. She wasn’t afraid of him. He’d never hurt her. Even in the lethal mood he was in, she had full confidence he’d never so much as lay a hand on her.
But he was scary. Whatever he had planned for Lefty would probably give most people nightmares. Logan wouldn’t bat an eye. He was on executioner autopilot. The night he rescued her, he radiated rage and fury. Today? Today there was nothing but cold calculation and acceptance of what was to come.
A killing.
“I’m not calling the club.”
Oh, shit.
She shot off after him back into the house, no longer concerned about her home being contaminated by a sadist.
“Logan!” she said when she caught up to him in her kitchen standing over Lefty’s body. He flicked her a glance over his shoulder then walked around the body toward her counter. She followed, grabbed his arm, and turned him away from…her knife set?
Double shit.
It took a monumental amount of effort, but she managed to ignore the fact he was now holding her butcher knife. “What do you mean, you aren’t calling the club? Logan, you can’t do this by yourself. That’s crazy. Copper will flip his shit.”
“Go back outside, Chloe,” he said, voice hard.
“What? Go back outside? That’s all you have to say?” She threw her hand up. “Logan, you told me what Copper said. Lefty belongs to the club. Now, I may not have been around your club much, but from what you told me, you don’t ignore an order from your president.”
“Chloe, outside.”
She seethed; fists clenched at her sides. What the hell was wrong with this stubborn man? “Logan. He could kick you out of the club. Or worse!” Her stomach hurt all over again. She’d been completely wrong about Logan being calm and unaffected by Lefty’s presence. He was affected to the point he was no longer thinking rationally. He was willing to toss his life away over this.
And Lefty would win. He’d die, but part of him would win if Rocket went against the club. Against his family. What the hell would happen to him without his brothers?
“Logan, please,” she said as she grabbed his forearm. She absolutely had to stop him. Had to find a way to make him listen to reason. She’d do anything short of diving in front of the knife. “Stop and think for a second. You’ll realize how reckless this is. You aren’t reckless. You don’t act without thinking.”
He looked down at her with much the same ice-cold gaze he’d had in her front yard. “Go. Outside.” Each word was punctuated with a narrowing of his eyes.
Chloe swallowed. It was a wasted effort. He wouldn’t see reason.
“Fine,” she said as she stepped back from him. Without another word she turned and walked outside. Once the front door had closed behind her, she sucked in a huge breath. She knew what she had to do. The one thing that would save Logan from himself.
Even if he’d see it as a betrayal.
Even if it might make him walk away from her forever.
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
HE’D BRUISED HER. Again. Cut her face.
And Rocket hadn’t been there. Hell, he hadn’t even checked the house. Just let her hop off his bike and go on her merry way. Guilt swamped him until it felt like a physical ache.
The motherfucker had touched her for the last time. In fact, Rocket twirled the knife by the handle, Lefty was about to breathe his last breath.
Rocket shoved the sight of Chloe’s worried face from his mind as he stood over Lefty. She’d come around later, after the shock of finding Lefty in her house waned.
He was loyal to his club. Always had been. Never once had he been tempted to betray his patch or buck Copper’s orders. Until the very moment he’d heard Chloe’s fear-filled voice through his phone. Until he saw the angry bruises that would take weeks to fade. The club took a backseat to Rocket’s need for retribution, and for the first time since he patched, he was willing to throw it all away.
From his spot face down on Chloe’s kitchen floor, Lefty groaned and turned his head to the side.
A grin curled Rocket’s lips. “Wakey, wakey, motherfucker,” he said right before using his heavy boot to shove Lefty onto his side. A surge of pride in Chloe raced through him at the sight of Lefty’s ravaged face. She’d fought like a wildcat and beat his ass. Rocket laughed. “Damn, she did a number on you, huh? Guess you’re not much without your little gang.”
God, he’d waited for this for so long. Lived for this moment. He was going to prolong the execution as much as possible. Savor it. Soak up every ounce of Lefty’s misery.
Fucking Esposito. The bastard must have suspected Logan didn’t complete the mission. Otherwise why fuck with him this way? He was a problem that would have to be addressed once Lefty was on ice.
“Rocket,” Lefty said, in a nasally whine due to the broken nose. “Been hoping you’d visit.”
He grunted in response. Any other time he’d seen Lefty, the fucker looked like a knock-off version of Rambo. Wife beater, jeans, bandana around his head.
“How about you send sweet Chloe back in. I’d much rather look at her and remember the feel of her pussy than have to stare at your ugly mug.”
Rocket brea
thed through his nose as he let the taunts roll off his back. Took a lot more than Lefty to get under his skin. Though he had to admit, each word out of the motherfucker’s mouth inspired further torture.
“Not gonna bite?” Lefty asked with a smug as fuck grin. Hard to pull off with blood seeping from his mouth. “She still here?”
Rocket remained silent as he crouched down.
Lefty’s grin was full of yellowed teeth. Looked like the sex trafficking and drug pushing industries didn’t come with top-notch dental insurance. “How ’bout you call her back in. We could double team her. Hell, I’ll even let you have her cunt. I’m more than happy to stick it in her—argh!” He gritted his teeth as his body arched off the floor.
Rocket had stuck the knife through the bindings at Lefty’s back. With a sawing motion he cut through the tape connecting Lefty’s arms to his legs. The limbs were still bound but now he could push the asshole flat on his back. “Oops,” Rocket said as he accidentally sliced Lefty’s hand with the knife. “Too vigorous. My bad.”
Panting through clenched teeth, Lefty stared up at him. “You’re nothing but a fucking joke,” he spat out, not quite as cocksure as he’d been before a knife cut into his skin. “What do you think’s gonna happen here? You think I’m gonna just disappear without any repercussions? My guys will be all over your ass before you can bury my fucking body.”
Rocket rotated the point of the knife back and forth against his finger tip. “Hmm, I think you’ve been missing for two weeks and no one gives a shit. Not even a dingleberry. There’s no loyalty among your men. Never has been. So I’m thinking I’ve got time and plenty of it. Hell, I’m thinking I could keep you for days. Maybe even weeks. As long as I can tolerate the stench.” As he spoke he popped the button at Lefty’s fly open then drew down the zipper. With rough tugs, he yanked his jeans down to his ankles.
“The fuck are you doing?”
“Commando, huh? Making this easy for me. I just wanted to get a peek at this thing between your legs you’re so proud of. Had to see what makes it so special that it gets to fuck women without their consent.”
