Blake: A Motorcycle Club Romance (Hell's Exiles MC Book 2)

by Sassie Lewis

  It was actually a brilliant idea. The question was could they trust Grange North had nothing to do with the human trafficking in the first place?

  “Arrange a meet,” Blake snapped.

  Chase gave him a raised eyebrow. Yeah, this shit wasn’t up to Blake, but it was his fucking woman they needed to rescue.

  Chase turned to face their road captain. “Do what he said, Horse.” Then he spoke to the rest of the table. “Stone and Zane, I want you to grab a couple of the boys and go relieve the guys we’ve got watching the factory. Call me if anything changes. I’ll switch up the shift at nightfall. Watch your backs.”

  The guys left without a word, Zane patted Blake on the shoulder as he passed.

  When there was only Horse, Chase, and Blake left, his VP turned back to him. “Are we going to have a problem, Blake?”

  “Get my woman out of there and we won’t,” Blake answered, and rubbed his hands over his tired face.

  “When this is over, you and me will be having words. I’m sick of the attitude.”

  “Tell me you wouldn’t be acting the same if this was Nessa.” Pushing the chair back, Blake paced again. It seemed to be the only thing that stopped him from jumping on his bike and riding directly to the factory possibly housing his princess. “Look, Chase, at the moment I’m not thinking of the club, of who you are in the club, I’m thinking about the fact that these sick fuckers have my woman and are doing God only fucking knows what to her.”

  “You love her?” Chase’s question stopped him in his pacing.

  “Like you wouldn’t fucking believe,” he answered honestly.

  “Then I don’t need to kill you for knocking up my baby sister, but we’re still going to have words. Now get your shit together and let’s go meet up with Grange.”

  Horse was motioning them to follow him. Obviously, the guy had gotten Grange to meet with them, and the guy wanted that meeting now.

  “I don’t deal in human trafficking,” Grange said.

  It had taken them over an hour to ride out to the meeting point. The hot sun beat down on them. But the open space gave them all a clear view and fair warning of anyone watching or approaching.

  “We were under the impression you dealt in pretty much anything,” said Blake. Chase had agreed to let Blake do the talking, probably figured that there wouldn’t have been any stopping him, anyway.

  “I used to, but I began to find the trade distasteful. My girls come to me freely now.”

  Shit. “Is this widely known? I mean, do others in the trade know of your distaste?” ‘Cause that could fuck things up.

  “I keep that kind of information to myself. But those I’ve dealt with in the past would know that I’m no longer interested in working with them.” The other man shrugged. “But in saying that, I received an e-mail. It wasn’t an invitation, so don’t get excited, but it was a heads up from someone I know, someone who knows I no longer have a tolerance for the trade, that the auction is taking place.”

  “Do you think you’d be able to get an invite?” Horse asked.

  “I don’t see why not.”

  Relief washed over Blake like a cool breeze.

  “It will take me a while to get things set up, but when I’ve got the invite, I’ll let you know.” He signaled for his men to get back into their car. “And Chase, when this all goes down, my men will be part of the party. Not only to back me up, but they haven’t been part of a good fight in a while. A little blood shedding will do them good.” The grin that crossed Grange’s face could be called nothing but chilling. Lucky for Blake, he enjoyed shedding blood just as much.

  “I am so going to kill that motherfucker.” Becca pulled at the stupid white dress she’d been forced to put on. Although, calling it a ‘dress’ was being generous. While it covered her from neck to foot, the material was completely see-through. And with her bra and panties confiscated, it hid absolutely nothing. And just how had Fred, the wanna-be Elm street guy, gotten her to give up her clothes? By holding his knife against the currently giggling little girl’s throat.

  “You said a bad word.” Evie gave her a stern look. She was dressed the same way, except she’d been allowed to keep her underwear.

  “I’m sorry, sweetie. Though, I guess if you’re going to come live with me and Blake, you will have to get used to hearing bad words.” Because there was no way Becca or any of the boys would go long before fucking up and letting their mouths run wild in front of the little girl that Becca was quickly coming to adore.

  Leaning closer, putting her nose against Evie’s, Becca said in a stern but playful voice, “But I don’t want to hear any of those nasty words coming out of your pretty mouth, all right?”

  Blonde curls bobbed in affirmation. “Okay.” The smile dropped from her face, and her little lip quivered. “When’s Quin coming back?”

  Becca closed her eyes and drew in a steading breath. When Fred and his men had barged into Evie’s cage, Quin had gone ballistic and so had she, not that they could have actually done anything. But when they came in to Becca’s cage, her dad had gone nuclear. The fight had been fast and brutal. The only thing that ended it was Quin being hit with a Taser. Then they’d both been dragged out of the cage, Becca taken in one direction, and Quin in another.

  She didn’t really believe in God, because if she did, she knew he’d want nothing to do with her or her family. Still, she sent up a silent prayer that her dad was still alive. “I’m not sure, sweetie, but I know he’ll do his best to get back to us.”

  The girl bit her lip then nodded again. “Do you think we should tell the others what to do when the boys on bikes get here?” Becca smiled. Evie didn’t quite grasp the concept of a motorcycle club, and had latched onto the fact that Becca had described them as boys who ride bikes.

  Looking around the small room they’d all been put in, Becca studied the other women. Given their skin tone and the fact they spoke Spanish, she’d take a guess and say that two of the girls—they couldn’t be much more than early twenties–were from Mexico. On the other side of the small room sat a woman also in her early to mid-twenties, and a teenaged girl who looked to be about sixteen. They also looked related, but Becca couldn’t be sure.

  “Yeah, Evie, I think we should,” she finally answered. And in that moment, she vowed to make sure each of these women were returned to their homes, or given a safe place to stay. She just hoped that Hell’s Exiles knew where they were and had something planned, ‘cause if they didn’t, not only was she screwed, she’d make sure that each and every one of Blake’s brethren paid for letting these women down.

  “Do you speak English?” she asked the Spanish speaking pair, they nodded.

  “All right ladies, let’s talk.”

  Gathered in the center of the room, Becca gave the others a rundown of what she hoped would happen at some point during the evening.

  “Are you sure they’ll be able to get us all out?” Swan, the sixteen-year-old beauty asked.

  “My dad told me they know where the auction is taking place, seeing as we haven’t been moved, I’m guessing we’re already there. So yeah, I’m pretty sure they’ll come. And I promise the guys would never leave any of you behind. They might not be what you’d call upstanding people, but they do have rules, and one of those is to never harm a woman.”

  “Where will be go once we’re out of here, Raven?” Swan’s older sister by eight years, asked. Apparently, these girls’ parents had a thing for birds. “Swan and I were taken from my apartment. I don’t think I’d feel comfortable taking her back there.”

  Becca didn’t know the full story but she got the picture that Raven was her sister’s guardian, and that the girls hadn’t had an easy life. “I guess you could stay with the club. Not sure if it’s the kind of place you’d want to have Swan exposed to, though.”

  “But you will take Evie there?” Catrina, one of the Mexican ladies asked.

  “Trust me, Evie will be better off with me than going back to her sick-ass fa
ther or going into the system. Whatever you do when we get out of here is up to you, I’m just letting you know there are options.”

  “I want to stay with Becca. She and Blake are going to make me a big sister.” Evie tugged at her hand, drawing her attention. “Isn’t that right, Becca?”

  Becca hadn’t thought about it that way, but she guessed if she was going to take the little girl in, she was going to have to act like a parent. The idea sent warmth blooming in her chest and she wondered how Blake would feel about having an instant family. . . He was just going to have to accept it.

  “That’s right, sweetie. You’re going to be a big sister, but we’ve got to get out of here first.” She looked up to the small group. “Do you all understand what you have to do if—no—when this goes down?”

  Chapter Twenty

  “Is everything set?” Sir asked. He’d bailed from the factory not long after the Hell’s Exiles bitch had been delivered. He never hung around long, didn’t want too many people to see him. To be able to point the finger back to him. His stand-in handled the front end of the business while Fred oversaw it all.

  “Yeah, the product is ready and the buyers are just arriving,” Fred responded, his voice coming across the line as dead as his eyes were in person. The only time Sir saw any emotion in the man was when he was covered in the blood of his victims.

  “You know what to do if there’re any problems.” Sir trusted Fred to take care of anything that went wrong.

  “Yes. If no one buys the chubby black-haired one, I will have her.”

  Rubbing the bridge of his nose, Sir bit back a curse. Whatever the Hell’s Exiles bitch had said to Fred had made the man obsessed with her. Which was never a good thing. He’d had to have his other men step in more than once to keep Fred away from her. While it truly wouldn’t have bothered him if psycho had his way with the little bitch, Sir had too much money riding on her sale. Plus, her being the property of one of his buyers would upset Quin Anderson more, and for longer than just finding her dead. And anything that pissed the Hell’s Exiles president off, made Sir a very happy man.

  “She will sell, you’ll have to find another plaything. Now, have you dealt with that greedy fucker yet?” Sir knew he hadn’t, but he needed Fred’s mind off the product.

  “I haven’t had time. Plus, he is being watched at the moment.”

  “Take care of it as soon as the auction is over. And, Fred, don’t let me down.” He rang off then jumped into the back of the waiting car.

  He had other business to attend to.

  Fred threw the phone at the wall, blankly watching the device crack as it fell to the ground. Tilting his head, he listened to the voices that only he could hear. “He cannot deny us what we want.”

  “Fuck him.”

  “Who’s he to tell us what to do?”

  “No one.”

  “We have the other one to play with. . .” the last voice road over all the others.

  Fred didn’t particularly like this voice, it had different tastes to him.

  “We have the same taste,” it whispered. “You are just too weak to admit it. Blood is still red and warm no matter the body it comes from.”

  True, with that, he made his way to the other room. He hadn’t told Sir that the biker was in his possession. Sir thought Fred was dumb, didn’t know about the cameras he had scattered around the factory. Fred only let Sir see what he wanted the other man to see; it was a skill he’d learned at a very young age—how to be seen but not seen. That skill had kept him out of jail for just as long.

  While he preferred women to play with, the voice was right—blood was warm no matter where it came from. And men always put up more of a fight than women; always more fulfilling when he subdued them. As such the biker wasn’t tied down or drugged. He paced back and forth in the small room. Reminding Fred of the lion he’d once seen at the zoo.

  His cock grew heavy in anticipation. The man noticed. Froze. But fear didn’t waft from him. Neither he or the voices liked that.

  “I will enjoy fucking you as you die. I wanted your daughter, but Sir won’t allow that. . . For now.”

  The biker’s hands tightened, then he charged. Fred let the first punch connect, the sound of cartilage snapping the only indication that his nose had been broken. He smiled through the blood running over his lips, then he let the voices play.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Blake whipped around at the sound of approaching feet. “What are you guys doing here?” he asked his brother. Nikolić and Danil, the little fucker, stood beside Bear.

  “Boris figured you could use some help. And he wants this shit stopped.” Bear held up a hand when Chase went to comment. “He is well aware that this is your territory, but he monitors all business going on in Nevada, and if one of those businesses happens to be something he doesn’t approve of, he deals with it.” Bear shrugged.

  Grange had got the invite, and now they had an eclectic gathering waiting for the signal to breach the entrance. One of Grange’s guys, West, had promised that the bug his boss wore wouldn’t be detected by anyone. That had Chase and Horse raising their eyebrows. Yeah, they would have to find out if Grange had planted any of those fuckers in their territory.

  West nodded at Chase, who gave a signal to Zane. The sniper was somewhere off in the distance. Blake couldn’t see him, but knew that he’d hit whatever he aimed at. And the man was freaking excited to use the new toy Grange had gifted him. He swore that they’d hear nothing, just a soft whoosh right before the bullet hit its target. He was right, Blake heard barely a sound as he watched one of the guards patrolling the outside of the factory fall to the ground; then another, and another. The last went for his radio, but Zane was quicker. The bullet slammed directly into the center of his head.

  “Damn, that guy is good,” West said. “Where’d you get him?”

  “We made him a good killer, the army made him a good shooter,” Chase answered.

  “If you two ladies are done having a fucking chat, can we go get my woman?” Blake glared at the men still standing around waiting.

  “Let’s do this.” Chase raised his hand, directing everyone to do what they’d planned. The small device in Blake’s ear crackled to life.

  Normally Hell’s Exiles went in loud with guns blazing, today wasn’t going to be any different. Grange had given a few different scenarios of how these auctions ran. The most common way is once all buyers had paid their entrance fee, they were offered refreshments while they mingled with the other buyers. Often the girls would be in individual cages, where the buyers could inspect them. They weren’t allowed to touch, but they could get fairly close. This was when Grange planned on giving Becca a heads up. It wasn’t until they started auctioning off the girls that Blake and the others were meant to enter. At that time, all focus would be on the bidding, plus the girls would, or should, be out of their cages.

  They didn’t know how many women were in the factory, but Blake was betting there was more than just Becca, Grange would let them know as soon as he knew.

  They crept toward the entrance and waited for the next signal.

  She wasn’t a fucking pet. Yet she found herself in another goddamned cage. This one smaller than the last, she could barely turn around in it. The worst part was that the cages were so far apart she couldn’t comfort Evie. But the little girl was holding strong, even with some fat guy eyeing her like she was candy.

  “Sick fucking ass-wipe.”

  “Well, aren’t you a charming, and pretty one.” The deep voice had her spinning in the small cage. If the man wasn’t here to buy women, she’d think he was the most handsome fucker she’d ever seen. A little taller than average height was about the only thing average about him. His skin tone hinted at something exotic, his wavy, chocolate brown, shoulder length locks, begged for a woman’s fingers. His five o’clock shadow bordered on being classed as a full beard. And his eyes were the weirdest color she’d ever seen. They weren’t blue, they weren’t green, the
y weren’t even brown, they were so light in color it was hard to tell what they were. “You done staring?” That deep voice rumbled up her spine, the accent told her he wasn’t from Nevada, maybe somewhere in the south.

  She shrugged her shoulders. “Figured all you sick fuckers are here gawking at us, might as well get a little of my own staring done.”

  “Would you like me to lose some clothing? It might help with the images going through your head.” The lopsided grin he gave would have been panty dropping if she didn’t know he was a complete slime-ball.

  His grin got bigger when she didn’t give him a reaction. He was good to look at, but he wasn’t her type. “I like my men alive.” She deadpanned. Then she let a sweet smile crest her lips. “You’ll be very much dead if you even think of touching me.”

  Lightning quick, his hand shot through the bars, to fist in her hair. She would have stepped back, but the cage wasn’t big enough. She dug her nails into his hand, and tried to claw at his face, but the bastard was just too strong. He had her subdued within seconds, and with little fuss.

  Warm minty breath wafted over her face, then his lips touched her ear. “You are one tempting woman, Rebecca. I can see why Blake is so obsessed with getting you back.”

  That stopped her struggles and had her full focus on the man holding her. Now that she’d stopped trying to get away, she realized the hold on her hair was firm but not painful.

  “This has to be quick, so don’t fight me.”

  “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” she kept her voice low, and gritted her teeth against the need to struggle, the stranger was running his hands up and down her body. While it didn’t feel invasive, she knew to anyone watching it would have looked like he was copping a good feel.

  “My name is Grange North, Blake and the boys are outside with my men. Once the bidding starts, they will take you out of the cages. Most often they will have all the women lined up across the stage. This will be the time when you are most free.” As he talked, his hands continued to run up and down her body. But her full focus was on his words. “Do not do anything until I give you the signal. At that time, you are to get yourself out of here. Run for the door, someone will be there to take you someplace safe. Do you know how many men there are?”