UnCage me (Savage Beast MC Book 8)

by Hayley Faiman

  I watch as he walks over to her, but she shakes her head, her face draining from all color as he approaches. I see Gator shifting from his seat too, making his way over to them.

  The two men usher the girl out of the building and I have no doubt they’re going to fuck some sense into her and assure her that she didn’t hear what she thought she did.

  “We’ll give them a little bit to get that taken care of,” Dragon mumbles. “They know where the hotel is, let’s get some rest before tomorrow morning.”

  We leave Mamba and Gator behind and head a few miles down the road to a motel. We’re all staying four men to a room, since it’s only going to be for tonight. We’ve all been staying together on the road anyway, it doesn’t fucking matter. We’re here for a job, not comfort.

  I have to admit that I like this trip. I’ve been able to be near my brothers and although they aren’t all completely over what I’ve done or forgiven me, they are warming up to me again. I realize that in my years of selfishness and self-hatred, I’ve been neglecting relationships of all types, including brotherhood and friendship.

  We arrive back at the motel and I sink down on the edge of the bed, kicking off my boots and stretching out with a groan. Lifting my arms, I lace my fingers together behind my head and close my eyes.

  Rest. I’m going to rest for just a few moments. Not that I’ve done any laborious activities today, but my mind has been fucking racing for goddamn days and I’m exhausted. It doesn’t take long before I fall asleep to the sound of the men talking all around me in low tones.

  They’re planning.

  I don’t have a say in any of the plans and I know if they need to ask me something about the Punchers and the way they operate, they will without hesitation. They don’t and I end up passing out completely.

  I’m not sure what time Mamba and Gator make their way back to the group or what happened with the waitress and them, but when I wake up, I look over to their side of the room and blink a few times, wondering if what I’m seeing is actually happening.

  It’s them, and the waitress. They’re tangled in each other’s arms and naked. The girl looked young at the restaurant, I thought she might be underage, but I also know Mamba and Gator would never be here with her if she was.

  Throwing my legs over the side of the bed, I quietly stand and slip out of the room, leaving the door ajar so that I can go back inside when I’m ready to sleep again.

  “You okay?” a voice murmurs from beside me.

  Turning my head, I grin over to Wolfe who is standing a few feet away, a cigarette in hand. “I’m good.”

  I am, too.

  I feel better than I have in years.

  “I’m ready to end this shit and move on from the past,” I say, keeping my voice down.

  Wolfe nods his head a few times. “Yeah, I could see that. Also see that you got something worth keeping now, glad you found that, even if she’s really fucking young.”

  My lips twitch. “Works for me, I was really fucking immature for a long time. We’re probably on the same level at this point.”

  Wolfe bursts out laughing, his shoulders shake and he shakes his head as he looks down at the cement. “Aren’t we all, though?” he asks once his laughter has died.

  “Yeah,” I admit. “We are.”

  “Glad you got your head out of your ass. Would have fuckin’ hated to lose you, brother.”

  There’s that word again.

  Brother.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  PAMELA

  Pregnant.

  I think about that word for days.

  The thoughts of Pinkie being my mother completely leave my head. I can only think of one thing and one thing only—a baby—my baby.

  I’m not ready, but at the same time, I’m excited. I shouldn’t be. I don’t have anything at all. No money, no job, no education—nothing. I can’t offer a baby anything except love. Even then, I’m not sure I know about love.

  Not like that.

  I’ve never been loved before. I’m not sure I know how to do it myself. I know that I feel something for Dylan and it’s huge, I’m just not so sure it’s love and not lust. I don’t know the difference, I’ve never experienced either.

  “You okay?”

  Tilting my head back, I look up and into the eyes of Trista. I don’t know her very well, but she’s been around pretty often since she just lives a few feet away with her man, Taz. I lick my lips, then smile up at her.

  “I’m good,” I lie.

  She places her hand on her swollen belly, then sits down with a heavy sigh. “This baby keeps getting bigger and bigger,” she groans.

  “Are you scared?” I ask, my eyes flicking down to her stomach, then lifting back up to meet hers.

  There’s a long moment of silence. She watches me, then tilts her head to the side. “Terrified,” she says, then she leans forward and her eyes widen as a smile curves up on her lips. “But I’m so excited, too.”

  I sink my teeth into my bottom lip and let out an exhale as I look over to the bar. My hands are on the table and I feel Trista take my hands in hers. Shifting my gaze back to hers, I can’t stop my eyes from watering and my heart from racing.

  “Oh God,” Trista breathes. “You’re pregnant.”

  She says the word pregnant on a hiss. I haven’t told anyone, not even Pinkie and Della. I took the test alone and haven’t told a soul. I wanted to wait until Dylan came back, but the way my heart has been racing for days, I can’t hold it in.

  “Yes, I am.”

  Her eyes widen and I smile because she kind of looks like a cartoon character, she’s so animated. The tears in my eyes disappear and I smile before I let out a laugh. Pressing my lips together, I shake my head.

  “I’m crazy,” I say.

  “You aren’t, but you are young.”

  Nodding, I can’t help but agree with her. I am young. Too young, but I’m not the first young girl to get pregnant and I won’t be the last either. Clearing my throat, I look down at her hand on mine, then lift my gaze to meet hers again.

  “I’m terrified,” I whisper. “Dylan doesn’t know yet.”

  “But he didn’t take any precautions?” she asks, her lips twitching because she already knows the answer.

  “He didn’t,” I confess.

  She releases my hand, sitting back in her chair. “Girl, he knew exactly what he was doing. Don’t worry about him, he’ll probably be over the moon excited. I would venture to guess that he’ll scream it from the rooftops as soon as he finds out. Then, he’ll brand you and marry you.”

  Shaking my head, the water returns in my eyes. “He can’t brand me,” I whisper. “Can’t marry me either.”

  “What?” she practically screeches. “Why not?”

  Biting the inside of my cheek, I release it once I taste a bit of blood. “He’s not a brother, therefore he can’t claim me.”

  “And marriage?” she demands.

  “I have zero documentation of who I am. No birth certificate, nothing. There’s no wedding, there’s no claiming, nothing.” I snap the last word, trying not to lose my shit and absolutely failing.

  I’m shaking and I just want to go back to my room, curl in bed and sleep until… forever maybe. Trista reaches out, wrapping her fingers around my wrist and squeezes.

  “Girl, you need to calm the hell down. You think Jag can’t help you with that, with documentation? He won’t let you live without nothin’, the club also won’t let you either. Worm can get you something before you even realized it’s happened.”

  “You’re pretty confident,” I whisper.

  Her lips curve up into a big smile. “I’ve seen him come through. You’re not the only nameless woman to come through these doors.”

  “I’m not nameless,” I whisper.

  “To the outside world, you most definitely are.”

  I think about her words and realize that she’s right. I am exactly what she says. I’m nameless. Nobody knows who I am in the world,
nobody past the Donkey Punchers and the Savage Beasts.

  I’m nobody.

  Absolutely nobody.

  “What happens now?” I ask.

  My heart not stopping, it continues to slam against my chest with nervous energy. I don’t know if I’ll ever calm down. I don’t think that I will. I have a feeling that the slamming heart, the adrenaline, the terror, it’s here to stay—forever.

  Trista doesn’t say anything right away. Instead, she just watches me, her eyes search mine and then she nods. I don’t know what she’s thinking or if she’s going to tell me what’s on her mind, but she stands up quickly with a big smile.

  “Now, you rest. Wait for them to come home. Jaguar will take care of you. I know him well enough to know that he wouldn’t abandon you, not ever. He’ll have your back, babe. He’ll take care of everything.”

  She leaves and I watch her walk through the back door. I don’t know why she was even here, not really. I highly doubt that she was here just to talk to me. I don’t get another moment to think about her, because something happens.

  I hear a loud noise and turn to the side just in time to see a man walk through the door, with three other men at his back. I take a step backward, trying not to stumble and end up having to put my palm on a nearby tabletop to steady myself.

  When they walk through the door and into the room, my eyes adjust to the light and I see that there’s a woman beside them, a woman that I recognize from my father’s clubhouse basement. I don’t know her name, but I recognize her for sure.

  “What’re you doin’ here, Bones?” Pinkie asks, walking into the bar from somewhere else in the clubhouse.

  The man in front who I assume is Bones jerks his chin in her direction, curving his lips up into a cocky grin. “Hey there, Pink,” he purrs.

  She doesn’t run up to give him a warm welcome, but she does relax a bit. “The boys ain’t here,” Pinkie points out, bristling slightly.

  Bones chuckles. “Part of the reason I’m here. Dragon called, asked a few of us to hang out for a few days until they get back.”

  “The other reason you’re here?” she asks, jerking her chin toward the girl.

  A girl who hasn’t looked up or said a single word. In fact, she looks scared. I hope that whoever these men are, that they aren’t like the Punchers. I don’t know what I would do if I ever came across a group like them, especially since it’s obvious that they’re somewhat welcome here and probably even friends with the Beasts.

  “Maci here, she ain’t doin’ too good.”

  At that, Pinkie’s entire body jerks. “You been puttin’ her in your cages?” she sneers.

  Cages?

  I take another step back, but Bones sees me, his attention shifts to me immediately. “You the one Jaguar was so hot to save?” he asks.

  He doesn’t sound angry or upset, he sounds curious. His gaze travels up and down my body, then lands on my eyes. He holds my gaze for a moment before he looks back over to Pinkie.

  “No, wouldn’t be ready for that anyway. But we ain’t the club for her. She needs more than I can give her.”

  Frowning, I don’t quite understand what he means. I take a step toward him, and then I finally find my voice.

  “Was she hurt?” I ask.

  I only saw two initiations or whatever my father called the men lining up to rape women, but I know that there were more. So many more. I wonder if she is one of them, if they can’t help her because she’s totally screwed up from something my father and his club did.

  “No,” Bones says on a chuckle. “She’s not hurt. Not by us, and as far as I know, not by them either.”

  Them.

  My father and his men.

  Them.

  The fucking assholes who hurt women.

  Them.

  “Then what’s the deal?” Pinkie asks.

  Bones looks back behind him at her, then shifts his gaze back to Pinkie. “She ain’t a Skull,” he says then takes a step forward, dipping his chin and lowering his voice. “She can’t handle it. Too soft, too fucking scared. She needs to be handled with care and as much as we did that for her, it’s not the right fit.”

  Pinkie doesn’t say anything for a long moment, the other men have filtered into the room, their focus no longer on us, or anything else but a beer. Maci, the girl, she continues to look at the floor, her shoulders slumped.

  “But we are?” she asks.

  Bones’ lips twitch again and he chuckles. “As hard as y’all think you are, your men are soft when it comes to women. That’s okay. Takes all different men to run this world. They’re hard where they need to be.”

  I almost stand up for the Beasts, but I can’t deny what Bones says. He’s right. Dylan is soft with me, holds me, caresses me, and looks at me like he can’t believe I’m his. I’ve seen the other men do the exact same things with their women.

  These men, these Savage Beasts, they love and they love hard.

  “I can’t make any decisions, but I have a bed she can sleep in,” Pinkie says, then she turns to me. “You can take Jag’s bed, Maci’s going to take yours.”

  I nod, knowing that it’s inevitable that I move into Dylan’s room when he returns, I may as well get it all set up and organized the way I like it now before he comes back. I haven’t stepped inside of his room since he’s been gone, but it’s time that I just accept that this is the plan.

  I’m his, and there’s no denying it, not even to myself. I’m not sure that I was denying it, maybe just taking my time, trying to get used to everything because it’s all happening at lightning speed.

  I can’t take my eyes off of the girl, I watch her and I wonder what her story is. All I know is what I overheard at the Donkey Punchers clubhouse, that they took her and held her as blackmail, but that they had no plans of ever returning her.

  There is a long moment of silence and Bones inhales a deep breath. “You got beds for us, babe?” he asks.

  Pinkie’s lips curve up into a smile as she crosses her arms beneath her large breasts and shakes her head a couple of times. “What about your wife and your baby?” she asks, arching a brow.

  Bones smirks. “They’re at home, safe. Promised Dragon I’d keep his people safe.”

  Pinkie hums then turns away from him and heads back behind the bar. I watch her for a moment until I feel Bones approach me. Turning back to him, I tilt my head backward and look up into his eyes.

  Bones’ eyes are surprisingly clear and open. He isn’t hiding anything. Maybe he’s not exactly what I thought. He lifts his hand and wraps his fingers around the side of my neck. I gasp in surprise, unused to the physical touch from anyone other than Dylan.

  His lips twitch and he watches me, his eyes practically glittering with humor. “My club is different. We’re affiliated, patched over with the Beasts. We’re friends. I could see the look in your eyes, I don’t want you to think that we’re bad guys. We’re not. We’re just a little different,” he says.

  “Like keeping women in cages?” I ask.

  He chuckles, his hand falling from my neck. “All our women are there voluntarily, babe. They like it,” he says as his lips turn up into a huge inviting smile.

  I stand there, completely speechless. He lets out a laugh and turns to the bar, walking away from me. Looking at his back, I flick my gaze over to Maci who hasn’t moved even an inch. I think about leaving her alone in the middle of the room, but decide that she needs someone. She’s been ripped from her home, from her father, and brought into this life.

  At least, my life has always been with a club, and I know some of the rules. She must be completely lost.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  JAGUAR

  I don’t sleep the rest of the night. I don’t even venture back into my room knowing that Mamba and Gator no doubt woke the pretty waitress up sometime in the night to take her again, I know they did because it’s exactly what I would have done if Pamela were here.

  Wishing I had some weed, a bottle of booze, a p
hone—anything to keep me occupied, I look around the empty parking lot and just stare straight toward the forest that’s across the street. This place is fucking wild, I’ve never been this far north before and it amazes me that there is so much forest land all around.

  “We leave in just over an hour, you’re not resting?” Silver asks.

  “You’re not either,” I point out.

  He chuckles, shaking his head. “Yeah, too amped up. Want to get this shit done and go home to my family.”

  “How’s Buster doin’, ain’t seen him around since I been back.”

  He hums, licking his lips. “Gotta keep him away from Kora. Presley keeps him busy, got him playing football during the fall at the middle school, then track and field in the spring. Plus, Presley has Gray to cart around too. They stay busy and it keeps Buster out of trouble.”

  “Away from Kora?” I ask, arching a brow.

  He lifts his hand and runs his fingers through his hair. “He’s only thirteen but that little fuck is all about Kora. He’s got eyes for her, always has and I don’t want that shit getting out of control. They’re still young.”

  “Fuck,” I hiss, thinking about future children, then a daughter who looks like Pamela and one of the Beasts’ boys lookin’ at her. Might kill a kid.

  Silver laughs, though it’s not very humorously. “Don’t have kids, brother. I thought it would be easy as shit. I thought a lot of things, worrying about them when they were sick, making sure to keep them alive on a daily basis. But what I didn’t anticipate was that I’d have to worry about my son fucking my president’s daughter in the too near fucking future.”

  “Ain’t thirteen and eleven a little young?” I ask.

  Silver snorts. “Think about yourself at thirteen,” he grumbles.

  “Fuck,” I hiss.

  He snorts. “No shit, so Presley’s goal is to keep him as busy as fucking possible and avoidance. My goal is to keep him as far away from the clubhouse as possible, in a few years it won’t matter because they’ll be in school together again.”