Biker's Virgin (An MC Romance)

by Claire Adams

  Like that moment just after Walter had ordered me out of the car. We had faced one another, and he had just promised me that he was going to rape me first. That was when my resolve had first formed. I wasn’t sure I could beat him, but I was not going to just lie down and let him humiliate me. If I did that, I would be stripping myself of any power I had, and I refused to make it easy for him.

  I had charged at him, and that charge had gone in slow motion for me. I saw the shock in Walter’s eyes when he realized that I was actually trying to fight him. Then I’d seen the amusement follow straight after. He was amused that I thought I had a chance of taking him on. If anything, that just made me want to fight harder.

  He was so cocky that he didn’t even bother to move. He just stood there, which gave me a great advantage. I aimed the punch for his stomach, and I hit him with such beautiful precision that I knew Zack would have been proud of me. Walter was not expecting the force and strength of that punch. He grunted forward, and then I swirled around and kicked him in the face, sending him straight to the ground.

  I saw the amusement drop from his face, and my confidence soared to new heights. He had just realized that I was not some helpless girl he could use and discard. He had just realized that I hadn’t just been hiding these past few months. I had been preparing.

  “Huh,” Walter had said, as he got to his feet. “The bitch has learned to bite.”

  “I can do more than just bite.”

  “Remember that the only reason you managed to make a hit in the first place was that I was unprepared,” Walter said. “It won’t happen again.”

  I clenched my fists and refused to let him get inside my head. I knew he didn’t have a gun on him, but there was a knife hidden behind the waistband of his jeans, and my next goal had been to get my hands on it somehow. The second time, Walter was the one who lunged at me. I moved deftly to the side and felt a little burst of triumph when Walter stumbled to the side without managing to touch me.

  He may have had strength on his side, but I had speed. Zack had also taught me how to fight an opponent who was larger and stronger than I was. I had never managed to bring Zack down, but I had succeeded with several of the other guys. Walter was closer to Zack’s size and build, but he wasn’t as smart or as skilled, and I knew I had to use that to my advantage.

  He wasn’t smiling when he rounded on me the second time. He was angry. He hadn’t counted on me fighting back. He had expected to humiliate me, and not once had he ever considered the possibility that I might be the one humiliating him. I decided to try and goad him into losing focus. It was just another way to distract him so that he would make mistakes when he attacked me.

  “You should really thank me,” I said as we circled each other.

  “Why the fuck should I thank you?” he demanded, narrowing his eyes at me.

  “You wanted to bring an audience, remember?” I reminded him. “If you had, they would have watched a woman beat your ass. That would have been embarrassing.”

  He had actually growled at me, and I knew my plan was working. He tried to grab me again, but I managed to wriggle away from his grasp and throw a backhanded kick his way. He didn’t stumble this time. He held his ground and grabbed my arm with a vice grip that I couldn’t break from.

  I felt a moment of panic as he pulled me towards him and head butted me so hard that I collapsed on the ground in front of him. Then he sent a kick straight to my chest, and I fell flat on my back as pain whizzed through my body. I found it hard to breathe, but I knew that I couldn’t let myself be so blinded by the pain that I stopped fighting.

  “Is that all you’ve got?” Walter asked, circling me.

  He was smiling again, and I could tell that he thought it would be easy for him now. He thought he had defeated me. He thought he had reduced me to a broken and helpless victim once more and now all he had to do was reap the spoils.

  “Are you ready for my cock?” he asked, as he started to unbuckle his trousers.

  I thought about the knife attached to his trousers, and I watched him pull down his zipper. I put on an act for his benefit, allowing my eyes to roll back in my head to make it seem like I was struggling to remain conscious. The truth was the pain from his hits had already become background noise to me. I was ready for the next move.

  He was about to lower himself down onto me when my eyes flashed open, and I slammed my knee up into his groin. My aim was slightly off, but I still made an impact. He yelled in pain and keeled over; exposing the knife I had my eye on. I didn’t hesitate. I grabbed it, but it was hooked into his waistband, and I had to disentangle it. That gave him enough time to realize what I was doing and push back.

  I managed to get the knife, but now that he knew what I was after, he tried to gain possession of the knife again. We ended up on the dirty ground together, rolling around, trying to get possession of the knife. I managed to get the blade out of the holster, and without stopping to think, I brought the blade down on part of him. In the heat of the moment, I didn’t even know what part of him it was.

  All I knew was that he was all over, and I needed to get him off me somehow. He screamed, loud and guttural, and I managed to push him off me and get to my feet. He was lying there, bleeding from the stab wound I’d managed to make in his leg. It was on his upper thigh, but the fabric of his trousers had managed to protect him somewhat. He looked more furious than ever, as he got to his feet and came at me with a slight limp.

  I still had the knife, and I planned to use it, but I was also aware of the fact that Walter had just upped his game. He had finally realized that I was going to put up a good fight, and he wasn’t thinking of entertaining himself anymore. He just wanted to end me.

  He lunged again, but his movements were slower because of the stab wound to his leg. I ducked and tried to whirl away from his grasp, but his hand sped out and grabbed me by the hair. He pulled hard, and I hit the ground, but he didn’t let go of my hair. He started dragging me towards the car, and I realized that I’d completely forgot about how we’d gotten here.

  I felt pain like I’d never experienced before surge through my body. And it was only then that I realized he was kicking me. And a second later, another realization hit me. He was prepared to kick me to death… like a dog.

  “Mila?”

  The sound of Zack’s voice pulled me back to the present, and I sat up and turned off the radio. The room descended into silence, and I went to unlock the door so that Zack could come in.

  “Hi,” he said when I opened the door. He was looking at me with obvious concern.

  “Hi.”

  “Can I come in?”

  “Sure,” I nodded, as I held the door open for him.

  We sat down next to each other on my bed, and Zack turned to me. “How are you?”

  “Better,” I told him.

  And I really was doing better. I had spent two days in the hospital, and I had been released only this morning. I had spent most of that morning hiding up in my room with the music on. I hadn’t spoken to anyone apart from Devon and Zack, and even then, I still hadn’t gone over the details of what happened between Walter and me at Gordon’s Run.

  “Mila… I know this is really soon… but the cops want to talk to you,” Zack told me.

  “Now?”

  “As soon as possible,” Zack sighed.

  “I’ll have to go down to the station?”

  “Yes… I can come with you if you want?”

  I nodded. “I’d like that.”

  Zack stayed silent, and I knew it was because he wasn’t sure where my head was. He didn’t want to do or say anything to upset me. I put my hand over his, and he turned to meet my gaze.

  “You saved me, you know,” I told him.

  He frowned. “Saved you?” he asked, in confusion. “I failed you.”

  “No, you didn’t,” I said emphatically. “You were the reason I got out of there.”

  “How?”

  “At one point, Walter had me on
the ground, and he was kicking the living shit out of me,” I explained. I felt Zack’s hand tighten under mine, but I kept going anyway.

  “For a second there, I thought I was going to die. And then I remembered everything you’d taught me. You had taught me to protect myself… and this was the moment I made you proud. So I rolled out from under him and sent a kick at his legs. He fell, and I limped as fast as I could to the car. He had left the car keys in the ignition, and I locked the door and started the engine again.

  “Before I could start driving, he was at my window, screaming obscenities at me. He was about to break the window when I started driving. I almost hit a couple of trees, but I managed to drive off… only to lose myself in one of the narrower paths. I was so flustered and panicked that I had no idea where I was going. I must have just been driving in circles, but I knew that Walter was after me, and he wouldn’t rest until he found me. And then I saw him—probably at the same time he saw me. He had murder in his eyes, and I knew then that if I didn’t kill him, he would definitely kill me. So….”

  I trailed off as I relived the memory, and I felt a shiver pass through my body. It was not an easy thing to take a life… no matter how unworthy that life may be.

  “Mila?”

  “I drove the car right into him.”

  Zack nodded. “I know.”

  “You saw his body?” I asked.

  “Yes.”

  “He’s really dead?”

  “He’s really dead,” Zack confirmed. “You’re safe.”

  I leaned into Zack, and he wrapped his arms around me. “Thank you,” I whispered to him.

  “No, I’m the one who should be thanking you,” Zack replied.

  So many different things were flashing through my mind that it didn’t really register, and it was only later that I wondered what he was thanking me for.

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Zack

  “Morning, Sheriff,” I greeted, as he passed by me ready to climb the steps to the station.

  He turned around in surprise and caught sight of me next to my Harley. I walked over to him, and he gave me a curt nod that was not unfriendly.

  “I heard you took Godwin in for questioning yesterday.”

  The sheriff looked resigned to the fact that I probably knew more than I should have. “We did,” he nodded. “But he’s not in our custody anymore.”

  “He’s dying,” I said, unsure why I volunteered the information. Was it possible that after years of hate, I had actually developed the capacity to feel sympathy for a man I had considered my enemy?

  “I’m aware,” the sheriff replied. “Which is one of the main reasons he’s walking around today. There’s no point in convicting a dead man. He’s got a mark on his back as it is.”

  “Did you have enough to convict him in the first place?”

  “His boys were all eager to flap their gums once they knew that we had them in our sights,” the sheriff continued. “The Lucifer’s Knights were involved in money laundering, drug trafficking, and arms dealing.”

  “Ah,” I said, even though none of this was news to me.

  “The thing is… Godwin seemed to have lost interest in all his ventures once he received his diagnosis. He had stopped conducting business, and he had lost half of his clients as well as some of his men.”

  “He lost them to Ghost,” I pointed out.

  “Because as usual, the mindless need someone they perceive to be strong to follow.”

  “Not all who follow are mindless,” I interjected, thinking of my own men.

  The sheriff understood what I meant by that, and he smiled. “His real name was Hiram Stanley.”

  “Whose?”

  “The man you call Ghost,” The sheriff replied. “He was born Hiram Stanley. Ghost was just a nickname he concocted to inspire fear.”

  “And Walter Black?”

  “A stolen identity,” the sheriff replied. “Turns out he was a seventy-year-old man from Louisiana who died three years ago. Turns out that Hiram Stanley was wanted in three different states.”

  I nodded. “Makes sense. And Mila?”

  “Her story was consistent with what we found at the crime scene,” the sheriff told me. “She killed him in self-defense… so she’s free and clear. I would recommend that she see a therapist though. She might suffer from post-traumatic stress for a while. When I spoke to her, she seemed a little fragile.”

  “She’s not,” I said immediately. “She’s stronger than she looks.”

  “I have no doubt,” the sheriff responded. “But even the strongest of us have weaknesses sometimes. You need to take care of her.”

  I felt a little stir deep inside myself, and I wondered if I would even have the option of looking after her. After all, everyone knew that the moment Ghost was found, Mila would leave. She was recuperating with us at the house for the moment, but I knew it was only a matter of time before she decided she needed to move on with her life. The big question was if it was possible for me to move on with mine without her?

  “What about the Knights?” I asked without addressing his previous statement.

  “There’s a handful of them left now,” the sheriff replied. “And all of them know that they’ll be closely watched from now on. Gone are the days when the police turned a blind eye simply because it was more convenient that way. I’m not going to do what my predecessor did and look the other way.”

  “You might have a hard job of that,” I pointed out.

  “Why? Because I have men in my department that are loyal to the Knights?” the sheriff asked. “Not anymore.”

  I raised my eyebrows, understanding what he was saying. “I see.”

  “Now that the weak links are gone, maybe we can re-establish some laws around this town. If the gangs here expect to be left alone, then they’ll have to follow the fucking law and behave themselves.”

  I smiled at the less than subtle warning in the sheriff’s tone. For all my mistrust of the police force, I had started to like this man. He was blunt and rough around the edges, and he didn’t inspire a lot of trust from the start, but he had the sort of personality that grew on you.

  “In any case,” the sheriff continued. “With Ghost gone, the men loyal to him who were involved in Mila’s abduction have been put away. Some have managed to get out of town, and the rest are still loyal to Godwin. Once he’s gone, there’s not going to be much of a club left.”

  “There’s always someone ready to step into the leader’s shoes,” I pointed out.

  “As long as they abide by my rules, we won’t have a problem.”

  I nodded. “Understood.”

  “How is Mila?” the sheriff asked, taking me by surprise.

  Apparently, she had made an impression when she had come in for questioning. Even though I had come with her, I had been forced to sit outside for almost two hours while she spoke to the cops.

  “She’s… holding up,” I said. “She told me what happened once, and now she says she doesn’t want to talk about it again.”

  “She feels guilty,” the sheriff said. “For killing him.”

  I gritted my teeth together. “I don’t know why,” I said. “He had it coming. He would have raped and murdered her if she hadn’t killed him first.”

  “You forget she’s not like you,” the sheriff told me. “This is not her life. And sometimes when you’ve lived this way for long enough, you forget that it should be a hard thing to take another man’s life… whether or not he deserves it.”

  I knew he was right, and I understood that Mila was processing through this in her own way. But sometimes I felt helpless, and that made me impatient.

  “I came here to thank you,” I said awkwardly. “For your help.”

  “I didn’t do it as a favor to you,” the sheriff told me. “I did it because there was an innocent civilian who had got caught up in your mess. I questioned some of your boys too.”

  “I’m aware.”

  “I found nothing concret
e enough to hold any of them,” the sheriff told me. “But if I do, nothing will stop me from bringing them in.”

  I nodded. “I wouldn’t expect anything less from you.”

  He looked at me calmly for a second, and then he stretched out his hand to me. “We can work together, Zack,” he said. “We can co-exist peacefully.”

  “I agree,” I nodded, shaking his hand.

  I left the station moments later and drove back to the clubhouse. The boys were scattered around the place, but I wasn’t interested in talking to any of them. I just wanted to get upstairs and check on Mila, but Devon cornered me just before I was about to go upstairs.

  “Hey, I wanted to speak to you about something,” Devon said.

  Sighing inwardly, I turned to him. “What about?”

  “You want to sit down first?” he asked, noticing how impatient I was.

  I suppressed my frustration and sat down in the living room. Red and Bones left the room surreptitiously, giving us a little privacy, and I knew they suspected what Devon wanted to talk to me about.

  “So… about Mila?”

  “What about Mila?” I asked, hating this conversation already.

  “I found this little town in Maine—”

  “What?” I interrupted harshly.

  “What?” Devon asked, in confusion.

  “Why the fuck are you trying to send Mila to Maine?” I asked. “The fucker’s dead, and there’s no threat to her life anymore. There’s no reason for her to leave town.”

  “I know that,” Devon nodded. “All I suggested to her was that I try and look for an apartment for her since she gave up her old one. But she wasn’t interested.”

  I frowned. “What do you mean?”

  “She seemed keen to leave town still,” Devon said, with a shrug. “She told me she wants a fresh start. She wants to put all this behind her and start anew somewhere else.”

  I felt my heart sink as I realized that perhaps this experience had changed her for good. She had finally had enough of this lifestyle, and she wanted a change of pace. She wanted to be as far away from my lifestyle as possible. We hadn’t spoken about the future at all since she came back to the house. She had been unusually quiet, and I had assumed she was just processing. But maybe what she had been doing was planning for her new beginning.