Theirs To Defy: a Reverse Harem Romance

by Stasia Black

  “What the fuck?” He popped the half in his mouth, swallowing without water. “Where’s the rest of it?”

  She’d cut the pills into halves with the switchblade while Billy was sleeping this morning.

  “You just need enough to curb the craving. I need you sharp for what we’re about to do.”

  He narrowed his eyes at her. She could see the arguments on his tongue and she didn’t fucking have time for them.

  She clicked the button to release the switchblade and flipped it expertly in her hands to show off her familiarity with handling blades. “Remember, after tonight, you can have all the pills and shit you want. Just a little longer. But if you cross me…” She expertly slashed the knife toward his throat, stopping just short of hitting flesh. Didn’t stop him from screeching and tumbling backwards, grabbing for his neck and then looking at his hand to see if she’d drawn blood.

  “You have got to work on your bedside manner,” he muttered under his breath.

  “What was that?”

  “Nothing,” he grumbled. He sat back up, but several feet further away from her than earlier.

  She threw one of the smaller water bottles his direction. He barely managed to catch it in time as she pulled the box up and out of the hole.

  She spun the three small dials into the correct combination. 531. For May 31st. Her mother’s birthday.

  “Got any food in there?” Billy asked.

  She threw a can of peaches in his direction.

  “Fuck, can’t you ever just hand something over nicely?”

  She just threw a can opener his way next.

  “Goddammit!”

  She smirked, continuing to pull items out of the box.

  Her back up Glock. She lifted the cool metal to her lips and kissed the side of the barrel. “Mama’s missed you, baby.”

  She set it beside her, on the side opposite Billy. It wasn’t loaded, but better not to even tempt him. She needed him for what she had planned and it would be so awkward if she had to teach him a lesson first.

  She ruffled through several stacks of gold and silver coins and finally her hand closed around the object she’d primarily come for. She pulled it out triumphantly.

  “I don’t get it. You have a sat phone? So why don’t you just call for help?”

  She turned and leveled him with a glare. “And who exactly am I supposed to call? The police? The Army? Ghostbusters? Even the Capitol is gone to shit now. We have to do this ourselves.”

  Billy tugged at the collar of his T-shirt. “But do you really think this will work? I mean, it’s just you and me, walking into that big compound full of bikers with guns…”

  She smiled and tilted her head at him. “Don’t you remember, Billy? We’re going to take care of that before we ever get there. Now give me the can opener back. We need to eat some peaches and then get our asses on the move.”

  She pulled out a few more gadgets from the box and Billy’s eyes went wide.

  “Holy shit, is that a—”

  “Less talking, more eating.” She glanced up at the sunset. “It’s almost lights out. Game time.”

  Chapter Six

  BILLY

  This Drea chick was fucking crazy. He was going along with a crazy person’s plan.

  Billy hadn’t survived this long by being stupid. Head down. Never stick your neck out. Turtles were his fucking spirit animal.

  So there was no way he should be walking beside Drea, heading straight into the city that was the nest of one of the most notorious MCs. The Black Skulls had crushed all their other competition in a brutal gang war that coincided with the Texas War for Independence. Except that while New Republic troops were fighting off the Southern Alliance, the Black Skulls were systematically crushing and absorbing every other MC in the greater Texas area.

  President Goddard might have thought he kept them contained to their South Texas coastal territory, but that was a crock. They moved product all throughout the Texas territories. Beyond even, if you believed the rumors. Guns, pre-Fall luxury items, drugs, women—if it was illegal and expensive as shit, they trafficked it.

  And yes, Billy knew way more about it all than he’d prefer to.

  So, knowing exactly how dangerous the situation they were walking into was, why didn’t he just try to smash Drea across the back of the head when she wasn’t looking—assuming such a thing was possible with Commando Barbie—grab the three and a half pills left and make a run for it?

  The sane side of him hoped it was just because he knew that it was for exactly that reason. Three and a half pills was nothing. And as crazy as Drea’s plan was, if they succeeded, he would have all the shit he wanted for the foreseeable future.

  So that was why he crept down the darkened streets after her, shadowing her like… well, a shadow.

  It certainly wasn’t because he liked or respected her or anything.

  So, okay, it was sort of moving how she’d taken care of Eric when he’d helped her drag him up to the farmhouse and they’d gotten him settled in bed. Billy had already asked Eric but he decided to ask her if she and Eric were like, together because they definitely had some sort of thing going on between them. But she’d just done the bite-his-head off thing again. No, she’d snapped, they were just friends and Billy should stop being such a goddamned idiot.

  But then he remembered how much she and Eric had bickered before he’d gotten so sick and well, it made him feel kinda warm inside.

  Because he’d seen a lot in the years since The Fall. And someone genuinely looking out for another person when they weren’t getting anything in return for it? He’d like to say he’d only seen it a handful of times, but yeah, he hadn’t seen it at all. Ever.

  The only people he’d dealt with were the strictly I-scratch-your-back-you-scratch-mine kind.

  Drea grabbed his arm and pulled him into an alley so dark he could barely see his own hand in front of his face. Thunder had been rumbling all night and clouds blocked most of the moonlight.

  “Okay.” She shoved the satellite phone at him. “As soon as they answer, you say what I told you to say. Just like we practiced. Don’t fucking ad lib. Just stick exactly to the script.”

  Shit. His hand shook as she handed him the sat phone. He could still back out. Hand her the phone and just fucking run.

  But his fingers closed around the phone and when she dialed the numbers, he only gulped and nodded when her eyes met his again.

  She pushed the last number and it began ringing. She moved close, holding the phone up to both of their ears.

  His heart started racing. Not only from the danger of what they were doing, either. When was the last time he’d been so close to a woman? He’d slept with a city whore once but the whole thing had struck him as terribly depressing so he hadn’t done it again.

  Having his dick strain against his jeans wasn’t exactly helpful when he needed to be concentrating.

  “Who the fuck is this?” a deep, pissed off man answered the phone.

  Drea bumped him with her arm when he didn’t answer right away. “Um,” then he swallowed and shut his eyes, focusing and pitching his own voice a shade lower, “Fuck man, this is Grinder. Up at Bryan Station. Fucking Army’s up here, man. Goddard must have sent them before he got iced. We need back-up. Right the hell now.”

  “Grinder? What the fuck you sayin’, man?”

  “The fuckin’ Army’s here—”

  “Shovel,” Drea moved around to whisper in Billy’s other ear. “His name is Shovel.”

  “Shovel,” Billy said, eyes on Drea. “We’re fucking dying up here.”

  How the hell did she know these guys well enough to recognize them by voice? Looked like he wasn’t the only one with secrets.

  “Fuck,” Shovel swore. “Why aren’t you calling on the shortwave?”

  “They got some kind of signal jammer. Nothing was going through. Try it on your end. You’ll see.”

  Drea held up a black device with a flashing red light and the clouds
shifted just enough for Billy to see the wicked smile on her face. Damn, the more time he spent around this woman, the more terrifying she got.

  “Goddamn, you’re right. All we get is static. Okay, fuck. Hold tight man. I’ll tell the boss. We’ll let you know—”

  “Fuck man, you’re cutting in and out. Almost— of batt— Battery’s low. Might lose y—”

  Drea grabbed the phone from him and punched the disconnect button.

  Then she spun and crouched low to the ground, peeking out from around the corner at the building on the opposite side of the street. It was four stories tall and looked like it might have been an apartment building before The Fall.

  Another thing—it was lit up like a pre-Fall Christmas tree. The whole building had electricity.

  It didn’t take long to see that their tactic was getting results. A big garage door opened and then, like the rising chorus of a symphony, motorcycle engines roared to life one after the other. They poured out of the garage like a line of picnic ants.

  Shit. Billy couldn’t believe that actually worked.

  “Now for part two,” Drea whispered, standing up and smoothing down the tiny scrap of black cloth that was supposed to pass for a dress. The dress had been among the last items in the box, but it looked far different when she first pulled it out of the plastic. It was longer, for one, by about eight inches before Drea had done surgery with the switchblade. Then she’d cut a long slash down the front almost to her belly button so that her fucking amazing cleavage was all but spilling out.

  When she’d first turned around, Billy’s jaw had dropped open. She’d literally put a finger underneath his chin and shut his open mouth. “Drooling isn’t a good look on anyone, darling.”

  She was definitely a woman willing to use any and all assets at her disposal, that was clear.

  Billy couldn’t decide if he admired her for it or if yeah, it was just terrifying.

  She switched out her boots for a pair of heels she’d found in the farmhouse and then she slipped on the black hat with a little veil that covered most of her upper face—another farmhouse find.

  “Come on,” she whispered, waving at him. “Before it closes again.”

  They hurried across the dark street right as the first raindrops fell. Billy only took a second to blink up at the well-lit building.

  Damn. This was so above his pay grade.

  Then again, he was getting paid in the only currency he gave a shit about, so fuck it. He was neck deep in it now. Might as well see it through. What else did he have going on in his life anyway?

  He and Drea barely got across the street in time to duck under the garage door before it slid shut again.

  Shit. That was close. Billy rubbed his neck and looked at the door before glancing around them.

  The garage was huge, basically a parking garage turned into a space to work and store bikes and trucks. It was lit up and cars and motorcycles were in various states of disrepair, up on blocks all around the space.

  “Hey, who are you?”

  Drea’s eyes widened and she waved at Billy. He jumped to his feet and saw a huge, muscled guy standing at the other end of the shop glaring their direction. Fuck his muscles were big. “Oh. Um. We’re here— I mean, this is— Um. We’re here because— She’s a—”

  “Jesus Christ,” Drea swore, swinging her Glock around and shooting the muscled guy in the knee.

  “Holy shit!” Billy jumped back from her. It had barely made a noise because of course in addition to having a shiny gun in that little box of horrors of hers they’d dug up, she had a silencer too.

  The man cried out and reached for something on the counter. A gun. Double shit!

  But Drea was already on top of it. As soon as she’d taken the shot she covered the distance between them and dug the pointy heel of her shoe into his back to keep him down. “Don’t even think about it, Tweeker.”

  “Holy shit, that you, Bella?”

  Bella?

  “Don’t fucking move, you piece of shit.”

  Drea shoved her heel in deeper but the man—Tweeker?—just started laughing. Billy came closer, feeling like he should be doing something. He had no idea what, but… something.

  “Suicide always said you’d be back. Heard you and him had a real nice reunion in Galveston recently.”

  “Thomas and I have unfinished business, it’s true. But that’s not why I’m here. Where’s Bulge? He’s Pres here now, right? Since Thomas’s moved on to bigger and better?”

  Tweeker turned his head and spit Drea’s direction. “You can shoot my other knee out, I’m not telling you shit. You’re just a dumb bitch who never knew her place and I hope—”

  Before Billy even registered what was happening, Drea shifted the gun so that it was aimed at his back and then pulled the trigger. Twice. He heard two dull thump, thumps.

  Then she climbed up off of Tweeker’s lifeless corpse and Billy just stood, mouth agape, staring at her. “You just killed him!” he whispered, completely fucking freaking out on the inside.

  Holy shit. Okay, this wasn’t fun and games anymore. Not that it had ever been, but still. Dead body. Right there. On the ground not three feet away from him.

  So yes, he’d shot those guys who’d set out the road spikes and it wasn’t like he hadn’t seen dead bodies before, but he was trying to get away from all this shit. He promised himself he’d left it behind for once and for all and now here he was neck deep in it again.

  “What?” Drea looked at him like nothing was the matter. “He was a raping, murderous asshole. Trust me, the world’s better off.”

  She looked around the garage, then walked over and opened a panel on the wall, swinging the small bag she’d been carrying across her back. Billy didn’t go over to see what she was doing. No, when you hung with a chick who went around killing people without a blink of the eye—while you were trying to infiltrate a murderous MC just so you could re-up your stash of narcotics to feed your habit—maybe it was time to start rethinking your life choices.

  Billy ran both his hands through his hair, staring down at Tweeker’s lifeless face and the pool of blood growing on the concrete floor all around him.

  Shit, did he have to be named Tweeker?

  Not that Billy did meth—he was a strictly opiates kind of guy—but still. Fuck. Was this some kind of cosmic sign? Get your shit in order or else?

  “Let’s go.”

  Drea strode in front of him, features cold as ice.

  Maybe it was just a sign that he should cut ties as soon as possible with deadly assassin chick.

  “After you,” he muttered.

  She opened the bag she’d brought in, pulled out a length of rope, and then opened the door off the garage, holding it open with her hip while she put her arms behind her back. “Tie me like I showed you.”

  He obliged, eyes flicking up and down the empty hallway.

  He tied the loose double infinity knot quick enough though, and then he started ‘marching’ her down the hallway, following her whispered directions of left, left, right, left through the surprisingly empty building.

  Damn, when bikers went out on a run, they really went out.

  But then they opened a door to voices. A lot of voices. All the hallways they’d gone down so far seemed like service hallways. They’d gone through a kitchen. Passed by a room that might have once been a conference room or a gym.

  Now they’d apparently made it to the front of the building. It looked like a lobby. So this place had been a hotel, or like he’d first thought, some sort of fancy, expensive apartment building?

  The lobby was a huge open space with a bar on one end. About fifteen or so bikers were scattered all around on couches and chairs, women in various states of nakedness draped across them.

  The women didn’t look good. Almost all of them were bruised or had some sort of lacerations on their bodies.

  Billy had seen the sort before.

  He wondered how long they’d lived in captivity here a
nd if this was their first stop on the trafficking trail or if this was where they’d ended up after making the rounds around Texas or up through Mexico.

  He felt Drea stiffen in front of him, obviously seeing the women too. But she kept her head down.

  Billy felt fucking terrified but he clung to the peptalk Drea had given him before they’d entered the city.

  “Let’s face it. You’re a shit liar, Billy.”

  “Great. Glad we had this talk.”

  He’d been about to turn away when she reached out and put her hand on his arm. It was a touch that made him feel warm down to his bones.

  “But you have a superpower.”

  He looked up at her, feeling lost and entranced at the same time by her beautiful blue eyes. “I do?”

  “Yes.” She smiled then. “You’re an addict. And I’ve never met an addict who couldn’t stare me in the eye and convince me their grandma was dying and needed drugs with absolute sincerity. So just remember. You need the shit they have locked up somewhere inside that building. And the only thing standing between you and your next fix are a few teeny tiny lies. Got it?”

  So Billy cleared his throat and then spoke up. “Tweeker said this is where I could bring the new whore for Bulge?”

  “Who the fuck are you?” A man sitting on a plush chair that was on a raised area like a stage at the back center of the room stood up.

  He shoved a chick who’d been sucking his dick off to the side, standing naked except for his pants that were shoved down to his ankles and his motorcycle boots. He was huge, big as a tank, and tattoos covered his entire body. From his exposed legs to his junk, all the way up to his shaved head.

  The only space that was clear of ink were a few spots on his face. Billy had only seen a more intimidating motherfucker once in his life and he’d barely lived to tell the damn tale.

  He’s the only thing standing between you and your beautiful, beautiful reward, he reminded himself. A pile of pills. A plethora of Percocet. An ocean of Oxy.

  He could fucking do this.

  “Hey man,” Billy said, shrugging like he didn’t give a shit. “Suicide sent me with this whore for Bulge. Said she was some kinda present. That she’d been trained up special. That’s all I fuckin’ know.”