Stoned (Unlikely Heroes Book 4)

by Leslie Georgeson

  Stealing himself for whatever was about to happen, he yanked open the door.

  Scorpion stumbled into the room, followed by Grizzly, Spike, Buck and Cougar. Shit. If Viper had sent five guys, he must be expecting Stoner to put up a fight.

  “What’s up guys?” He tried to act nonchalant.

  “Viper wants to see you in his office. Right this minute.”

  “Okay.” Stoner strode from the room.

  Scorpion looked stunned by Stoner’s easy acquiescence. He exchanged glances with Buck, who shrugged and followed Stoner from the room. The other bikers trailed behind. Thankfully, they left Karen alone.

  He should have let Karen escape yesterday. But he hadn’t expected Viper to figure out his secret so soon. He didn’t know what had happened. He’d expected to be here at least a few more weeks before someone figured out the truth. He’d hoped he’d have enough time to get her out before the shit hit the fan and splattered all over them. But now it was too late for that. Now he was buried in shit.

  They marched him down the stairs toward Viper’s office. They all eyed him warily, as if they expected him to try something.

  They reached the door to Viper’s office. Scorpion knocked. The door flung open. Viper glared at them, his gaze skewering Stoner.

  “Get in!” he barked. “You guys, stay out.”

  Viper slammed the door shut after Stoner entered.

  As soon as Stoner stepped into the room, he realized what had happened. His gaze narrowed on the man who stood near the window, a man who bore an eerily striking resemblance to Stoner. The stranger’s hair was a lighter shade than Stoner’s, closer to blond than brown. His eyes were blue, not hazel like Stoner’s. He was a couple of inches taller than Stoner, but probably twenty pounds leaner. Stoner had to admit the guy was uglier than he was. Way uglier.

  The two men eyed each other up and down.

  “Didn’t know I had a twin,” Stoner joked.

  No one laughed.

  “What kind of fucking game are you playing?” Viper barked. “Who the fuck are you?”

  Stoner stared at the look-a-like. “I wanna know who he is.”

  “Cut the bullshit, Stoner. You know damn well who he is. I’ll give you one last chance to tell me who the fuck you really are.” Viper slammed his palms down on the desktop, the blue veins popping out in his neck, his serpent tattoo slithering in anger. He glared at Stoner.

  Stoner jerked his gaze toward his look-a-like. Having the guy he was impersonating staring daggers at him didn’t make the situation any easier.

  “I wanted to work with you.” He met Viper’s gaze. “I’m an expert marijuana grower, like him.” He jerked a thumb toward the real Neal Stone. “I saw a chance to work with you and took advantage of the situation. I know you’d do the same thing too if our roles were reversed.”

  Viper’s nostrils flared, the diamond piercings in his nose glittering off the light beaming down from the glass chandelier above them.

  “Why me?” Viper snarled. “And why him?”

  “Money. Don’t you know it’s always about the money? Together, you and I were going to be very rich men.”

  Viper’s eyes narrowed. “I’ve been talking with the real Neal Stone here and he says he’d like to do a deal with me too. So who should I choose, do you think? The well-known marijuana drug lord, a man who is a legend in his own right, a man who has already made a name for himself, or the imposter who can’t even remember how to clone pot after spending a day in the lab with an expert botanist? Who do you think I should choose, Stoner?”

  Stoner glanced at the real Neal Stone, who was still glaring at him from where he stood near the window. The man hadn’t moved a muscle since Stoner had entered the room. Was he preparing for an attack? Waiting to strike? Or just observing, waiting to see what Viper would do?

  Stoner turned back to Viper. “Why don’t you keep both of us? See which one of us provides a better product, faster? I’ll clone pot in the lab, he’ll grow it however he grows it, and you can decide. Give us a timeline to get it done, then you judge the better product.”

  “You think I’m a fucking idiot!” Viper stalked toward him, his features bunching up in fury. “I don’t need two marijuana growers, I just need one! And you, you lying piece of shit, are done here! You hear me? Done! Scorpion!” he shouted, yanking open the door. “Get him out of my sight. Take him to the dungeon and string him up. I need time to figure out how I’m going to deal with him.”

  Scorpion entered the room. Buck, Spike, Grizzly and Cougar followed. They cautiously circled around Stoner, expecting him to put up a fight.

  Stoner lifted his hands in the air in surrender. “I’m not gonna fight you guys. There’s no need to get violent.”

  He strode from the room with the five men tailing after him.

  He felt Viper’s gaze boring a hole in his back, but he didn’t glance back. He knew his time was limited. But if they were taking him to the dungeon, that meant they weren’t killing him. Not yet.

  Which meant he wouldn’t die today. They would beat and torture him, try to get him to tell them who he really was and why he was really here.

  But Stoner was tougher than he looked.

  He’d never tell them his true name.

  They reached the dank, dark dungeon, the musty smell of age and mold swirling around them. Stoner went into the first cell without a fight. They stripped him, shackled him to the wall, stretching his arms tight. He closed his eyes and went into “the zone,” bracing himself for the upcoming torture that wouldn’t be easy to endure.

  Stoner knew Viper had every intention of breaking him before he killed him. Even the toughest of men could be broken under horrendous torture. It would take everything he had to survive the upcoming days.

  Viper would likely kill him in the end.

  “Sorry dude,” Buck said before turning away with the others.

  “S’all right,” Stoner murmured without opening his eyes. He understood. He didn’t blame them. They were only following orders.

  The cell door clanged shut behind the bikers. Their boots clomped up the concrete stairs.

  Then…Silence.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  After brushing her teeth and hair, Karen nervously paced Stoner’s room, waiting for his return. He’d made her feel wanted again, desirable. For the first time in years. She’d never believed a man would want her after her mastectomy. But Stoner was special. He really wanted her. He couldn’t know how good that made her feel. She was falling deeper and deeper in love with him.

  They’d taken Stoner away, though she had no idea why. He’d obviously done something to piss Viper off, something that had caused Viper to send five men to bring him downstairs. What had Stoner done? She was scared. Without Stoner, she wouldn’t survive this place. Would they come for her next?

  Stoner had told her to stay close to Rebel if she could, that Rebel would help protect her if he was able. What the hell was going on? Would she ever see Stoner again? Her heart clenched. She had to see him again.

  Footsteps approached down the hallway, stopped. Karen paused in her pacing and spun around.

  The key card slid through the slot in the door.

  He was back!

  The door swung open.

  It wasn’t Stoner who stepped into the room, but a man who bore a striking resemblance to him.

  Karen stared. The stranger was taller than Stoner by a few inches, leaner, uglier, his hair a lighter shade, closer to blond than Stoner’s sandy-brown. His eyes were blue rather than hazel and held a meanness that Stoner’s lacked.

  His gaze raked her up and down before he closed the door behind him.

  Karen took a wary step back. Something terrible had happened.

  “Who are you?” she whispered. “Where’s Stoner?”

  He chuckled. “I’m the real Neal Stone. Your friend Stoner is in the dungeon, awaiting his fate.”

  “What do you mean?” Her heart nearly stopped. “The real Neal Stone?
What are you saying? What’s going on?”

  “The man you’ve been calling Neal Stone is an imposter!” His eyes turned cold. “He was impersonating me. Now he’s going to pay the price for what he’s done.”

  Karen sank down on the bed. Her head spun. What? No! It couldn’t be true. This man was lying. He had to be. She drew in a ragged breath. She met Neal Stone’s mean stare.

  “So who is he then, if he’s not Neal Stone?”

  The man shrugged. “He’s not saying. Not yet anyway. But once Viper gets done with him, I imagine he’ll be squealing his name out like a pig.” He chortled.

  Karen’s stomach churned. This was bad. Very bad.

  “Come on.” Neal Stone motioned for her to get up from the bed. “Viper ordered you to take me to your lab and teach me how to clone pot. Let’s go.”

  She shook her head back and forth. “No. I won’t do it. I refuse.”

  He stalked forward. Grabbing her arm, he yanked her up from the bed. She cried out in pain from the roughness of his grip.

  “Do what I say, bitch, or your life will get a lot harder, got it?”

  “You’re hurting me.”

  He smiled. Instead of releasing her, his grip tightened. She hissed out in pain.

  “I like to hurt people. So go ahead, give me a reason to hurt you and I’ll take great pleasure in doing so.”

  Karen glared up at him, but she was smart enough to give up the fight. This man was nothing like Stoner. He was evil.

  Pure evil.

  If she’d thought being with Stoner had been bad, she’d been wrong. Way wrong. Things with Stoner had just started to get interesting. Being with Stoner had been heaven.

  And now she’d landed in hell.

  * * *

  Stoner lost all sense of time. Day merged into night into day and then night again. His torture began a couple of hours after they shackled him in the cell. First it was beatings, well aimed punches from brass-knuckled fists, then rib, kidney and stomach kicks from steel-toed boots.

  But he refused to talk. He would not reveal his true identity to Viper. They wouldn’t break him.

  They left him lying on the concrete floor of the cell after the first beating. He curled into a ball, every breath shooting pain through his broken ribs. He went into “the zone” to block it all out.

  The light clicked on, the cell door clanged open, jerking him out of the zone and back to his pain-filled reality. Stoner opened a swollen eyelid, peering at the bikers as they reentered the cell. How long had he been down here? Hours? Days? He wasn’t sure. It was difficult to keep track of time when he kept drifting in and out of consciousness.

  “Go away,” he whispered, letting his eyelid drift closed.

  “Get him up!” Viper ordered. Strong arms yanked him to his feet. Stoner moaned, trying to block out the pain. He wobbled, his legs buckling beneath him.

  They hooked his arms in the shackles, stringing him up like a deer ready for butchering, spreading his arms wide until his shoulders nearly popped out of their sockets.

  Then the torture began anew.

  Viper had a mean-looking bullwhip he’d hand-weaved himself. Stoner had witnessed him weaving the leather threads together a few days ago. Viper had woven four or five tailing “punishers” at the end of the whip for inflicting pain. Stoner guessed it was similar to a Cat-O-Nine Tails whip used for torture by the Royal Navy back in the day. Stoner had had no idea he would be the first person Viper would try out the whip on.

  Viper put a lot of force behind each blow. Stoner felt the sting and tear of skin with each strike. Each time the Cat-O-Nine Tails struck his flesh, he flinched and tried not to cry out. But by the end of the whipping, Stoner had become so delirious with pain that he was unable to stop the groans and sobs from escaping his lips with the final blows. He doubted he would leave this cell alive. In his delirium, he imagined he heard feminine gasps from somewhere close by, but he couldn’t be sure.

  They released the shackles. Stoner crumpled to the floor, his flesh torn, blood oozing from numerous cuts. It hurt like a motherfucker.

  They will not break me.

  Viper leaned down to whisper in his ear. “Gonna tell me who you are yet?”

  Stoner opened his eyes. He focused on Viper’s ugly, tattooed face with the numerous piercings. “Fuck. You.”

  Viper’s lips twisted back into a snarl. “I figured you’d say that. You’d better think real hard about talking when I come back, because when I return, I will only give you one last chance to tell me who you are.”

  Viper rose and strode out of the cell. “Bring her in.”

  A scuffle ensued as they dragged someone into the cell and slammed the door shut. Stoner lifted a cut and swollen eyelid. He peered at his new companion.

  Shit.

  He let out a soft groan. “Hell Karen, I hope you didn’t have to watch me get flayed alive.”

  She dropped to his side with a sigh of distress, gently helped him up into a sitting position. “Those bastards. They made me watch and they made Rebel hit you several times with the whip. The poor kid looked like he was about to throw up.”

  “Ah hell.” Stoner winced as pain shot through his side. “I shouldn’t have gotten him involved. I’ll have to make it up to him somehow.”

  The bikers’ booted feet clomped up the stairs. The light clicked out, darkness surrounding them. A door slammed. Then silence rained down on them.

  Karen helped Stoner scoot across the floor and lean back against the wall.

  “Some guy came to your room and said he was the real Neal Stone and that you were an imposter. What did you do? Who are you?”

  His broken ribs throbbed as he tried to get comfortable on the hard concrete floor. The brick wall was cold and hard against his back, causing pain wherever it touched his torn flesh. It hurt to breathe. It hurt to move. It hurt to have her see him like this.

  He drew in a breath, gasping at the pain. “I can’t talk right now,” he whispered. “It hurts too much. Just…let me go into the zone for awhile.”

  He closed his eyes and leaned back into the wall, blocking out the pain as he let his mind go to another place, pushing aside the cold, the hard brick wall pressing into his wounds, shutting it all out…

  All except Karen.

  Even though his eyes were closed, his mind shut off, he couldn’t push her out, no matter how hard he tried. His senses were heightened around her. Every whisper of sound she made penetrated his brain, forcing his mind back to the present. He felt her every move, sensed the slow rise and fall of her chest as she breathed in and out.

  His mind filled with memories of the incredible shower sex they’d had, the water pouring down on them, her gasps of pleasure, the way her body had felt sliding against his. God, he wanted her again. But he hurt too much to do anything about it right now.

  Her sweet feminine scent engulfed him as she leaned closer. “I wish I could help you.” Her soft whisper forced him to crack open an eyelid. He peered askance at her.

  “Nothing you can do. Unless you want to prop me against the wall and fuck me ‘til I pass out again.”

  She giggled. She brushed her hand through his hair. “I would if I didn’t think it would hurt you.”

  Warmth spread into his chest. Damn. She meant it. He sighed, but even the small movement caused pain to flare through his broken ribs.

  “Just let me rest awhile.” He closed his eye again.

  She leaned back against the wall next to him. “They tried to make me show the new guy how to clone pot, but I refused. He slapped me around a bit, but I still refused. Then they tied me to your bed and left me there for a few days, but I wouldn’t give in.”

  He groaned. “Ah shit, Karen. Just do what they want and they won’t hurt you.”

  Her body heat seeped into him, warming him. “I told them I wouldn’t show anyone but you.”

  His swollen eyelids tried to shoot upward, but it hurt too much and they drooped closed again. “How did Viper respond to th
at?”

  She let out a snort. “He made me watch you get whipped and then he tossed me in here with you.” She shrugged. “But it doesn’t matter. I’m not showing anyone else how to do it.” She let out a soft laugh. “I didn’t show you the correct way, you know.”

  A chuckle erupted from his chest, causing him to groan in pain. “I know. I could tell.”

  “And you didn’t say anything?” She sounded shocked.

  “What could I say? Rage was watching. I knew he would report it back to Viper and Viper would punish you, so I said nothing.”

  A moment of silence stretched between them. “You can lean against me if it helps with the pain,” she whispered. He didn’t answer, just sat there with his eyes closed and tried to block out the pain. She gripped his hand and squeezed. “I won’t let you die.”

  The heat of her hand spread warmth into his body. He squeezed back. “I’m not a young man, Karen. Chances of me leaving this cell alive are pretty slim.”

  “You’re not old,” she fired back. “You can’t be any more than a few years older than me.” She pulled his hand into her lap and gently stroked his palm, sending shivers of desire coursing through him. God, only Karen could do that to him when his body was breaking down from pain.

  “I’m forty-eight. Way too old for this shit.”

  She ran her fingers gently up his arm, careful to avoid any injuries, stroking along his biceps and back down his forearm to his hand.

  “If you keep that up, I’ll be humping your leg like a sex-starved dog in no time.”

  She snorted out a laugh. She stopped stroking his arm and instead cradled his hand in her lap.

  “If you can’t tell me your real name, then can you tell me about yourself?”

  He sighed, flinching at the pain. “What do you want to know?”

  “Why are you here?”

  He hesitated before answering. “Revenge.”

  She mulled that over for a moment. “Did Viper hurt someone you loved?”

  “Yeah. Something like that.”

  “Something like that? What did he do?”

  So much for zoning off. Karen made it impossible to zone out and go to another place. If he wasn’t in so much pain, he’d pull her into his lap and kiss her senseless to shut her up.