Hell on Wheels (Kings of Mayhem MC Book 4)

by Penny Dee

  I didn’t know where we were. A warehouse somewhere. He’d made me drive for miles before we pulled up outside the abandoned building. I didn’t know what was going to happen, only that it was bad.

  “You’re the only thing in this world that drives me crazy,” he moaned, his voice low and husky. Aroused. When he pressed his hips into mine and I felt the hardness of his erection, my strangled sob burst from my lips and died in the space between us. “I’ve missed you,” he breathed desperately. “I’ve missed you so much.”

  “Let me go,” I pleaded.

  His eyes glittered over my face. “I can never let you go again. Do you know what torture it’s been? Waiting. Wanting. Needing to see you. Smell you.” He drew in a deep breath as if he was capturing my scent to memory. Then his hand slid between my thighs. “Touch you.”

  “Please,” I sobbed.

  “I love you,” he whispered against my lips.

  With a yank, he ripped open my jeans and shoved them down to my hips. I knew what he was looking for. His initial. The one he branded into me when I was twelve.

  “It’s still there,” he breathed out. He raised his head to look at me again, and a triumphant smile curled on his lips. “See. You belong to me.”

  He kissed me then. Hard and rough. His hands holding my face still so I couldn’t turn away from him, his moan torturing me just as much as his tongue and mouth did. I bit down on his bottom lip and tasted the coppery taste of blood on my tongue. But this only turned him on more. He laughed against my lips. “Do it again, sweet Chelsea. Oh baby, do it to me again.”

  Sick fuck.

  He went for another kiss. But I brought my knee up and got him right in the balls. He growled and stumbled backward, the pain registering on his face before slowly morphing into anger. He stormed forward and whipped his hand across my cheek then squeezed my chin. His eyes glowed with anger and evil. And madness.

  “Why do you always have to fight me? Why don’t you understand that you are mine?” His fingers tightened on my chin and I winced. “What’s it going to take to stop you from running away from me?”

  He smashed his lips to mine. Hard and mean. But the sudden rap on the door ended the kiss abruptly.

  “What?” He barked over his shoulder.

  The door opened and a man with a skull bandana hanging around his neck appeared in the doorway.

  “It’s done,” he said. “He is in the warehouse.”

  Barrett let the information register and then smiled. “Excellent. I can take it from here.”

  The man looked at me and then back to Barrett. There was hesitation before he added, “You should know, Clint and Billy Joe are in the hospital. He fucked them up pretty bad.”

  Barrett shook his head with a chuckle. “Of course he did.” He gestured to the man. “Leave.”

  The door closed and Barrett turned back to me. “Looks like it’s showtime.”

  “What have you done?”

  He smiled evilly. “You’ll find out soon enough, sweet Chelsea.”

  “If you’ve hurt him…”

  His head snapped in my direction, and he glared at me, his face bright with rage. He thrust me up against the wall again, his gloved hand crushing my throat. “He touched what wasn’t his to touch, and now I’m going to make him pay. But the best thing about this is making you watch while I destroy him.” He leaned in so close his lips were almost touching mine. “Killing him quickly won’t be an option. Be ready. This is going to be torture.”

  Terrified, I watched him walk toward the small desk across the room. He picked up a cloth then crossed the distance between us. I backed away from him and moved around the room until he pounced on me and smothered the chloroform-soaked cloth over my face, sending me to sleep.

  CHANCE

  When I came to I was zip-tied to a chair. I raised my head and blinked to shift the fog from my brain.

  I tasted blood.

  I was in a small warehouse, lit only by one industrial light above us. Shadows crawled out from the walls. I couldn’t see anything.

  Then he appeared.

  Barrett.

  His sinister laugh reached me before I saw him.

  “Welcome. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.”

  I didn’t say anything.

  “You made a mess of poor old Clint and Billy Joe,” he said, amused.

  I gave him a murderous look.

  “It’s nothing compared to what I’m going to do to you.”

  He chuckled as he walked over and flicked a switch, sending a beam of light over an unconscious Cassidy slumped in a chair only a few feet from me.

  A growl ripped out of me.

  Was she breathing?

  Had he killed her?

  Relief flooded me when I saw the beat of her pulse in her throat.

  Barrett walked back toward me, pleased with himself.

  “See that? You and your club did that. I was happy to watch from afar. For the meantime, of course. It was all part of the game, you see. I knew her silly little friend told her about what she’d done because the stupid girl called me, said Chelsea had skipped town. I don’t know if she was trying to throw me off her scent or what. In all honesty, the girl is a fruit loop. But I already had eyes on Chelsea by then. I knew she hadn’t skipped town. Knew she was hiding out somewhere. And it added to the excitement, knowing how frantic she would be. How panicked. Wondering when I would show up. What I would do to her.” An ugly smile curled his lips.

  “You were using Satan’s Tribe to watch her.”

  “It was like we were fighting fire with fire in our little love dance,” he replied theatrically. “She had the protection of an MC, while I used their rivals to watch her every move until I was ready.” His face darkened. “But then you and your club had to go and get involved. Threatening to run them out of town.” He tsk-tsked as he crouched down in front of me. I glared at him, realizing I was staring into the face of a madman. “Not very neighborly of you.”

  He sighed and rose to his feet again.

  “You won’t get away with this,” I said darkly.

  Barrett looked at me as if it was the most ridiculous thing he’d ever heard.

  “Oh, but that’s the thing… I always do.”

  Cassidy woke up then, and she freaked out, lashing out with her legs and screaming.

  Her pain became my pain.

  “Baby, I’m here,” I rasped.

  She stared at me with wide eyes, her brow furrowing, her chest heaving. But hearing my voice seemed to calm her down.

  “Aww, baby,” Barrett mocked. He glared at Cassidy. “Is that what he calls you? Baby?”

  He inhaled deeply before crouching at her feet and looking up at her with an evil glint in his eyes. He reached out and trailed a finger slowly up her exposed thigh. She flinched, and I felt a stronger, more murderous rage take up inside of me.

  “What do you think, Chance? You like this? You like the way she squirms beneath my touch? The way she trembles. What do you think she will do when I force her legs open and force myself inside her.”

  “Let her go,” I growled. “Let her go or I will—”

  “Or you will what? Tell me, tough guy. What will you do?”

  I looked up at him through my brow. My eyes dark. My face the mask of a man who would rain down fire and brimstone if he hurt her. “Make no mistake. I will kill you.”

  Barrett feigned surprised. “How,” he challenged, “when you’re tied to that chair?”

  Pleased with himself, Barrett grinned and returned his attention to Cassidy, tilting his head to the side, his eyes gleaming with wickedness.

  “I know what she likes. I know how to make her… respond. Isn’t that right, Sister?” When I snarled with anger, he swung back to me. “Oh, you didn’t know? You mean, she didn’t tell you how I made her come? How her mouth said one thing but her body said something completely different.”

  He launched himself so he was almost on top of her, pelvis to pelvis, chest to chest
, his lips whispering against her ear as he added, “Not just once… not just twice… tell me, Sister, will you come for me again when I defile you in front of your boyfriend?”

  Cassidy whimpered, and I unleashed a roar straight from my soul. I rocked the chair side-to-side, desperate to get my hands free.

  Barrett stood up, a nefarious gleam in his eyes as he looked down at Cassidy.

  He shook his head as he circled her slowly, thinking, planning, enjoying the fear he saw in her wide, frightened eyes.

  “Nah,” he said suddenly, and the sinister look on his face forced me to fight the binds tying my wrists together. “I think I’ll just kill you.”

  Before I could blink he was behind Cassidy with one hand clamped over her mouth and nose and the other wrapped around her neck

  She screamed but they were muffled. She fought against him, kicking out and rocking the chair, desperate to break free, gasping for air.

  Fear ripped through me. I struggled frantically, my muscles fighting the ties, my teeth gnashing together as I roared with determination, fear, and rage. I rubbed the zip ties against the wooden armrests to weaken them, but it was no fucking use. It would take time to break them down. Time I didn’t have.

  “Stop!” I yelled desperately. “Tell me what you want.”

  Barrett didn’t move his hands and looked almost amused as he asked, “I’m sorry, what did you say?”

  Cassidy’s wide eyes begged me for help.

  “Whatever you want… kill me. Take me.”

  Barrett looked pleased with himself. He thought for a moment and then grinned. But his hands remained on Cassidy, slowly taking the life from her.

  “Oh, I don’t want to kill you yet.” His voice was smooth and calm, and he barely seemed to notice that Cassidy was slowly dying beneath the palms of his hands.

  “What do you want?” I roared.

  Darkness swept over his face. “You will succumb to me.”

  My eyes met Cassidy’s.

  “Anything you want.”

  She started to go limp, her eyes beginning to close.

  “I said anything you want!” I yelled at him just so he would take his damn hands off her. She was about to die and there wasn’t a fucking thing I could do about it but this.

  Relief ripped through me when he removed his hands from her. Cassidy’s eyes widened, and she gasped, desperately gulping in oxygen.

  He crouched down, and I felt the sharp stab of understanding

  He looked up at me from between my jean-clad legs.

  “I want you to submit to me, just like she did.” He licked his lips, his eyes gleaming with perverse pleasure, the front of his pants already growing. He slid up my body to whisper in my ear, “I’m going to make you come and it is going to torture you later because you will be filled with the shame of how much you enjoyed it. But only for as long as I let you live, of course.”

  He trailed his fingers across my chest, and I flinched at the intimacy of his touch.

  “Such a powerful body,” he whispered, biting his bottom lip as his fingers traced a line down my stomach and over the front of my jeans. He pressed his palm against my crotch and desire slithered across his deranged face. “I’m going to make you hard. Do you understand me? I’m going to take you in my mouth and suck you, and then, when I’m fucking you, I’m going to wrap my hand around your hard cock and jerk you off until you come with the pleasure.” He ran his hands through my thighs. “And you will remember it, always. The way my touch felt on your skin. The way my moans whispered in your ears. The way my cock felt inside you, filling you, making you come.”

  He exhaled with a shiver, lost in his fantasy.

  “You sick fuck,” I spat.

  But he just laughed and rose to his feet, adjusting his erection.

  Slowly walking behind me, he bent down and whispered, “You’ll try to forget. Try to tell yourself it wasn’t what you wanted. But your body will betray you. It will succumb to me, and it will ache for the things I’m about to do to you. And you will let me do them… or she dies.”

  His laugh was wicked. Deep. Low. Evil.

  He walked back to crouch down in front of me again.

  “And I’m going to make her watch.” He nodded toward Cassidy, who was staring at us with terrified eyes, tears rolling down her cheeks as he leaned forward and undid my belt buckle. Her eyes were riveted to mine.

  Look at me, they pleaded. Don’t look at what he is doing to you.

  They sent a silent apology as his hand slid across my thigh. I felt his hand on my zipper and heard the trembling breath he took in anticipation.

  “Oh you are such a beauty,” he whispered, his voice hoarse with lust.

  He bent his head as he lowered my zipper but realized his mistake in not tying my ankles to the chair when I drove my knee upward into his chin and thrust my foot into his chest.

  He fell backwards and I used the little time I had to start on the zip ties again, rubbing them back and forth along the chair arm to create enough friction to weaken them. With a ferocious wrench of both arms, I was able to snap both my wrists free.

  But Barrett was already climbing to his feet. Blood spilled from his broken nose and when he roared at me, I could see his blood-stained teeth were broken.

  He pulled out a knife and came at me. But even armed, he was no match for my years of military training. To his credit, he tolerated the right hook to the face, but the second took him down. He slumped to the floor, dropping the knife.

  Picking it up, I was able to get Cassidy free.

  But Barrett wasn’t done.

  Lost in his psychosis, he rose to his feet, laughing.

  “Well, ain’t that a bitch,” he said as he wiped his sleeve across his bloody mouth.

  Cassidy and I stood a few yards away from him, watching him sway on his feet as he continued to laugh. I was anticipating his next move. He was maniacal. Capable of anything. When he reached for the gun in his holster, I ran at him and thrust the knife into his shoulder. Spinning him around, I rammed him into the wall.

  Winded, he dropped the gun and slumped to the floor.

  I kicked the gun over to Cassidy.

  And then I lost my mind.

  I wailed into him. Over and over again. Blood and spit splattered across his face and the brick wall behind him as I kept going and going. Pain radiated in my knuckles, but even then I kept going. For all the terror, for all the torment, for all the raping and torture he subjected Cassidy to, I let it take over me until my angel stepped in and pleaded for me to stop.

  I straightened, breathless and wild.

  She had stopped me just in time.

  Because one more punch and I would’ve killed him.

  CASSIDY

  I had to stop him before he killed Barrett.

  I saw the fire in his eyes.

  Understood the rage on his face.

  “He’s done,” I said, putting my hand on his arm to stop the punches.

  He straightened, rope-like veins bulging in his forearms, sweat mingling with blood on his forehead as he caught his breath.

  Our eyes met and I saw him come back from the dark place he’d lost himself to as he’d pounded into Barrett.

  I reached up and touched his face, and his eyes filled with tenderness as he drew my hand to his lips and kissed it.

  Barrett’s baritone laugh reverberated around the room; it was dark and sinister, and it sent shivers up my spine.

  Blinded by a sudden rage, I dropped to one knee in front of him and shoved the muzzle of the gun under his chin.

  “You’re pathetic,” I spat. “Look at you. Bloody and beaten. Not so tough without your zip ties and biker buddies now, are you?”

  Fear shone bright in his eyes. He wasn’t sure what I was capable of, and I could see his mind racing.

  Would I shoot him?

  Did I have the lady balls to pull the trigger?

  In a blink of an eye the fear was gone, replaced by the conceited gleam I was all too f
amiliar with. It was the same dark light I’d looked into when he’d been on top of me, raping me.

  I shoved the gun deeper into his chin, my finger itching on the trigger. He didn’t get to look at me like that anymore.

  “If you think I won’t pull the trigger, then you’re even more delusional than I thought.” My eyes burned into his. “I want you to consider everything I might have thought about doing to you while you were violating me. While you were raping me. The pain I was going to inflict on you when I had the chance. The way I was going to kill you when the opportunity arrived. Well surprise, motherfucker, that moment is here.”

  The gleam vanished.

  “You were mine,” he spat petulantly. “Mine!”

  I leaned in closer.

  “I was never yours,” I said through gritted teeth.

  “They gave you to me!”

  He was like a child throwing a tantrum.

  “You delusional fuck. They told you to be a protective older brother. Not a raping, violating psychopath.”

  He laughed then, and I hated him.

  “You say you didn’t want it, but you did.”

  “I never wanted it,” I growled. “You just took it from me, not giving a damn that I didn’t want to do any of it.”

  “Then why did you come when I fucked you?” he leered. His face shimmered with the memory, and I’d never been more tempted to pull the trigger than I was in that moment. “Admit it. You’re just as fucked-up as I am. Just as turned on by the struggle.”

  I shook my head. “Having an orgasm during rape does not equate to consent. And I never, ever gave you my consent.”

  “Your mouth didn’t. But your body did.”

  I cocked the gun. I hated him. And I wanted him to die for everything he’d done to me.

  “Cassidy.” Chance’s voice broke through the pain and rage spinning around in my head.

  “He’ll never change,” I said without removing my eyes from Barrett. My finger itched as it rested the trigger. “He’ll never admit what he is. That he’s an entitled creep and a raping psychopath. He’ll just keep taking what isn’t his to take.”

  “He’s going to prison,” Chance reasoned.