by Jenika Snow
“It’s all I could afford, and I thought my family, if they came for me, wouldn’t think about looking here.” She’d run, taken what little money she had saved up, even stolen what she could from her family, and never looked back. Several states away, she prayed she hadn’t left a trail. But her uncle had been possessive of her from the very beginning, always watching her, keeping track of her. She’d taken the first chance she’d gotten to escape.
“You have a lease with this place?” he asked.
She shook her head and climbed the last flight of stairs. “No. This is a pay monthly place.”
He grunted in disgust. “You won’t be coming back here. We’ll figure something safer for you, even if you leave my apartment.
If I leave his apartment?
That almost sounded like he didn’t want her to leave, but that made no sense. She’d come into his life on very rocky terms, and he didn’t seem like the type of man to really do well with a roommate. But Elena couldn’t lie and say she didn’t feel safe with Striker; she feel like being with him would make everything okay. He’d saved her life, killed for her even, and knowing that her past was shit, he’d still kept her close.
Maybe he felt nothing for her but some kind of weird obligation, because he’d saved her, and he felt bad for her, but right now, she latched onto that. Elena had never felt that kind of emotion, had never had anyone care about her wellbeing. Even if her family had acted like they cared about her, they really hadn’t. She was simply a commodity. What they cared about was making sure she stayed pure and healthy, because their group and Elena’s uncle was what was really important. She’d just been their pawn.
When she reached her door, she grabbed her key and unlocked it. Pushing it open, the scent of staleness and age filled her head. It didn’t matter what she used to mask the scent, the building was just old and decaying.
Stepping inside, she took in the lack of décor, furniture, and anything that was remotely homey. Her apartment had nothing aside from a beat-up couch she’d found on the side of the road that someone was getting rid of. It was a little nasty to think about it, but she had a blanket thrown over it, and it was something that served as her sitting and sleeping area. She just didn’t have the money to buy anything, and that wasn’t her main concern anyway.
Striker followed her inside and shut the door. “This is your place, Elena?” His deep voice was hard, almost angry.
“Yes,” she said softly and went to the back room to grab her bag and the few items of clothes she had. Elena spent her money on food, paying her bills, and occasionally, she’d hit up the thrift store so she could have something to wear. She didn’t have a cell phone, didn’t have any kind of luxury item, but that was okay, because she had her freedom. That’s all she’d ever wanted.
“I know it’s not much,” she said from her bedroom, raising her voice so Striker could hear. “But I don’t have to have rules, don’t have to act a certain way.” She shoved her clothes in the bag, left the room, and went into the bathroom. She grabbed the few toiletries she owned and packed them as well. “I just wanted my freedom, and although this place is horrible, I have that,” Elena said more softly this time.
She turned around to leave the bathroom, but gasped when she slammed into Striker’s chest. He grabbed her upper arms to steady her and stared down at her. For a moment they didn’t speak, just stared into each other’s eyes. The intensity she felt was tangible, washing over her entire body. That picture she’d found at his place, the one of the bound woman with marks all over her body, had her instantly aroused. She wanted that, wanted to feel that, to experience that. Was Striker the man who had given her those makes, had restrained her? Was he the type of man that liked control? It certainly seemed like he was, and she wanted to experience that.
But, of course, thinking about that was ludicrous, she barely knew him, and she realized she couldn’t be with this man in any way. She couldn’t stay in one place for long, not unless she wanted to be found. But what if her family wasn’t looking for her? What if they truly didn’t care? It was an almost fantastical idea, because it had already been a couple of months. But she couldn’t let her guard down, couldn’t stop being on alert.
“Come on. I want you out of this fucking place.” He slid his hand down her arm and took the hand holding her bag. “I’m keeping you close and safe.”
And just like that, she was putting her faith, her safety, in a killer, in a biker that she was starting to realize made her feel things she’d never thought possible.
Chapter 11
Striker had watched Demon, Joker, Steel, and Shakes fall for their women. He’d watched each one become pussy whipped. Shakes had risked death for the love of his woman. Zeke, Daniella’s father, and Shakes’ father-in-law, had been after Shakes, prepared to kill him. If it weren’t for Daniella, they would have all been dead. The Soldiers of Wrath MC were a deadly bunch, but they knew they were no match for Zeke. That bastard had too much pull.
Glancing at Elena, he saw she was staring down at their locked hands. He made his way down to the vehicle and wondered if this was what his brothers had felt with their women. The need to protect Elena was so damn strong; it shook him to the core. He wanted to protect and fuck her at the same time, to possess her so no other man could.
Shaking his head in an attempt to clear his thoughts, he opened the trunk of the SUV, throwing her bag into the back of it. Elena didn’t have a lot of possessions to her name, and he intended to change that. She deserved beautiful things and a life she actually enjoyed. Part of him hoped her family would try and find her. He’d love for them to come looking, and he’d be ready to fuck them up.
There was no way anyone was touching her. He’d take his Patched brothers and fuck up the ones that meant to hurt her. Once Elena was in the car, he put a quick call through to Nerd, asking him to get every single detail of Elena’s life. Nerd started making kissing noises over the phone, and Striker hung up.
He wasn’t in the mood to be teased by his brothers.
“Is everything okay?” Elena asked.
“Everything is fine.” He started the engine. “You’re working tonight?”
“Yes. Would you mind taking me?” she asked, biting her lip. “I don’t want to go back down that alleyway again.”
“You’re not going anywhere alone again. I’ll be taking you and picking you up from work from here on out. And if I can’t do it, one of my club brothers will.” He intended to go to Dominion tonight no matter what. Striker was determined to get over this shit happening to him. Elena didn’t belong to him. She was merely a woman he was helping through a bad situation.
Providing he focused on everything that mattered, he’d keep control of it all. The only chaos in his life was provided by the club. He had to keep everything else in order.
Later that night
“Thank you for the ride,” Elena said.
“I’ll come in for a coffee.”
“You don’t have to do that.” It had been a surreal day. After Striker had taken her to grab her stuff from her old apartment, they’d gotten home, and he’d taken her bag into her room. What she was surprised about was the fact that when she’d gone into the room, it had been freshly painted. How had he pulled this off so soon? The walls were pink, which she didn’t mind; she liked it because it was soft, girly even.
Being close to him was incredibly hard. The explicit picture she’d discovered in his box hadn’t stayed hidden there for long. She’d pulled it out and now had it underneath her pillow. She felt like a creep for keeping it, but she couldn’t help it; it made her darkest desires arise. She couldn’t help imagining herself as the perfect submissive, being trained to deal with her Master. Was Striker a Dominant? A Master? A Sadist? She couldn’t help but hope that he was, and then she’d cut the thought down. The little bit she knew, had looked up at the library during one of the few times she’d been allowed to be alone, had made her somewhat knowledgeable on the terms.
Wh
at was the point in hoping for something she’d never get the chance to experience?
Striker wouldn’t be interested in her. He was helping her because he felt pity for her and that was all. Even as she thought it, pain struck her deep. Just once, she’d love to meet a man who’d just take her no matter what the consequences. She dreamed of a man sinking his fingers into her hair, tugging on the strands until it was painful, and kissing her passionately. Not only was he kissing her, he was tearing her clothes from her body, ready to ravish her, taking what he wanted without care.
What was wrong with her?
“I’m coming in. I’ve told you, Elena, I’m taking care of you.” He turned the ignition off and climbed out.
Hiking her bag up her shoulder, she tucked her hair behind her ear and followed behind him.
“Here, put this in your hair,” he said, holding out a band toward her.
Frowning, she shook her head. “I don’t want to wear my hair up.”
“Wear it up for me. I don’t want anyone else seeing your hair down.”
Elena wondered what he meant and stared at the band he was holding.
“It would please me if you put your hair up.”
Those four words, it would please me, was all it took. She grabbed the band, tucking her hair into a ponytail.
“Thank you.”
He was helping her. The least she could do was put her hair up. Following him into the diner, she saw Annie and Sasha were already there. They were watching Striker with interest, but the moment they saw her, she saw their concern. Not wanting to create a scene, she was about to make her way into the backroom. Striker stopped her, hauling her up against him. “Don’t tell them anything.”
“What?”
“They’ll ask why you’re bruised. Don’t tell them about the attack, because they might get pushy and try to fish for more.”
“They’ll wonder who you are.”
‘Tell them I’m your boyfriend if it gets them to shut up faster.”
“I don’t have a boyfriend.”
“You do now.” He pressed a kiss to her lips. “Don’t be long.”
She was stunned for a second, but then rushed toward the backroom where the locker was.
“What the hell happened?” Annie asked, rushing up to her.
Elena sighed. “It’s nothing. Some guy at my apartment complex was high or something. He tripped, knocking into me, and I fell. If it wasn’t for Striker, I wouldn’t be talking to you guys right now.”
“Striker?”
She swallowed her nerves. “My boyfriend, the guy I came in with.” Saying the words felt right to her, and she couldn’t help but smile. Maybe there was a chance of making him hers. The more she thought about it, the more heat she felt move through her. Elena liked Striker; she was attracted to him, and she wanted him.
Show him there’s no other woman out there like you. Give him no reason not to want you.
“He’s yours?” Sasha asked.
“Yes, he is.” It might not be the truth, but it felt great to say it. There was no chance she wanted to lose the one man who made her feel alive.
Chapter 12
After about an hour, Striker left and went out to his SUV. As soon as the door was closed, his cell went off. Keeping his focus on the diner, he answered it.
“Yeah?” he said in a clipped tone.
“Got the info you wanted.”
“Good. I’ll be at the club, but I need you to send a prospect.” Striker gave Nerd the address to the diner and hung up. He needed to know all there was about Elena’s family, and he needed to know it all sooner rather than later. But he wouldn’t leave her alone, so until the prospect showed up, he’d watch her like his life depended on it.
And it really fucking felt like it.
Twenty minute later, and Punk— one of the prospects that still had a good chunk of bitch time with the club before he’d be considered Patched-in— pulled up in his pick-up. He cut the engine, climbed out, and walked up to the driver’s side window of Striker’s SUV.
“You want me watching a woman?” Punk asked.
Striker looked at the diner again, saw Elena helping a customer, and nodded. “See the young woman with the dark hair?”
“The one with the sweet fucking curves?”
Striker snapped his head toward Punk and growled, not able to help the possessive and proprietary feeling that rose up in him like a violent beast. “You watch your fucking mouth.”
Punk lifted his hands in surrender.
“Show some damn respect. She’s mine, and if you say anything disrespectful about her again, I’ll rip out your fucking tongue. You hear me?”
“Loud and clear, Striker.”
Striker glared at Punk a little while longer and then exhaled. “You watch her like a damn hawk. You don’t let her out of your sight.”
“Got it. Do you want me to hang back or go inside?”
“Go inside. I’d prefer if you’re right there, but wait until I come back out. I want to let her know what’s going on so she doesn’t freak out.”
Punk nodded and Striker climbed out of the SUV. He headed back into the diner, searched for Elena, and when he found her, he cornered her.
“What’s wrong?” she asked, a towel in her hand, her eyes slightly wide.
“Nothing.” He looked into her bright eyes, felt something pull deep inside of him, and knew that he couldn’t just walk away. Striker didn’t know what it was about her, why she called to the possessive side of him, but he knew that he had to have her. He didn’t want to rush her or frighten her with his needs, but he also couldn’t hide how he felt … whatever those emotions were.
Striker had never felt anything remotely affectionate toward a woman, had never wanted to protect them, keep them close. In just two short days, Elena had twisted him up inside, and he knew with time, it would just get more intense. He felt that deep inside of him.
“I had some of my club brothers look up anything and everything they could find about your family. I’ve been told they have the information, so I’m heading back to the club to look at it all.” He cupped her cheek, loving the smoothness of it. He didn’t think he’d ever cared about anyone, not unless they were his club brothers, but as he stared at Elena, he felt something tighten around his chest. He might not know her, but having her close, knowing that he could protect her, made him feel like he could be a good man even if he was far from that.
“One of the prospects from the club will stay inside with you. He’s been told to watch you like his life depends on it, so don’t be worried about him or anything else. He’s here to keep you safe.”
She nodded. “Okay,” Elena whispered. “What are you going to do with the information you have on my family?”
He stayed silent for a second. “Whatever I need to do to make sure you stay safe.” Striker didn’t say anything else for a long moment, and then he leaned down and kissed her in front of everyone. He wasn’t doing this because he’d told her to tell her co-workers they were together. He was kissing her because he couldn’t help himself, because he couldn’t keep his hands off her. With each passing moment, he found it harder to keep his darker needs at bay.
Striker couldn’t contain himself on the best of days, and right now, it was taking one hell of a lot of strength not to tie her up, not to bring his belt down on her big, luscious ass, seeing the red lines of his erotic actions rise up on her flesh.
He pulled back, looked into her still wide eyes, and loved the fact she was panting; her lips were parted, red, and slightly glossy from his kiss.
“What was that for?” she whispered again.
“Because I wanted to, Elena.” And then he turned and left her in the diner. He tipped his chin toward Punk, letting him know he needed to go into the diner.
Once Punk was in the diner, Striker started his car and headed back to the club.
Striker had a lot of shit to deal with personally, desires that made him feel like a mad man, and the need to
dominate. He might want Elena, and that need was growing every single minute, but he also didn’t know what, or how, she’d feel and react to that admission. She seemed so innocent, had lived a sheltered, emotionally abused life. But he knew he’d have to admit who he really was, and what he really wanted sooner rather than later. If he wanted her in his life, he’d have to tell her all of it.
He pushed those thoughts aside, not needing to focus on that right now. He’d meant it when he’d said he’d do whatever it took to keep her safe, even if that meant taking out Elena’s crazy as fuck family.
Chapter 13
Striker drove toward the clubhouse to grab the details of Elena’s background check. Leaving one of the club brother’s with Elena made him feel like she’d be protected and that his nerves weren’t going to tear through his skin. He didn’t know what he was up against, what her parents were like. Before Striker took any chances, he needed some idea of who he was going to face. After dropping his SUV off at home and grabbing his bike, he parked near the gate of the clubhouse and made his way inside.
Nerd was getting a lap dance from one of the bitches.
Clicking his fingers, he gained Nerd’s attention.
“Business, now.”
“I remember a time when you used to be fun. What happened to that?” Nerd asked.
“I’ve got work to do. I haven’t got time to waste.” He snapped his fingers again, and Nerd growled at him.
“Not all of us have to worry about some kind of pussy.”
“Office, now,” he said, moving toward the office, which also served for church. He walked in and wasn’t surprised to see Demon at the desk, looking over some paperwork.
“Here’s your file,” Demon said, pointing at a file on the desk in front of him.
“Did you have a chance to look through it?”
