by Debra Kayn
Looking at her other texts, he found old ones from someone who went by B who seemed to know her on a personal level and asked for money. There were also current ones by Monica regarding work requirements at The Fire Ring. Curious why a woman wouldn't have more texts, he looked through her pictures.
There were only two photos. One of the rental house she lived in and one of an elk standing in the middle of a river. He peered closer at the phone. The scenery different than in Portland, he went off all the pine trees along the bank as somewhere in Idaho considering her relationship with the Moroad member.
He spent the next half hour going through her phone. In the morning, he'd hand over the cell to Elling, Slag's go-to for anything that had to do with technology and research and find out who belonged to the two phone numbers she called the most.
Closing his eyes, he let the tension ease from his body. Times like tonight, he had an urge to see his family. His sister, Norah, was in Seattle, and he was lucky enough to see her often when the Portland Chapter made their run up into Washington. His older sister, Lacey, and parents were in Norway. It'd been ten years since he'd crossed the sea. While phone calls were nice, he'd been getting the feeling from Lacey that she was worried about their parents getting older.
Dinah gasped. He opened his eyes and watched her sit up. She breathed heavily as if waking from a bad dream. In the dark, she had yet to see him in the room.
"Who the hell are you?" he whispered.
She stilled. "Can I leave?"
"No."
She rolled and faced the wall, pulling the blanket tightly around her. He couldn't help but admire her strength. Most women would resort to tears and begging. She hadn't reached that level of desperation yet, and he wondered what in her past made her strong.
He sat in the chair, resting while his mind refused to shut off. It was early morning before he finally heard Dinah's breathing slow and deepen, signaling that she'd finally dozed off.
Only then had he let himself sleep.
Chapter 11
"Mommy?"
Dinah woke with a start. Heart racing, she searched for the woman. Seconds later, she pressed her hand to her head, knowing it was only a dream.
She was in Brage's bedroom in the Slag clubhouse. There was no woman.
The pain deep in her chest, a burning ache, disoriented her. She had no memories of her parents. None.
Yet, she knew the woman that came to her in her sleep was her mother. She had long, dark hair, a slender face, and a contagious laugh that made her feel warm and happy.
Throughout the years, she'd tried to remember a time before it was only her, Brad, and Tony, and only blackness permeated every corner of her mind. She'd spent years demanding Brad and Tony tell her something about their mom and dad, only to have them grow angry at her. Eventually, she'd stopped asking and searching for answers.
Her brothers were so much older than her, almost a parental figure to her, she'd obediently listened to them, fearing the consequences.
For how much she hated the dreams, she clung to them. The cloudy vision was the only physical hint of a woman in her life, and the dreams always left her shaking.
Brage stood, startling her. "I'll take you to the bathroom."
She scrambled out of bed, rubbing her face. Caught up in the dream, she'd forgotten that he remained in the room. Throughout the night, she'd checked to see if he stayed. Every time, she found him on the chair.
She took pleasure in how uncomfortable he'd looked. Around six feet two inches and solidly built, the seat barely provided enough room for him to perch on through the night. Silently, she hoped he had a sore neck from the odd position he rested in.
Going out of the room, hope filled her. Brage was slower and limping from his night in the chair. Positive she could outrun him, given a chance, she needed to use the bathroom and look for an opportunity to escape.
Without waiting for him to tell her what to do, she knocked on the door and when no one answered, walked into the bathroom and locked herself in. This time, relieving herself came first. Then, she rushed through washing her hands and face.
All the makeup from yesterday had worn off, and she had no hairbrush available to use on her hair. She needed a shower and a change of clothes. Her belongings were at the rental house. She needed to get out of here.
Peeking out the door, she found the hallway clear. Adrenaline filled her. She stepped out of the room. Fearful of getting caught and yet determined to escape from Brage, she quickly decided running was better than sneaking away.
She made it to the stairs without anyone stopping her. Running down the steps, she jumped down the last three and landed on both feet. The door was thirty feet in front of her. She sprinted across the room, ready to dodge hands that reached for her but nobody stopped her.
The door opened and the man coming inside stepped to the side, letting her pass him. She stumbled out into the alley. The brightness of the sun blinded her. Not taking time to look behind her, she weaved her way through the crowd of bikers outside.
Ignoring her Jeep, she headed straight to the gate. Only slowing when she couldn't run any farther, she came to a stop. Excess energy left her bouncing on her toes.
The biker in charge of the gate looked at her. She pointed, heaving for breath. "Can you open the gate?"
He shook his head, refusing to let her out. She pressed her hands against the metal and pushed the barrier, trying to slide the gate on the wheels. It wouldn't budge.
Hurrying around the man, she grabbed the metal bar and jerked. Her shoulders seized at the resistance and she kicked out with her foot against the gate.
"Let me out." A sob stuck in her throat. "You can't keep me here."
She pushed at the man. Desperation wrapped around her and she lashed out, hitting the biker's chest. The helplessness of the situation a cold bite of reality as she dealt with a stranger holding her against her will.
With Brage, though fear hinged behind her anger at his treatment, there was always hope that he would talk to her, explain what was going on, but the man in front of her represented Slag Motorcycle Club. This wasn't personal between her and Brage. The large group of men was holding her captive.
"Damn you." She used both fists to pound on the bigger man's chest. "Let me out. Let me out..."
Her voice broke. She gasped for breath, the initial strength leaving her body.
An arm wrapped around her waist from behind. A new panic washed over her, and she kicked out as her feet left the ground, struggling to get away. She wouldn't let them kill her.
Her life wasn't supposed to end this way.
She wanted to leave.
She wanted to go home.
"Calm, babe." Brage captured her flailing arms with his free one. "Don't hurt yourself."
She threw back her head, connecting with Brage's shoulder. "Let. Me. Go."
Fighting his hold on her, she screamed, unable to break out of his grasp. Bigger and stronger, he was more determined to keep her.
Her feet left the ground. Afraid he was going to take her back inside the clubhouse and lock her inside again, she writhed in his arms.
Nothing she tried fazed him. He carried her away from the gate and put her feet on the ground and pressed her against the wall of the clubhouse.
She pushed at his chest, trying to shove him out of her way. He never budged.
"You used to like having me press you against the wall, the Jeep, the floor." His arms kept her in front of him.
She stiffened, shaking with rage that he'd remind her of her mistakes. If she would've known he was going to kidnap her, she never would've had sex with him or went to the party or agreed to help Tony.
Tears rolled down her cheeks. She was in a hopeless situation.
"Listen to me." Brage bent his head down to her ear. "I'm not putting you back in the room."
"Let me go." She grabbed the front of his vest as she held on to hope. "Please, Brage. I'll do anything. I just need to get out of here."<
br />
"Can't do that."
"I swear, you'll never see me again. I'll go far away. I can't—"
"Do you belong to Moroad Motorcycle Club?" He straightened to his full height.
She tilted her head. "No."
"Don't lie to me." He lowered his voice. "You were with a Moroad member."
Her heart raced. He was too close. She couldn't think.
Coming here and becoming friends with Monica and getting the job at The Fire Ring were only steps to helping her brother. She couldn't call the police, or she was turning her back on Tony. She couldn't confide in Brage because she'd start a war between the two motorcycle clubs.
After last night, she feared Brage was like the other bikers she'd known throughout her life. He couldn't be trusted, and she had good reason to believe she was in danger.
Without her brothers supporting her and under the watch of Slag Motorcycle Club, she only had herself to depend on.
"I was talking to a Moroad member. That's different than being with a Moroad." Catching a whiff of leather coming from Brage's vest, she concentrated on his beard. She couldn't let herself become disillusioned that the man in front of her would help her because they'd had sex together.
"Why?"
She swallowed, knowing Brage wouldn't stop questioning her until he was satisfied. "Moroad Motorcycle Club is in Federal, Idaho. That's where I grew up and went to school. It's a small town. There were only twelve kids in my graduating class. That might be hard for you to understand because Portland is huge. But where I come from, everyone knows each other. The Moroad member I talked to is only one of many who I know. For you to think I have an intimate relationship or belong to one of the members is stupid."
His eye twitched as he studied her. Only then becoming aware of the others outside watching the two of them, she refused to back down and look guilty.
Brage dropped his gaze and looked at her breasts squeezed between them. She shuddered, remembering what it felt like when he wanted to enjoy her and not kill her. He inhaled deeply and put distance between their bodies without letting her move away from the wall.
"Roar wants you to continue to work at the Fire Ring, but someone will be watching you at all times. When you're not in the bar, you'll be with me at the clubhouse. You're not allowed to walk out of the alley. If you walk away from me, stay in the area, and I'll leave you alone. Don't think that because I'm not beside you, any of the Slag members are going to help you leave." He lowered his hands from the wall. "You'll follow those rules until I learn the truth of why you're here."
"The truth?" She scoffed. "I told you the truth."
His gaze hardened. "Babe, I don't believe a word you said." His gaze hardened. "The kitchen in the clubhouse has everything you need. Make sure you eat."
She cupped the front of her neck with her hand. Her pulse frantically beat under her fingers. "You've kidnapped me."
He dipped his chin.
Unable to read what was going on in his head, she swallowed the lump of panic choking her.
"I...need my clothes. My uniforms." She held out hope that during work she could run out the front door. Since serving the customers, she'd noticed the bikers who acted like bodyguards were often pulled away from the front of the establishment. She'd bide her time, and look for a perfect escape.
Even if she had to confide in one of the male customers to help her get away, she would.
"I have men cleaning out your house. You'll have your belongings soon." He looked over his shoulder when someone called his name. Turning back to her, he said, "It'll only go worse for you if you break the rules or try to get someone to help you."
Then, he walked away. Left standing against the building, she gazed around at all the people. The members of Slag went about their day, talking, working on their motorcycles, and moving around the area. None of them paid her a second of attention.
She gazed at the nearest gate. The biker she'd tried to get her to help her leaned against the metal with his arms crossed. He wasn't looking at her, but she knew without any doubt that if she tried to escape, he'd stop her.
Chapter 12
Roar stepped out of the bar onto the sidewalk in front of the building. Brage pushed off the corner wall at the intersection, stubbing out his cigarette on the thigh of his jeans, and met his president in front of The Fire Ring.
"No problems with Dinah?" asked Roar.
He shook his head. "She's came out three times since her shift started but walked back inside once she noticed me here."
"Peer is making sure she keeps from talking to customers away from him and asking them for help. That's our biggest problem at the moment with letting her continue working here. We don't need word getting out that something illegal is happening within the club and have the cops swing by to look around." Roar pulled his hair back and quickly braided the mohawk on top of his head. "My other concern is having her around the women and one of them getting hurt."
They'd debated on whether to let her out of Brage's room. He'd suggested letting her have enough freedom to hang herself.
Dinah wasn't going to admit that she belonged to Moroad. She needed some incentive.
"I don't like the idea she's here," said Roar.
Brage crossed his arms and latched his hands under his armpits. It was on the tip of his tongue to tell Roar that he had nothing to worry about. Deep down, he believed Dinah wasn't out to harm the women. But, until he was positive about what she was doing here, he'd lean toward being overly cautious.
"Has Elling found anything on the background check?" he asked.
"Not since the last time I talked to him. I told him either you or me would be around after the bar closes to check in with him. Hopefully, he'll have answers then."
It was important to know Dinah's connection to the Moroad member. He needed to get a crew out to go after the man connected to her and end any threats coming at them. There was no questioning if Dinah came to Slag to gain information. The only thing left to do was stop Moroad from hurting the club.
If he had to make an example out of the Moroad member, he would.
Luckily, that month's extortion money was already safely split three ways between the Portland and Seattle Chapters, and the rest sent with a shipment of weapons on the way to the Mother club in Norway.
"We expected trouble to land at our feet," said Roar.
He rolled his lips over his teeth. "I never planned to stick my cock into the trouble."
"Fair enough." Roar slapped his hand down on his shoulder.
Peer stepped out onto the sidewalk and whistled. Brage whistled back, and he and Roar walked over to their MC brother.
"Brought you a burger. Peach is worried you'll lose weight standing around out here." Peer lit a cigarette.
"Dinah?" he asked.
"She's covering the bar. Marcus is sitting at the counter, listening in on her conversations, making sure she doesn't open her mouth."
Brage opened the bag and pulled out the hamburger. He ate away the frustration over having other men looking after Dinah. Things would've been different had she been authentic with him from the start.
Unfortunately, there was no place in his life, even in his bed, when she put getting dirty with a Slag enemy before him.
Family came first, and Slag MC was it for him. It was imperative they kept business going and money flowing toward Norway in the form of cash and weapons.
The door opened in front of the bar and a head of dark hair popped into his view. He lifted the burger to his mouth and took in the way Dinah turned her head, making contact with him, and disappeared back inside. She wasn't giving up. The moment he closed his eyes, she'd try and make a run for it.
"I'm going inside and keep Marcus company." Roar walked forward.
"Guess I better go in there and give Dinah her break." Peer dragged on his cigarette and flicked it to the curb. "Unless you want me to keep her working. I wouldn't mind—"
"Treat her like an employee." He wadded up the
sack and handed it to Peer. "If I hear of anyone abusing her, they'll answer to me."
"Ja." Peer's gaze softened. "I'll pass on the info."
His MC brother left. The ache in Brage's shoulders remained. He understood why Slag members would like to punish Dinah, but he wasn't going to let them hurt her. If he had to spend the next year tagging her ass to protect her while they settled the trouble with Moroad and moved on to harass the next motorcycle club in the territory, he would.
A high whine of a motorcycle invaded the night sounds. He turned and gazed down the road. It was a foreign bike. The rider came into view and rolled past the bar, lifting two fingers.
Within seconds, another rider went by without even looking in Brage's direction.
Only joy riders out enjoying the streets, he grabbed the back of his neck and stretched his muscles. An hour on the asphalt would do wonders at working out the knots in his shoulders. Or, sex.
Sex had a way of fixing all his aches.
He pulled out a cigarette and took up position at the corner so as not to discourage customers from going in the bar when they viewed a biker loitering outside.
Chapter 13
Brage opened the clubhouse door for Dinah. She walked inside. Her possibilities to escape the situation she was in dwindled and she had no other option than to spend another night with him in his room.
True to his threat, Brage had made sure someone watched her every second of the day and night. Even working at the bar stifled her chances of escaping.
Her skin crawled. She shivered. There were at least a hundred Slag members milling around on the main floor of the clubhouse.
They weren't looking at her, but their hate toward her was apparent. The men's faces hardened despite having no expression. The women looked at each other, sending silent questions and contempt from one to the other.
Brage led her upstairs and opened the bedroom door. She hesitated at the threshold. It killed her knowing there was a lock on the door that would be used while she was imprisoned inside.
