by Chiah Wilder
As tears rolled down her face, she whimpered and winced when they fell onto her split lip.
Not finding a key to release the chains, Hawk located a bolt cutter under the bed, broke the chains, and freed the woman.
Hawk looked at her. Fuck, she isn’t more than eighteen years old. Fuck these assholes. He extended his hand, and the young woman hesitantly placed her hand in his. Helping her to her knees, he gave her the bed sheet to cover her nakedness.
“What the fuck happened?’ he asked.
She shook her head, saying, “No English, no good.”
The woman is no help. “Who did this to you?” Hawk asked as he pointed to her bruises and bloody lip.
She hung her head down, her small shoulders shaking as sobs overtook her. “Vip do me.”
“Viper?” Hawk clarified.
She nodded. Hawk gestured for her to sit on the bed and wait for him to come back. In the hallway, he saw Ruben. “Have you seen that asshole, Viper?”
Ruben peeked around Hawk’s shoulder. “Who’s the bitch? Is she Viper’s whore?” he asked.
“More like his victim. She doesn’t speak English. He did a number on her. I think she’s one of the women who were smuggled, but I can’t learn anything from her. Where is that motherfucker?”
“No Nomads are up here. The brothers found a couple of girls in the basement: one is a cute blonde all prettied up, and the other one is in a cage, naked and wearing a collar and a gag. What do we do with them?”
“We’ll take them with us. We can’t leave them here. Let’s take them to one of the safe houses away from the clubhouse. The less they know, the less they can talk. It’d be too bad to have to dispose of them if they see too much, you know?”
“Okay, Hawk. I’ll take care of it.”
Before going downstairs, Hawk gave Ruben a towel and motioned him to hand it to the terrified woman for her bloody face.
Mayhem greeted Hawk as he approached the main floor. Six of the Nomads were on the premises, and they lay in puddles of blood. Looking at the grim scene, Hawk said, “Let’s take care of this.” The brothers went to work, making sure nothing would trace back to the Insurgents.
Opening a door off the kitchen, Hawk went downstairs to the basement. Entering a large room, he observed the two women Ruben told him about. The blonde was the same one he’d seen the morning before, and he recalled Viper singling her out. Looking closely at her, Hawk noticed she was young and petite, with small tits and blue eyes, and she looked familiar to him. Staring at her, he tried to place her, and her eyes shone with fear and contempt. Sitting on a concrete bench, dressed in a short, gold skirt with a crochet cream top which revealed her lacy gold bra, she looked like a young girl playing dress-up. It was like she decided to be a prostitute for Halloween, and her thick makeup lent a ghoulishness to her delicate features. Turning her eyes away from Hawk’s stare, she focused her gaze on the ground.
Entering the room, Chas and PJ looked at the pretty blonde. “Are there any more women down here?” asked Chas.
“Not sure. I’m gonna check the other rooms. Have any of you seen that sniveling pussy, Viper?” Hawk darted his eyes down the dark basement’s hallways.
Shaking his head, PJ said, “We haven’t come across him. Maybe he’s hiding in the woods like a pussy.”
“Sounds like him. These motherfuckers must’ve had quite a trafficking business going. What a bunch of sick assholes,” Chas said.
Nodding, Hawk walked down the hallway. Behind the basement room doors, the terror the women suffered made Hawk see red. Seething, he went through the rooms looking for Viper. Most of the rooms he entered resembled torture chambers, filled with whips, hooks, pussy lip stretchers, and wall-mounted ankle and wrist shackles. A few of the back rooms, under the stairs, resembled medieval dungeons, complete with steel puppy cages, punishment benches, suspension bars, and stockades. The smell of urine permeated the basement, and Hawk covered his nose with his hand. In all the rooms, dog bowls with water and food were on the floor, and dried blood speckled the walls.
Hawk left the basement in disgust; he was the last one to judge how people fucked, but it was about pleasure, not forcing women to do this shit. It figures that asshole Viper has to rape women to get them to fuck his limp dick. Where the hell is that sonofabitch?
Surveying the upstairs rooms, Hawk nodded in satisfaction while he gave the brothers the thumbs-up for clearing the room of all evidence. Looking at the women they found in the house, Hawk thought the club could find something for them to do in some of the MC businesses, and he figured they’d rather work at a dispensary or restaurant than be deported, but he’d let the women decide what they wanted to do.
As the brothers prepared to leave, Ruben came up to Hawk. “Word is Viper and two of his members are in Pinewood Springs.”
“Why the fuck didn’t any of you see him leave? Who the hell dropped the ball? Shit, let’s get going. I want to find that fucker.” Hawk’s jaw tightened. Cara was in Pinewood Springs. He signaled the Insurgents to follow as he raced to his woman.
In the distance, the low wail of sirens echoed in the canyon before Hawk’s phone rang.
“Fuckin’ badges are comin’. Shit, there’s a goddamn light show,” Jax said.
“Get your asses outta there!” Hawk shouted. “Leave the truck and haul ass. Take the back roads, and we’ll meet up with you at South Bend.”
“What about the women?”
“The badges will find them and deal with them. Do any of them speak English?”
“Not that I could tell,” said Jax.
“Good. Everything’s been cleaned up, bodies gone, and nothing links us to any of this shit. Now get the hell out. We’ll see you in about an hour.”
Increasing the speed on his motorcycle, Hawk and his brothers rode toward Pinewood Springs.
* * *
Streaming sunlight woke Cara up and she stretched out her arm, hoping to find Hawk’s warm body. Nothing—he was still gone.
She sighed and worry creased her brow as images of him hurt and bleeding stabbed her mind. Fretting, she washed up and went downstairs for a hot cup of coffee, entering the kitchen she looked around; she didn’t want a repeat performance with Lola or the other ladies. Thankfully, no one was in the kitchen.
After she poured a cup of coffee, Cara opened the refrigerator and searched for something to eat. A chair scraped against the concrete floor, and Cara whirled around; a young blonde woman greeted her with a big smile. She was a pretty girl with sparkling blue eyes that looked familiar. Walking over to Cara, hand extended, she said, “Hi, I’m Kylie. You must be Cara.”
Smiling, Cara shook the young woman’s hand. Of course, this is Banger’s daughter. I should have known that from her eyes.
“How do you like it here?” Kylie asked as she took a bite of a chocolate iced doughnut.
“It takes some getting used to.”
Kylie shrugged. “I suppose. This has always been my life, so I don’t know anything different.”
“For someone not used to the life, it can be a little overwhelming,” Cara said.
Kylie eyed Cara as she chewed her doughnut. “Aren’t you the one who’s supposed to teach me how to cook spaghetti sauce and other things?”
Cara smiled. “Your dad mentioned it to me. If you’re interested, it would be my pleasure.”
“My dad sure loves your cooking. He’s crazy for your spaghetti sauce. I’ve never heard him rave about anything so much. He wants me to learn how to make it.”
“We can set up a time in the next few weeks,” Cara said.
“How long are you staying here?” Kylie asked.
“I don’t know, but I hope to go home soon.”
Jerry walked in and grabbed a cup of coffee. He looked Kylie up and down and lingered on her rounded ass and curvy hips. Since Kylie had her back turned, she didn’t notice Jerry checking her out, but his lustful sweeps over her body were not lost on Cara.
“Hi, Kylie. You’re look
ing good,” Jerry said.
Kylie spun around, her cheeks reddening. “Thanks.”
“Does your dad know you’re here?” he asked.
“Maybe,” she replied.
“I bet he doesn’t. You better go on home before he sees you.”
“I don’t care. It’s boring at home. Anyway, I haven’t seen you guys in a long time.” She placed her waist-length hair behind her ears, jumped up on the counter, and crossed her long legs. Cara saw the lust in Jerry’s eyes as he looked at Kylie’s denim-clad legs while he shifted from one foot to another.
“Better watch yourself, or Banger’s gonna beat your ass if he catches you staring at his daughter,” Johnnie said under his breath.
Cara didn’t notice Johnnie come into the kitchen because the exchange between Jerry and Kylie distracted her. Her stomach twisted when she heard Johnnie warning Jerry. Knowing Johnnie spoke the truth, she hoped Jerry heeded his words.
“He’d beat your ass even harder if he finds out you’re talking to his daughter.”
Jerry hurled Johnnie a steely glare while Kylie, twirling a strand of hair around her finger, said, “So what if she talks to me?”
In the short time Cara was at the clubhouse, she picked up on two rules: Prospects didn’t talk until they were spoken to, and no one, patched or not, talked to Kylie unless Banger approved it. Kylie was off-limits to club members, and to men in general. The way Jerry acted toward Kylie was unacceptable, and if a member saw him, Jerry would receive a beatdown. Cara overheard him tell Johnnie that Kylie was the prettiest woman he had ever seen. Cara liked Jerry, but she knew Banger was overprotective of his daughter and had no tolerance for anyone who talked or flirted with her, especially a club member.
“What the fuck are you doin’ here, Kylie?” Banger loomed in the doorway.
They all jumped at Banger’s voice, and Johnnie busied himself by emptying the trashcans as Jerry, mug in hand, dashed out of the room. Cara cringed when Banger threw Jerry the evil eye.
“Hi, Daddy,” Kylie said. “Cara and I were arranging when I can start my cooking classes.”
Banger’s face softened. “Okay, that’s good, but you know I don’t like you hangin’ ’round here unless I’m in the room with you.”
“Oh, Dad, these guys are my extended family. They always have my back, you know that.” Throwing her arms around his neck, she kissed him on the cheek.
In front of Cara’s eyes, Banger melted, and the way his eyes shone with love for his daughter reminded Cara of her relationship with her own father. She padded out of the kitchen so father and daughter could share some time together.
As she started going upstairs, her phone beeped.
Sherrie: Where r you? Been trying to find you????
Cara: Sorry for disappearing, had to get away. Will be back in a few.
Sherrie: R u in Denver?
Cara: No, in woods resting. Needed the break. Don’t have good reception here. Will call when I get back. K?
Sherrie: K, but know u aren’t telling me whole story. :(
Cara: Will tell u everything when I get back. Promise. All is good. See u soon.
Cara hated to lie to Sherrie about what was going on and where she was, but she couldn’t risk Sherrie’s involvement.
As the pack of motorcycles roared into the compound’s parking lot, the ground vibrated. Cara’s heart leapt with joy as she let out a sigh of relief. Hawk’s home and he’s okay. Tingling with excitement, she ran to the great room as the front door opened and a group of members clad in blue jeans and leather walked through it. The minute Hawk came into the room, their eyes locked and she rushed up to him, flung her arms around his neck, and hugged him close to her. He dropped his head and crushed her mouth with his. Hawk’s lips tasted of salt and grit, and he smelled like the wind and the earth. As he devoured her mouth in front of everyone in the room, a primal sexiness emanated from him, and not caring how many eyes were on them, she pressed into him and stroked his broad back. Hawk was back and that was all that mattered to her.
“Oh, Cara,” he murmured, his nose running along her jaw down to her neck.
“Is everything okay?” she asked as she cradled his head against her shoulder.
“Yeah.”
Opening her eyes, Cara saw a young, pretty blonde with heavy makeup behind Hawk. “Who’s that?” she asked.
“Who, babe?”
“That girl behind you?”
Hawk swung around and saw the girl. “Fuck,” he muttered under his breath. “What the fuck is she doing here? Can’t anyone do anything right?” he yelled.
“Who is she?” Cara asked again.
“I don’t know. We kinda found her. I don’t think she speaks English.”
Cara stared at her in disbelief. “Hawk,” she whispered. “She looks like the women who’ve been murdered by the Mountainside Strangler. It’s too creepy.”
Hawk’s eyes widened. “Yeah, she does. That’s why she looked familiar to me. She’s been made up to look like the next victim. I fuckin’ knew the Nomads were involved in this sick shit.”
“Where did you go this morning?” Cara questioned.
“Club business. Change the subject.” His voice dripped ice.
Cara opened her mouth to protest but changed her mind as many pairs of eyes shot through her. “What’s she doing here?”
“Fuck if I know,” Hawk said, looking around to find Jax.
“I didn’t want to go to some fuckin’ safe house,” the blonde snarled.
The room fell silent as all eyes were on the petite blonde.
“Why the fuck is everyone staring at me?”
Hawk cleared his voice. “You’re American? Why the fuck didn’t you tell us you spoke English?”
“Because you didn’t fuckin’ ask me.”
“What were you doing with all those foreigners?” Jax asked as he approached her.
“Assholes picked me up. I was hitchin’ a ride, so I jumped on one of the bikes and my hell began,” she said matter-of-factly.
“Cara, go up to the room. We got club business here,” Hawk said.
When she opened her mouth to object, Hawk sent her a look that told her to back off. She turned around and went up to Hawk’s room.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Once Cara left, Hawk glowered at the girl. “You should have fuckin’ told us you were an American. Were there any other Americans in the group of women?”
“No, I was the only one. The dirtbags liked the ones who couldn’t speak English.”
“How long you been with the Nomads?” Hawk asked.
“’Bout a week.”
“Why weren’t you in the truck with the other women?”
“That asshole, Viper, said he saved me for something special. Some rich guy wanted me. He made me dress and put makeup on in a certain way ’cause he said the guy liked women who looked like that. He said he’d get a shitload of cash for me.”
“What’s your name?” Jax asked.
“Who the fuck cares?” Hawk shouted. Pissed that one of the brothers screwed up by bringing a witness to the clubhouse, Hawk pounded his fist against the concrete walls. The bitch knew about everything: the hit on the Nomads’ clubhouse, the safe house, the Insurgents. She was a fucking loose end. Fuck!
“I care,” Jax said.
“Cherri,” she whispered.
“Well, Cherri, what are we gonna do with you?” Jax asked in a soft voice.
“I dunno.”
“Let’s fuck her and throw her whore ass out!” one of the brothers yelled. Some of the other brothers hooted and clapped in agreement.
“I don’t care what you do,” she muttered.
Glaring at the brothers, Hawk said, “Shut the fuck up! No one is touching her. Got it?” Turning to the young woman, he asked, “What kind of jobs have you done before?” He wanted to keep this one close to home in case she squealed.
She shrugged. “For a short time I danced in a strip bar. It was okay and the tips were goo
d.”
“How old are you?”
“Twenty-one.”
“Do you want to dance at Dream House? It’s the club’s strip bar, and the money is good. If not, I can get you a job at one of the restaurants. Have you waited tables before?”
“Yeah, I’ve waitressed before. I’d rather be a dancer. It’s a helluva lot easier and the money is way better. Dream House sounds okay.”
“Then it’s settled; you’ll dance at Dream House. One of the women will get you settled, and tomorrow, you’ll learn the ropes,” Hawk said. Turning to the members he added, “Get Emma. She can go over everything and set this one straight.”
Jax jumped out of his chair. “I’ll get Emma. And I’ll keep an eye on this one.” He glanced at Cherri, who stood against the wall, her eyes fixed on the floor.
Hawk perceived the desire in Jax’s eyes, and he guessed Jax wanted to fuck her. “She’s your project now, Jax. Don’t fuck it up.”
Hawk turned toward the stairway; he was tired and craved Cara’s warm body. He climbed the stairs to his room, and when he opened the door, Cara sat on the bed. Crossing the room in three strides, he leaned over and kissed her.
“Don’t you think it’s spooky she looked like one of the victims? I’ll bet she was going to be delivered to the sicko who’s been doing the killings. Damn, she was lucky you found her,” Cara said.
Hawk had been thinking the same thing. If he hadn’t hit the Nomads’ clubhouse, she would have been the eleventh victim. She owes the Insurgents. That’s for damn sure.
“Are you going to call the police?” Cara asked.
“What? Are you fuckin’ nuts? We don’t call the badges for anything. We take care of business ourselves, Cara. Leave it be.” His tone was ominous, and her expression changed to one of complacency.
Glad Cara didn’t push it, Hawk rubbed his hand over his face. Exhaustion took over, and Cara’s cool hand soothed him as she stroked his cheek. “You look tired.”
“I am, babe.” He shrugged off his jacket, kicked off his boots, then lay down next to her. Nudging her close to him, his mouth sought hers as her scent consumed him. Fisting her hair in his hand, Hawk explored her mouth with his tongue. Cara moaned and drew him nearer to her, his cock straining against his zipper. As his hands traveled down to the waistband of her jeans, she caressed his leg with hers. Sliding his hand into her pants, his fingers sought her warm, wet pussy. He tickled her mound while she clenched her thighs and rolled her body in a figure eight. Each time she moved her sweet ass, her stomach rubbed his cock. Fuck, she knows how to turn me on.
