Book Read Free

Striker: No Prisoners MC Book 1

Page 25

by Lilly Atlas


  Lila forced her body to relax though Earl still had a hand on her shoulder. “Why do you think I’m with him? I had no idea who was sending those messages, and I was terrified. I needed protection.”

  A look of confusion crossed his face. “But I sent the notes because you went off with them in the middle of the night.”

  How long had this man been spying on her? “Of course I did,” she said trying to sound incredulous. “Bikers showed up at my house in the middle of the night. I was terrified of what would happen if I didn’t go along with them. I got sucked in from there. Do you know what it’s like for an ol’ lady? We’re property. I had no choice. I’ve been living in fear for months now.”

  Striker wasn’t buying this, was he? He looked furious. His hands gripped the armrests of the chair so hard, his white knuckles glowed in the dim light of the room. Sitting helplessly by while she was forced to deal with the situation had to be killing him.

  Earl’s gaze softened a fraction, and his hand stroked up and down her arm in what he must have thought was a soothing caress. In reality her skin crawled with revulsion under his fingertips.

  “Oh, Lila, I screwed up. I’m so sorry.” He sounded truly upset by the thought of her being with the No Prisoners against her will. “Here I was trying to get you away from them, and my actions drove you right to them. Can you ever forgive me?”

  Was he for real? Forgive him? She wanted to drive a knife through his skull. “Of course I forgive you, Earl.” She remembered something about using a person’s name when in a crisis situation to make them feel validated and to humanize them. Maybe it came from a movie, but it didn’t matter now. “I’m glad you’re calling me Lila. You’re usually so formal with me and this is nice.”

  He smiled, revealing yellowed teeth, and continued to touch her, moving his hand to rub her back. “I’m so glad you aren’t mad at me, Lila. I’ve been so worried about you.”

  He was just crazy enough that her plan seemed to be working. As his touch grew bolder Lila’s legs started to quake. She slammed her knees back to keep them from collapsing under her, and gave him a smile she hoped was sexy. “Thank you, Earl, for caring about me.”

  He stepped even closer, and wrapped both arms around her in a tight embrace. Lila gagged as evidence of his arousal rubbed against her naked belly. She lifted her shaking arms, and attempted to return the hug. “I’d like to be with you, Earl, but how can I touch you properly when I’m restrained?”

  He pulled back a bit to study her face. His pupils were dilated wide and beads of sweat dotted his forehead. “I really want to trust you, Lila. I want to release you so we can be together. Do you promise you won’t try to leave?”

  She forced her lips to turn up in what she hoped was a sweet smile, and placed her free hand on his pale cheek. “Yes, Earl. I owe you now, for getting me away from the motorcycle club. I’m in your debt.”

  He considered her for a second, and she stood still, afraid to do anything that might indicate her deception. Earl reached in his pocket and fished out a key.

  Lila’s opposite hand flew to her sore wrist after he unlocked the cuff. She rubbed the bruised skin and fought to be smart and stick to her plan. The sense of relief at being unshackled was overwhelming. They had a shot now. She just needed to get Earl out of the picture.

  Earl placed his arms around her again, and smoothed his hands up her back. Lila clenched her fists at her sides and closed her eyes. There was only so far she could take this, and despite what her brain commanded, her arms just wouldn’t raise to return the embrace. When she opened her eyes, she locked gazes with Striker over Earl’s shoulder. He gave her a small nod, and the minute gesture of approval fueled her, giving her the fortitude to continue.

  Earl’s hands stilled on her back, and he pressed a kiss to her neck. A shudder of loathing wracked her small frame, and she prayed he would interpret it as arousal. With her eyes on Striker, the only thing keeping her from breaking down, Lila forced a small moan from her lips in attempt to keep Earl distracted. She wanted him engrossed in his task so he wouldn’t be aware when she made a move.

  The muscles in Lila’s arms and legs ached from the force required to remain still. She endured Earl’s lips on her neck as he landed kisses along the column of her throat. He was sweating and she felt the clammy moisture against her skin. With a groan, he ground his hardness against her hip, and slowly trailed his hands around her body. When they closed over her breasts, Lila reached her limit.

  In a lightning quick move, Lila lifted her knee, and rammed it into Earl’s groin. He let out a tortured wail, and his hands fell from her body to clutch between his legs. The handcuff key, tumbled from his hand to the ground. Lila took advantage of his distraction, and shoved him toward the bed with all her strength. She grabbed for the dangling handcuff, and slapped it around his wrist with a satisfying click.

  “The key.” Striker’s voice sounded weak and riddled with pain.

  Lila spotted it on the floor, and bent to retrieve it. She had no idea where to stash it on her body so she threw it through the open door and out into the hallway. For exactly three seconds, Lila felt triumphant. Then she realized Earl could still reach her.

  A cry of pain was ripped from her throat and fire lanced through her scalp. Earl fisted her hair in his free hand, and yanked her back. She cried out again as he ruthlessly backhanded her across the face, splitting her lip. It felt as though her entire face had burst wide open. Tears pricked her eyes, and she rose on the balls of her feet in an attempt to relieve some of the pain in her scalp.

  Striker feared he didn’t have long before he passed out. The room swam before his eyes, and his body felt wrecked. A clock on the nightstand read two twenty-seven, or at least he thought that’s what the blurry numbers displayed. Just four and a half hours since this fucker snatched them at the gym. Lila fell to the ground seconds after he did, and before he’d regained control over his useless muscles, Earl had stuck a needle filled with God knows what into his neck.

  He’d woken up forty minutes ago when the sounds of Earl struggling to remove Lila’s clothing crashed through his sedation. Earl had been muttering to himself about how Lila looked like a whore, and what a bad influence the club was on her. Striker screamed every obscenity he could think of at the fucker to draw his attention away from Lila’s nearly nude body.

  Earl had turned his anger on Striker, punching his face numerous times before he’d grabbed the bat from the corner of the room and did the real damage. Every breath was like a knife to the chest, and he guessed more than one rib was broken. The bat had connected with his stomach a number of times as well, and he worried Lila’s prediction of internal bleeding was accurate. His entire body hurt like hell, but he’d done his best to downplay it for Lila’s sake. She needed to keep her wits about her. He was helpless to free them, but he wanted to aid her in any way possible.

  Now, watching Earl run his hands and mouth over the body he loved, he vowed the man would not survive to see another birthday. Striker would find a way to kill him, slowly if he had the chance.

  Striker tried to channel the feelings of impotence into wrath. Lila was amazing, and his heart literally ached at what she had to endure to save them both. He vowed that she would never know another second of fear if they got out of this alive.

  She was so strong. Where many women would have panicked and been hysterical, his Lila pulled her shit together, and tried her damnedest to take this fucker down.

  Striker fought with everything he had to remain conscious. They would have to move fast if she incapacitated Earl. His respirations increased and his hands gripped the armrests so tightly he thought he might rip them right off as he watched Earl’s hands move to Lila’s breasts.

  He continued to observe, powerless as Earl and Lila struggled for a few minutes. Earl shoved her hard, slamming her fragile body into the wall where he hit her again, this time a full on punch to the midsection. Lila cried out then doubled over, her body heaving as she coughe
d. He screamed at Earl, but this time Striker wasn’t able to distract him.

  In order to keep himself sane, Striker committed each thing Earl did to Lila to memory. He planned to do each of those things to Earl once he got his hands on him, only with greater severity.

  “You fucking bitch!” Earl screamed in Lila’s face. He wrapped his hand around her throat and lifted her off her feet. “I knew you were his fucking whore. I loved you!”

  Tears streamed down her face, and she made a horrible choking sound. Earl still held her by the throat and her face turned an alarming shade of purple, but she continued to fight back. Reaching forward she clawed at his face, leaving a rake of fingernail scratches down his cheek. With a loud roar Earl threw her across the room. Her small body crashed into the dresser before it crumpled to the ground at Striker’s feet.

  “Lila!” Striker shouted. He struggled against the tape that bound him to the chair, ignoring the searing pain in his gut. Black spots swam in front of his vision, but he ignored that as well.

  Lila coughed, and gulped air from her position on the floor. The one thing they had going for them was that she was now out of Earl’s reach.

  Earl started toward them, dragging the bed with him, his shackled hand wrapped around the iron rung. Where was his strength coming from? It could only be born of rage and insanity.

  “Get up, Lila,” Striker ordered. He blinked his eyes in rapid succession, trying make the room stand still.

  Lila scrambled to her feet still hacking out a cough each time she tried to suck in a breath. She swayed a bit, and braced herself against the chair Striker was tied to. Earl drew closer, and screamed vulgarities at her as he advanced.

  “The bat, babe. Get the bat,” he whispered. Earl wouldn’t hear over his own screams.

  Their eyes met, and she nodded then hurried to the corner on the other side of the chair, where the bat rested against the wall. Striker thought she moved with a slight limp, but didn’t have time to consider it further.

  Lila grabbed the bat with both hands, her face a mask of agony, streaked with tears and black eye makeup. A loud battle cry erupted and she swung the bat, slamming it into Earl’s head with a crack that would have made Mickey Mantle proud. The man collapsed to the ground in a heap and the bat clattered to the floor next to him.

  Lila rushed to Striker’s side. She knelt in front of him, and swiped her tears away even as new ones fell. With trembling hands, she reached forward and tugged at the tape around his forearms in a fruitless attempt to free him. “God, Striker, he used so much tape. It’s going to take me forever to get it off. What if he wakes up?” Her voice was harsh, ravaged by the pressure Earl had exerted on her throat.

  “Look at me, Lila,” he commanded as he gazed down at her fear-filled face.

  Lila looked up from the floor at his feet.

  Her chocolate eyes gutted him. Terror, remorse, shame, and guilt stared up at him. All things he would have to help her battle once this was over. There was simply no time to address it now. “You did it, baby. He’s down, and we can get out of here. There’s a knife in my left boot.”

  She gave him a tiny smile. “I forgot about that.” Lila pulled out the military style knife he always kept in his boot. More than once she’d teased him about it. Not wasting any more time, Lila sawed through the tape around his arms first, and in seconds he was free.

  Before Lila moved down to his feet, Striker grabbed her face with both hands and drew it to his own. He pressed their lips together in a firm kiss. Both their mouths were bleeding and he didn’t want to cause her any further pain, but he needed to feel her for just a moment. “Let’s get out of here, baby. I’m not going to last much longer.”

  Lila pulled herself together, and liberated his legs and trunk from the chair. He rotated his wrists and ankles to get the blood flowing as renewed pain flooded his system. Shit, that hurt like a son of a bitch.

  “Can you walk?” she asked.

  “I think so. I may need to lean on you a bit, but first you need to find something to cover up with.”

  She peered down at herself, clad only in her lingerie. “Shit, I completely forgot.” She looked around as though searching for her clothes.

  “They aren’t here. I think he destroyed them. Grab something from that dresser.”

  A look of panic crossed her face, and she shook her head vigorously. “No! I can’t put something of his on my body. I can’t do it.”

  She sounded close to the edge, so Striker worked to keep his voice calm. “It’s all right, baby. Help me get my cut off then you can take my sweatshirt. Just unzip it and slide it off me.”

  She shook her head again.

  “I’ll be fine Lila, I promise you. We need to roll before he comes around.”

  She moved toward him, and helped ease him out of his cut. Then, slowly, she worked the sweatshirt down his arms. They didn’t really have the time to waste, but she was trying not to hurt him, and not to freak out, so he didn’t rush her.

  Once it was off, she slipped it over her own body. Striker leaned forward and fumbled with the zipper but was able to close the sweatshirt for her. It was long enough to cover her ass, but the garters and stockings were still visible. It would have to do. He didn’t have a clue where her shoes were, but she could get by without them.

  He slipped his cut back on, then struggled to stand and take a step forward. The world spun and he almost fell on his face, but Lila was there to take his weight. With Lila’s arm around his waist, they hobbled into the hallway.

  “I think he drove us here in your car.” Striker gasped as his ribs screamed in pain. “Look, there on the counter.” He pointed to a kitchen counter about fifteen feet away. “I think those are your keys.”

  “Oh thank God.” Lila swiped the keys from the counter and they staggered their way toward the exit. “Where the hell are we? I don’t see a phone, and you need a hospital. Who knows where our cells are.” Her voice sounded rough and raw, and he knew her throat had to be sore.

  “Earl told me exactly where we are. Bastard bragged all about how he planned this, and how we’re actually really close to the gym. Go there. Jester and Hook will take care of everything and get us to the hospital. You hit your head on the concrete and passed out. You shouldn’t be driving at all. This road ends at a cross in about a mile. Take a right and the gym is about a mile and a half down on the left.”

  They struggled through the front door, and out into the night. It was cold, and next to him Lila trembled from the chill. The house they were in was small, a typical one story desert dwelling. There weren’t any others on this road, at least not that they could see in the black of night.

  Striker stumbled, and a groan of pain escaped Lila as his weight on her increased. “Sorry, babe. I think I’m going to pass out.”

  They were at the car, and instead of answering, Lila leaned him against it as she opened the rear door. She helped ease him inside, and encouraged him to lie down. “I need you to try and stay awake Striker. Talk to me as I drive.”

  He mumbled something in reply, and heard the car door slam as the world went black.

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Fuck, fuck, fuck. This was not good. Striker needed to get to the hospital, and fast. Lila’s entire body throbbed in pain. She hadn’t said anything, but she was dizzy and her head pounded. There was a good chance she’d lose consciousness as well.

  She’d never be able to drive all the way to the hospital. The best option was to do what Striker suggested, and drive back to the gym. The party should still be going strong, and his brothers would take care of them.

  Petrified that Earl might wake up at any moment, Lila moved as fast as her aching body allowed. Her throat was on fire, her ribs throbbed from where they’d crashed against the dresser, and she thought her ankle was sprained. She worked not to fall into hysterics. That could come later.

  Gingerly, she climbed into the driver’s seat, locked the doors, started the car, and pulled out onto the dark r
oad. For the first time since she woke up in hell, Lila had confidence they would make it. Earl was back in the house, hopefully still cuffed to the bed, and they’d made it out alive.

  The MC would never call the cops on him, preferring to handle him on their own. She tried to feel guilty about that, but it didn’t come.

  Striker was right. The gym was very close, and within minutes it came into view. Lila sobbed in relief as the car drew closer to it. With a hard jerk of the steering wheel, she flew into the parking lot, and around the back of the building where the party was still going full blast. Lila laid on the horn to attract as much attention as possible. Tears blocked her vision, and she slammed the car in park.

  With the last of her strength, she shoved the door open, and stumbled out only to look up and glimpse about fifty stunned bikers staring at her, and no less than ten weapons trained on her. “Help,” she said weakly, swaying on her feet.

  “Holy fucking shit! Lila? Put your weapons away! What the fuck happened to you?”

  She glanced up again. Jester sprinted toward her, and she collapsed to her knees, loud sobs echoing through the quiet lot. She couldn’t imagine what they all thought of her right now as she bawled on the ground bleeding, covered in bruises and wearing nothing but a sweatshirt and some lingerie.

  Jester reached her in seconds, and scooped her into his arms where he cradled her against his enormous chest.

  “Striker’s in the back seat,” she choked out between sobs. “He needs help immediately. I need some too. That crazy man who was my patient at the hospital, Earl White, took us from the parking lot. He was behind everything, the Grimms didn’t do a thing.” She turned her face, and buried it in Jester’s shirt as the tears flowed.

  “Fuck,” Jester bit out. “Okay, honey, I’ve got you. You’re safe now. Hook, I’m gonna drive Lila’s car to the hospital. Follow us with a few other guys, and let Shiv know what’s going on.”

  Hook nodded and sprang into action, motioning for others to join him as he pulled out his phone.

 

‹ Prev