by Sophia Gray
His Captive Pet
Grim Rebels MC, Volume 3
Sophia Gray
Published by Sopris Page Press, 2018.
This is a work of fiction. Similarities to real people, places, or events are entirely coincidental.
HIS CAPTIVE PET
First edition. September 5, 2018.
Copyright © 2018 Sophia Gray.
ISBN: 978-1386971290
Written by Sophia Gray.
Also by Sophia Gray
Anarchy's Reign MC
The Baby Oath
The Bride Oath
The Biker Oath
Angel's Keepers MC
The Baby Vow
The Bride Vow
The Biker Vow
A Rich & Reckless Romance
His Bound Bride
His Bound Woman
His Bound Plaything
Grim Rebels MC
His Captive Bride
His Captive Toy
His Captive Pet
The Bleeding Prophets MC
Consume Me: A Bad Boy Motorcycle Club Romance
Consume Me Faster: A Bad Boy Motorcycle Club Romance
Consume Me Forever: A Bad Boy Motorcycle Club Romance
The Cantonneli Mafia
Moan: A Dark Bad Boy Mafia Romance
Moan Louder: A Dark Bad Boy Mafia Romance
Moan Tonight: A Dark Bad Boy Mafia Romance
The Marauders MC
Submission: A Bad Boy Motorcycle Club Romance
Submit Again: A Bad Boy Motorcycle Club Romance
Submit Tonight: A Bad Boy Motorcycle Club Romance
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Also By Sophia Gray
His Captive Pet (Grim Rebels MC, #3)
HIS CAPTIVE PET: A Motorcycle Club Romance (Grim Rebels MC Book 3)
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Epilogue
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Further Reading: The Baby Oath
Also By Sophia Gray
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HIS CAPTIVE PET: A Motorcycle Club Romance (Grim Rebels MC Book 3)
By Sophia Gray
I was his prey. Now, I’m about to be his bride.
I’VE SPENT YEARS RUNNING from my past.
But there’s no running from the bad boy with my name on his list.
He’ll either drag me back into the underworld I escaped...
Or force me to the altar to become his dirty wife.
Life’s not easy when you’re the devil’s daughter.
The things I saw my father do used to haunt my nightmares.
But that was the past. I’m a new person, now.
I have a good life. A pure life. A happy life.
And it’ll stay that way, as long as I keep away from dear old Daddy.
Too bad he wants me back home.
He sends his best man to come “retrieve” me – by any means necessary.
And if my father is the Devil, then Vance Tate must be the Grim Reaper.
He’s tall, dark, and deadly,
With twisted tattoos that curve around his bulging muscles.
And a weapon behind his zipper that looks capable of inflicting permanent damage.
I know what’s going to happen if I try to run from the hitman.
He’s going to chase me down.
Pin me to a bed.
And screw me senseless.
But to my surprise, Vance Tate wants something more than to cross my name off his list.
He doesn’t just want a quick bang, either.
He wants to make me his wife.
And God help me if I try to say no.
Chapter 1
Vance
Vance watched Teresa in horror. Her face was a pale mask that showed all the betrayal she was feeling. Time froze, and he replayed the conversation that he just had with his new father-in-law; the conversation that had ended any hope he may have had.
“Get out, Jimmy,” Vance threatened when they faced each other in the privacy of the kitchen.
“Ye know that’s not happenin’ that easily. I’ll go back when I get Teresa back.” Jimmy took a step towards Vance and grabbed him by the collar of his shirt. Vance grabbed his forearm, clawing his hand hard.
“She will never go back to you.” He growled.
For a moment they looked at each other in silence, and then Jimmy yelled at him.
“Ye listen to me! Ye have to come back to the club immediately, lad!”
What was he talking about? It was already clear that the deal was off! Had the old man lost his mind?
“I will not, boss.” Vince spat the word as an insult, and seeing the twitch on Jimmy’s face, he knew that his old boss was refraining from punching him. Good – he was actually itching for a fight.
“This ain’t the plan! Ye were supposed to marry her and bring her home, or else...!” he threatened. A sudden noise stopped him, and Vance turned to look in the same direction as his boss.
The kitchen door was open, and through it, he clearly saw Teresa, who had bumped into a waiter and was on the floor. The color drained from her face. She had heard everything... and now he had lost her.
Vance took off when he saw Teresa disappear into the main room. Vance forgot about Jimmy, his mind focused on one thing: finding Teresa and explaining everything to her. He had to make her understand. He had to make her see that he loved her, that the plan had long been forgotten, and that he could not live without her.
“Teresa, please, wait!” he yelled at her through the crowd, but if she heard him, she didn’t show it. Vance crossed the ballroom, running into blurs of people. He did not notice the looks on the guests’ faces, the whispers that went across the restaurant as people realized that something odd was going on. He tried to catch up with Teresa, but she was fast, and the crowds of people slowed him down.
By the time he got to the entrance, Teresa was driving down the road. He cursed under his breath. “This is not good.” He knew Teresa had been drinking a lot that night and was not in any condition to drive. It was dark, and his heart raced with fear at the thought of what could happen, crippling his ability to act.
He snapped out of it when he heard noises coming from the restaurant: people had started coming out to see what the fuss was about, and he had to leave before someone confronted him. He had to find her.
Vance sped down the stairs to the parking lot and soon found what he was looking for: his boss’s motorbike. It was too easy to hack the jumper cables and start the engine without the keys. He hopped on the bike and headed off into the night.
The cool air hitting his face cleared his head, and he followed the road fast and steady, adrenaline pumping through his veins and clearing any effect the alcohol may have had on him. He didn’t know how he would convince Teresa that what he felt for her was genuine, but focused on trying to find her before something bad happened.
He drove for what felt like hours until suddenly he heard a strange noise. It was like a car’s horn, reverberating in the night. He was crossing a windy road surrounded by trees that went up a hill when he saw the trail of a car that had skidded off the road. His heart jumped in his chest, and he felt like puking.
He hit the brakes and rushed towards the side of the road, vaguely hearing the motorbike falling on the asphalt. He followed the marks and in the distance, could see a car with flickering lights that had crashed into a tree. The honking noise was coming from that direction. He ran towards the car, his heart dropping when he recognized the license plate.
“TERESA!” Vance’s lungs burned in the cold night air. Luckily the car was not on fire, but heavy trails of smoke rose from the engine like snakes. He slid and stumbled his way to the car, his tuxedo getting completely ruined in the process. “Teresa!”
He didn’t hear her voice over the noise and Vance feared the worst. He got to the driver’s door, and tears filled his eyes when he saw her: Teresa was slumped over the wheel, hair and blood covering her face. She was not moving.
“No, Teresa, no!” he cried out. Carefully, he opened the driver’s door and reached out a trembling hand, trying to find her pulse. It took him a while, but when he finally felt her heart faintly beating against her neck, he let out a cry of relief. He knew that moving her in that state was very dangerous, but he did not trust the smoking car. An ambulance would take too long, so he decided to take her out of the car himself.
Her dress was stained with blood, and the wound on her head was still bleeding, but he felt her heart beating against her chest. He gently pulled her out of the seat, careful to clear her airway, and carried her towards a thick patch of grass near the road.
He called 911 for an ambulance. As much as he wanted to take her to the hospital himself, he couldn’t do so on the bike, and the car was totaled. He wrapped his jacket around her, his shirt smeared with her blood.
“Please, Teresa, stay with me,” he whispered, smoothing out her tangled and bloody hair.
Twenty minutes later he was sitting in the waiting room with Teresa in the emergency room. Someone had taken Teresa away from him on a stretcher, and another person had started asking him questions.
“What happened?” the voice said. Vance did not know who it belonged to but answered numbly.
“She was driving. She crashed into a tree. It’s all my fault” he said, shaking. He saw a couple of doctors exiting the emergency room and ran towards them.
He heard them talking.
“Female. Late twenties. Victim of a car accident with possible concussion. Signs of external bleeding,” they were saying. They headed through the doors and Vance followed them. He had to see her; he had to know she was okay.
“Excuse me, sir, you can’t go through,” a voice called to him, but Vance dismissed it. Anything and anyone that was not Teresa was not important. The doctors went through some double doors, and Vance planned on going with them, but a hand on his arm made him stop.
“Sorry, sir, that’s the operating theater. You can’t go in there,” the voice said gently.
“Let me go! I have to be with her!” he yelled, wanting to punch the person who was trying to stop him from being with Teresa. He faced the nurse, who looked at him with concern.
“She is being taken care of right now, sir, so the best thing you can do is wait here,” she said, gesturing to the waiting room. Vance looked at her as if he saw her for the first time, and suddenly he was aware of his surroundings.
He was yelling at a nurse in the middle of the emergency room, and Teresa had already disappeared to where he could not follow. Nurses and other patients looked at him cautiously, as if they were afraid he was going to flip tables over and break chairs. The desperation and fear within him caused him to start trembling.
“I-I’m sorry,” he muttered, lowering his head. He felt lost. He needed something to do, something he could take control of, or his world would crumble.
“We need to ask you a few questions, sir. If you will follow me.” The nurse spoke in a sweet, low voice that had a soothing effect, and Vance followed her to a waiting room. “Please take a seat and wait a moment,” she said and disappeared briefly.
Vance took that time to have a look at the place. He was in a waiting room in the emergency area of the hospital, and by the looks of the people that were there, this was the place where family members waited. There was a small display on the wall with instructions written on the side, and two doors: one that led to where he had just come from, and the other one was closed. Vance remembered that room – he had been in one just like that, minus the display, when his brother had the car accident. It was the waiting room for loved ones of those in surgery.
The nurse came back in carrying a Styrofoam cup and a file. He looked at her nametag: Emma.
“Take this,” Emma said, handing him the cup. He smelled black tea and sipped it sheepishly. “It will do you good.”
Emma sat beside him in silence, giving him some time to process everything. Vance drank some more tea – it was bitter and hot, but the warmth seeped through his bones and calmed him enough to speak.
“Thanks,” he said.
“Sir, I need you to fill out this form,” she requested. Vance looked at her with dead eyes. “Don’t worry, I’ll write everything down.”
Vance nodded, and she started asking questions.
“What’s your name?”
“Vance Tate.”
“And the patient’s?”
“Teresa Love.”
“What is your relationship with the patient?” Emma asked. Vance raised his eyes from the cup for a moment to stare at her. Was that question really necessary? He was wearing a tuxedo, and Teresa was wearing a damn wedding dress!
“I’m her husband. We got married today, if that was not clear,” he spat bitterly. Emma looked at him with her eyes full of pity and Vance looked away.
“I’m sorry. I have to ask.”
The nurse then asked him about Teresa’s information: her birthday, place of birth, blood type, and whether she had any allergies. Vance was appalled by how little he knew about her. He could only answer a few questions.
“How did the accident happen?” Emma asked when she was done filing the medical report and was about to start the accident report.
“We were at our wedding reception when I had a disagreement with her father,” he summed up. “She got upset and drove off. She had been drinking a bit, but I couldn’t stop her. I followed the direction she went off in, and when I got to the car, she had crashed it into a tree...” His voice died off.
It was all my fault, he inwardly repeated to himself. If she dies, it will be my fault.
“It was my fault,” he concluded.
Emma placed a hand on his arm and looked at him, trying to be reassuring.
“Everything will be okay,” she said. After filling the forms and the report, she told Vance how to use the display to check on the surgery. She gave him a code and told him that when it was finished, a doctor would come out from the closed door to let him see Teresa.
A few hours passed. Vance got up every now and then to check Teresa’s status, but the display always said: In process. After three hours waiting patiently in the room, Vance started to grow impatient and angry. He got up and started pacing around.
After six hours, he was the only one left in the room, and he was going crazy with his thoughts as his only companions. The remains of the aftershock had faded, and all he was left with was anger and guilt. He was so furious at Teresa’s father that he was sure he could kill him if he saw him.
But the feeling of guilt was stronger: guilt of what he had done to her, all the lies and the deceiving, and guilt that he had pushed her over the edge. He started stopping every nurse that came into the room to ask about her status, but no one knew a damn thing.
“It’s been seven hours, and no one is telling me how she is!” he yelled, running a hand through his hair in frustration.
“I’m sorry, sir. I don’t know anything – but I will ask a doctor,” a nurse reassured him. Vance collapsed on one of the plastic chairs and rubbed his hand over his face, trying not to lose his temper again.
“Thank you, thank you very much,” he wh
ispered. The nurse left the room, and he was alone with his thoughts again. He went to the display and entered the code, which he had already memorized.
33503-L.
The display blinked, and his heart leaped in his chest: for the first time, instead of the same In process message that he had been seeing the last seven hours, the text on the screen had changed. Room 503. Surgery successful.
“YES!” He ran to the door and almost knocked over the last nurse he had seen on his way out. “Sorry, but the screen says...” He trailed off. The nurse was smiling at him.
“I know, I came to give you the good news. Your wife is stabilized and is in room 503. You can go see her, but she is not awake yet,” the nurse warned him. Vance nodded and tried to walk to the room as fast as possible.
Room 503.
He stopped in front of the door and took a deep breath. He did not know whether he was ready to face Teresa. He was terrified of what her reaction would be when she woke up. His hand trembled as he reached to grab the handle.
He opened it slowly: the room had dim lights, and the only sound that came through was the constant beeping of a machine and a mechanical, heavy breathing. The room was empty except for Teresa, who lay unconscious on the bed, surrounded by machines that monitored her status.
He looked at her and tears filled his eyes: she was catheterized, and tubes were coming out of her mouth and nose, enabling her to breathe. Her eyes were closed, and she looked pale. His breath hitched when he saw her head, all bandaged, and realized that they’d had to shave her head to perform the surgery.
He took a step towards her bed and fell to his knees, sobbing uncontrollably, and remained there.
Chapter 2
Vance
Morning found him sitting in the chair next to Teresa’s bed. He had ended up falling asleep, and he wished everything that had happened had been a nightmare, but when he opened his eyes and saw Teresa lying in bed, just as she was the previous night, his heart crumbled.
