by Lilly Atlas
“Look at me, baby.”
She turned her head back to him, and he saw the stark fear in her wide chocolate eyes. “Do exactly what I tell you, got me? Keep your mouth shut at all times. I’m very serious. Do not say a word. These guys will not like a woman speaking up, so just don’t say anything. I don’t know what they want from me, but I’ll do everything I possibly can to get us out of this.”
“Striker.” She whimpered, her eyes glassy with unshed tears. The look of terror on her face killed him.
He placed a finger across her lips. “Mouth shut, baby. If they do get you, and something happens to me, you do whatever the hell you have to do to stay alive. Do not fight them. Do not give them lip. It will only make it worse for you. I promise you my brothers will come for you if the worst happens.”
Lila nodded, and swiped at a stray tear that escaped.
Damn, she would tough it out. Not many women he knew would swallow their fear and keep the panic hidden. He gave her a quick, hard kiss, grabbed her hand, and marched toward the waiting Grimm Brothers. Time to face the music.
“Snake,” he said to the other VP when he was close enough to be heard without yelling.
“Striker,” came the reply. “Pretty lady you got there.”
Striker clenched his jaw so hard he thought his teeth would crack. Snake was a sadistic bastard, and he knew the quickest way to fuck with Striker would be through his woman.
“You stopped me on the road to tell me my ol’ lady’s pretty? Coulda sent me a card.”
Snake laughed. “Nah, just trying to start the conversation on a friendly note. We got some business to discuss.”
Lila was frozen beside him. Her hand gripped his as though she could make this all disappear if she squeezed hard enough. He kept her positioned on his left side, a little bit behind him, to shield her as best he could while his right arm was free to go for his gun if necessary. Not that it would do him much good. It was six on one. He’d be shot dead more than once before he could inflict much damage.
“We already discussed business with Jackal. Made a deal, and left on pretty good terms. Our business is done.”
Snake shifted his eyes to Lila, and Striker swore she stopped breathing. Snake could intimidate the feathers off a bird.
“We’ve had some updates to our leadership since then. I’m gonna be making a few other changes as well.” His mouth curved up in a grin and he laughed. The sound made Striker’s blood ice over in his veins.
Striker had been ninety-nine percent certain Snake staged a coup, but hearing the man confirm was unnerving. “You really are a slimy asshole, aren’t you? You live up to your name well.”
Snake’s smile grew even more sinister. “Jackal got soft. I ain’t. A lot of our members agreed.” He shrugged.
A lot, but not all. That was the one thing the No Prisoners might be able to take advantage of.
Lila’s chest felt tight and she struggled to keep her breathing even, and not allow her body to quake with fear. She had to keep her shit together if there was any chance of helping Striker get them out of here in one piece, and she wasn’t about to do anything to make this worse for him. That thought alone allowed her to keep her cool and do as he asked.
Was this it? Was this what she could expect of her life if she stayed with Striker? Constant violence and fear? Lila had responsibilities. She was a respected physician. People in town depended on her to provide their medical care, and now to help keep their kids safe and free from injury. She could not run around with outlaws who acted like the life of others had no value.
Snake was a chilling man. Tall, well over six feet, with straight, jet black hair hanging to his shoulders, he towered over everyone on the road. A wicked scar ran diagonally from the middle of his forehead, down to his cheek. Running up the right side of his neck was a large tattoo of a snake’s head with its mouth open, fangs out, ready to strike. Lila couldn’t help but wonder how far down his body the snake extended.
What unnerved her the most were his eyes. They were so dark she wondered if he was wearing black contacts to make himself look more intimidating. If so, it had the desired effect. He gave the appearance of a soulless demon, and was not someone she wanted to spend any time alone with.
“Maybe we should have discussed business before you attacked my guy, and before you terrorized my woman.” Striker’s hand flexed in hers and she realized how hard she clung to it.
Snake exchanged a look with the man to his right. Lila didn’t know his name, but he was another daunting character. Short for a man, she guessed no more than five foot six, he looked like he’d blow over on a gusty day. Not a single hair grew from his head, and, combined with his pale skin, he reminded her of an egg. In looks he was the polar opposite of Snake, yet she had the impression he was just as deadly as the larger man.
No one said anything for a time, and Lila’s anxiety ramped up. The day was growing hotter by the second. Heat from the sun beat down on the group, and she felt a bead of sweat roll down her spine. Lila itched to glance over her shoulder and check whether the three men behind them had advanced forward. Not knowing how close they were made her feel vulnerable, as though they could grab her at any time, and she wouldn’t be prepared.
Snake ignored Striker’s comment, and crossed his arms over his massive chest which gave him the appearance of an impenetrable wall. “You have something of mine, and I want it back.”
“What the fuck are you talking about? I don’t have shit of yours.” Striker’s voice raised a notch at the accusation. He sounded confused. Was he really ignorant of Snake’s claim?
If possible, Snake’s eyes grew even colder. “You sure as fuck do, or at least one of you No Prisoners does. Two-fifty large of something that doesn’t belong to you.”
What? Two-hundred and fifty large? Lila didn’t have a clue what he was talking about. She remained at Striker’s side, a step behind him so she couldn’t see his face or get a read on what his thoughts were, but he seemed to follow the conversation better than she did.
“Come on, Snake, you’re wasting everyone’s time here. You know we ain’t in that business. Why the fuck are you sniffing around us for this? Check with one your junkies, they probably got greedy. Most aren’t known for making the best decisions.”
It clicked for her then, drugs. They were talking about drugs. Apparently Snake thought the No Prisoners had taken two-hundred-fifty-thousand dollars worth of drugs from the Grimms. That was a serious accusation, she knew people killed for less, and had no doubt these men would kill to get their product back. They were in some serious trouble.
This was so far out of Lila’s realm of experience. She felt beyond terrified just standing there, and wished she could do something. She never should have agreed to get involved with the MC. There were many qualities about Striker that Lila admired, but his lifestyle wasn’t something she could handle.
“Our warehouse was broken into, the prospect on watch was laid out, but not before he recognized a No Prisoners’ cut.”
Shit, that sounded pretty damning. Striker tensed beside her, probably thinking along the same line. The only hope they had was the knowledge that the Grimms wanted their drugs back. That meant they’d let them go so they could take the message back to the club. Right?
In the next instant Snake waved both hands in their direction, and the two men who flanked his sides moved toward them. Snake stared straight at her. “I think I’ll take something as collateral until I get my merchandise back.”
Oh my God, did they mean to take her with them? In one fluid motion that left her head spinning, Striker shoved her fully behind him, yanked out his gun and aimed it straight at Snake’s head.
The urge to cling to Striker, wrap her arms around him and bury her face between his shoulder blades was overwhelming, but she refused to have her presence cause any more trouble than it already did. She heard a few clicks behind her and it was a reflex to turn and look. The three men behind them hadn’t moved any closer, but
each of them had a serious-looking gun trained directly on Striker. Oh God.
“I suggest you lose the gun, Striker, unless you want the lovely Dr. Emerson to watch us end you, before we take her with us, that is.”
Anger poured off Striker in waves. He tossed his gun to the ground, far enough out of reach to satisfy Snake, and turned to her. No words were spoken, but she knew what he wanted to tell her. Do what they say, don’t make waves, stay alive. There was no way in hell she’d let him die trying to protect her. The next few moments were going to be critical to their mutual survival, so she gave him a slight nod to convey that she would follow his lead.
“Lila will take your message back to the club. You don’t need her. I’ll go with you while they investigate your claims.”
Snake laughed. Lila was getting sick of the maniacal sound. “Aww. Isn’t that sweet, boys?” He looked at his men. “Striker must really care for the good doctor. No, I think I’ll stick with my plan. Having her as my guest will keep you motivated.”
Still behind Striker, shielded by his body, Lila started to shake. Would they rush forward to grab her? Would they shoot Striker? She was afraid to move, didn’t want to draw any further attention her way though she knew her efforts were futile.
“Dr. Emerson, step out from behind Striker. Five steps to your right.”
Her breath came out in a whoosh of fear. “Fuck off,” was on the tip of her tongue but she held it back. Striker could be shot at any time, and they’d both be totally screwed.
So softly she almost didn’t hear it over the pounding of her heart Striker spoke. “Do it, baby. I promise I’ll get you out of this.”
The moment she stepped away, Snake’s men converged on Striker. One stopped about a foot away from his left side with a gun trained on Striker’s head while the other halted right in front of him. Without warning he slugged Striker once in the stomach followed immediately by a punch to the face. His eye swelled instantly and blood poured from his nose.
Doubled over, Striker swore viciously, but didn’t fight back. Why wasn’t he fighting them? He was a fighter, hell he was named for it, and he could probably flatten these two assholes in one second flat. Then it hit her, if the attention was on him, it was off her. He didn’t fight back because he couldn’t lose his focus on her and what was happening to her. He looked up, directly at her, and she felt sick to her stomach.
“Doctor, please join me over here.”
Lila shifted her gaze to meet Snake’s head on. She refused to cower in his presence no matter how much she quaked on the inside. It was as though she stared into a pool of nothing. No emotion registered in those black eyes, and he gave away no hint of what was to come.
She walked forward, until she stood about two feet from Snake. He wrapped a hand around her wrist and pulled her against his side. Tears filled her eyes, but she forced them away. When they made it out of this alive she could cry for days.
Striker’s rage was palpable, as though it was another person standing in the road with them. He would tear Snake apart at the first chance he got. He rose to his full height and diverted the attention back to himself.
“If you want to keep that hand, you’ll take it of her, motherfucker.” His voice was practically a snarl.
Snake removed his hand from her wrist, but placed an arm around her shoulders as he faced Striker.
Lila was so tense she feared she might snap under the weight of Snake’s arm.
Snake let out a short laugh. “I don’t think you’re exactly in the position to make demands, Striker. I am, however, and I want my shit back.”
Striker took a step forward from his position between the two Grimm Brothers. “If you’re right, and it was a No Prisoner, it was not club sanctioned. It was a lone wolf grab. I’ll find who did it. If this isn’t bullshit, I want the fucker as much as you do.”
Snake released her, and moved toward Striker. Relief at no longer being touched by him nearly buckled Lila’s knees. “I imagine you do. I want my product returned. You better pray it’s all accounted for. And I want the man responsible delivered to my club.”
Holy shit, would Striker agree to that? He would be signing a man’s death warrant for sure, and probably a horrible and painful death at that. As Lila looked on in horror, Striker nodded. “You’ll get him. He may be a bit dinged by the time he makes it to you, but you’ll get him.”
“You have until tonight. We’ll meet out near the abandoned mine off Route Forty. Midnight. You bring my shit, you’ll get your ol’ lady unharmed. You’re one minute late, or don’t deliver, well, let’s just say I’m without an ol’ lady of my own right now.”
Lila’s stomach rolled at Snake’s threat. She couldn’t meet Striker’s eyes. The fear and uncertainty was too great.
Snake mounted his bike then turned to Lila. “Hop on, Doc. Time’s a wastin’ and your man has shit to do.” He winked an emotionless eye at her. “Make sure you hold on real tight.”
Somehow Lila made her legs carry her to the bike, and she climbed on behind Snake. Her options were to hold onto him or to fall off, so she had to touch him at least a little. Her hands trembled and bile rose in her throat as she gripped Snake’s sides. She kept her torso as far back from him as she dared while keeping herself on the bike.
With a raise of his hand, Snake signaled to his men. All five of them lowered their weapons and returned to their bikes. Lila still didn’t look at Striker as Snake led the pack and rode out.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Goddamn it. This was Striker’s nightmare. This was the exact reason he never should have dirtied Lila with his hands. The very second the Grimm Brothers pulled away, Striker snatched his gun and hopped on his bike. He tore back toward the clubhouse. Most of the guys should still be there.
What the hell was he thinking, getting involved with her? Lila didn’t deserve any of this shit. She was the very essence of goodness, and in a few short weeks his life had stained her. Christ, there were countless people alive today because of Lila, because she used her skills and knowledge to save them. No wonder she looked at him with such revulsion when he agreed to hand over the thief. She was a healer, and he was a killer.
When he got her back, he wanted to wrap his arms around her, and hold her forever, so nothing could ever hurt her again. Then he wanted to strip her, and take his time loving every inch of her, erasing any memory of Snake’s touch from her mind. He wanted to watch as she came apart in his arms while he poured himself into her welcoming body.
What he needed to do, though, was distance himself before he poisoned her. Because of him she would spend over twelve hours with a sadistic son of a bitch. He assumed she’d be done with him, never want to speak to him again, and she’d be smart to walk away.
Striker made the thirty-minute trip in nineteen minutes. Dust and gravel flew across the lot as he came to a harsh stop in front of the clubhouse.
“Who the fuck is that?” Jester’s pissed off voice carried through the open doors of the garage bay.
As he killed the engine, Striker saw Jester stomp toward him.
“Striker? Why the hell are you tearing in here spraying shit all over? You’re the one who usually bitches at people for pulling that.”
Striker dismounted and jogged toward the clubhouse. “Need you inside. Now!”
“Jesus Christ, bro! What happened to your face?”
Striker hadn’t given much thought to the beating he took from Snake’s men. He glanced down at the blood splattered across his shirt. When he saw it, the pain in his face registered, but he ignored it. It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered beyond finding out who betrayed the club so he could get Lila back before the trauma of being Snake’s captive destroyed her.
“Do you need me to call Lila? Have her come check you out?” Jester increased his stride length to keep up with Striker.
“No I need you to get the fuck inside.”
“Striker your face is all busted up, at least go clean it off.”
“N
o time for that shit.” He ripped the door open, and stormed into the clubhouse. Shiv was at the bar with Hook and Acer who both jumped up when they caught sight of Striker’s battered face.
“Christ! What happened to you?” Shiv was the first to speak.
“My face doesn’t matter.”
“Sit, Striker.” Shiv tried to push him into a chair.
“I don’t need to sit.” Striker shook of his president’s hold.
“I wasn’t asking you.” This time Shiv was successful in shoving Striker to a chair. “Jester, grab him a wet towel to clean his ugly face. Acer, get him a drink.”
A moment later, a glass with an amber brown liquid appeared before him, the near full bottle next to it. “Drink it,” Shiv ordered. “Calm your shit down, and tell us what the fuck happened.”
He threw down the drink hoping it would help him get the words out. When Shiv held out the bottle to refill Strikers glass, he shook his head. If he was going to pull this off he needed all cylinders firing. “Lila and I were ambushed by six Grimms on the way to my house.”
“Fuck!” Shiv bit out. “Doc okay?”
Striker shook his head as he stared into the empty glass. Fear for her clogged his throat, and he felt tears fill his eyes for the first time since as far back as he could remember. “No. They took her.” His voice sounded rough.
“What?” Jester roared as he returned from the bathroom with a wet cloth. He shoved it in Striker’s hands and began pacing.
Striker used the warm towel to clean the blood off his face. The skin around his eye felt puffy, and throbbed with a sharp ache, but he ignored it. He could breathe without difficulty so his nose probably wasn’t broken. There were much bigger problems to tackle.
When he was done he tossed the towel under his chair. “Looks like Jackal is no longer in charge. Don’t know how it happened, but Snake is running the show now.”
Shiv paled a bit at that news. “What a fuckin’ mess. This blows our deal right out of the water.” He grabbed the bottle and took a long pull.
