Biker's Bride: A Bad Boy Romance (Demons MC)

by B. B. Hamel

  “Hello, girlie,” he said, and his voice was a high-pitched lisp. I winced at the sound, and realized I had never heard him say anything before. They were quiet when they tore through my apartment.

  He crouched down outside my cell, put the tray on the ground, and stared at me.

  “Are you going to push that in?” I asked, trying to avoid eye contact.

  “I haven’t decided yet.” He kept staring at me, the crazy smile not leaving his face. He put his hands on the bars and leaned his forehead against the metal, staring in at me.

  “What the fuck do you want?” I asked. Chills ran up my spine.

  “Nothing,” he said, and continued to stare. He was unnerving and eerie, the way he hardly spoke. He ran his eyes all over my body and I felt like there were cockroaches crawling all over me.

  “Leave me alone,” I said quietly.

  “I like you,” he responded. He stood up and unlocked my cage. I squirmed away from him as far as I could get, but he took two steps into the space and was inches away from me.

  “What do you want from me?” I asked again.

  He smiled in return, and then reached out to touch my hair. I flinched away and felt nauseous. He took a strand of my hair and smelled it, his gross breath washing over me. I shied away and tried to pretend like he didn’t exist.

  When he was done smelling my hair like a total animal, he reached out and touched my face. I grunted and moved away, but I was trapped in the back of the cell. He moved closer, and pressed his dirty thumb against my mouth. I felt his grimy nail part my lips and press up against my teeth.

  “Open,” he said. He continued to press his thumb against my mouth, but his face got angry.

  “Open,” he said again, and I parted my teeth. He slipped his slimy skin into my mouth. Before I could taste too much of his filth and his sweat, I bit down as hard as I could.

  He let out a loud scream and I forced my teeth down as hard as I could. He jerked back and tore his thumb from my mouth, and toppled backwards toward the exit. I moved fast, hopped to my feet, and started to hobble out of the cage.

  I don’t know what I was thinking. All I knew was that I had to escape, or at least try. I couldn’t be a doormat for Michael’s thugs to fuck with, no matter what. I didn’t get far though. My legs and hands were still tied together, and as soon as I cleared the cage’s doors, I tripped and fell over into a stack of liquor bottles. I tumbled to the floor and bottles rolled everywhere, making a loud noise of falling glass. I lay on my back, waiting for the inevitable. After a moment, he was back in my field of vision, looming over me and clutching his thumb.

  No matter what happened, I wouldn’t stop fighting. I wasn’t weak, and I wasn’t a doormat. I’d do whatever I had to do to survive.

  “That was bad,” he said.

  “Fuck you, pig.”

  He frowned. “That’s not nice.”

  He cocked his foot back like he was about to kick me, when suddenly the door upstairs opened.

  “What the fuck is going on down there?” I heard Michael yell down.

  The pig-faced asshole froze, a look of panic blooming across his face.

  “Nothing,” he called back.

  I heard the stairs flex under Michael’s weight as he walked down. He turned the corner and saw me, laying on the bottles, with the creepy pig standing over me.

  “What are you doing, Spud?” he asked.

  “Nothing,” Spud said. He clearly wasn’t bright.

  Michael advanced on Spud slowly. “What did I say to you?”

  “Leave the pretty girl alone.”

  “Yes, exactly. And what did you do?”

  He stared at Michael. “I didn’t leave her alone.”

  Michael shook his head sadly, inches away from Spud. “No, lad, you didn’t.”

  Out of nowhere, Michael’s fist smashed into Spud’s gut, doubling him over. Michael lifted his fists above his head and brought them down on the back of Spud’s head, knocking him to the ground. Spud groaned.

  “Sorry, lad, but you know the rules.” Michael kicked Spud hard in the ribs once, then twice, and stopped. He looked over at me, and I stared back at him, my eyes wide with fear.

  “And sorry to you too, lass. These animals can’t control themselves sometimes, not when they see a woman like you at least.”

  I didn’t respond. He moved over to me, grabbed my tied-up hands, and hauled me to my feet.

  “Not hurt, are we?”

  I mentally went over my body. My butt and back were a little bruised, not to mention I was starving, thirsty, terrified, and I was completely grossed out, but I was mostly fine. I shook my head in response to Michael.

  “Good then. He’s pretty harmless, honestly. Most of the time.” Michael moved me toward the cage, and gently pushed me in.

  “There you go now.” He pushed the tray in toward me. “Hope you like tuna.”

  “He put his thumb in my mouth,” I said stupidly. I didn’t know why, I said it, but it just came out of my mouth before I could stop myself. I didn’t understand why Michael was protecting me and hurting his own people for my sake.

  Michael nodded and seemed to understand. “I’m not a monster, but I have to work with them. He probably wouldn’t have gone any further.”

  I returned Michael’s gaze and, although I loathed him with every inch of my being, I was grateful. I believed him when he said he wasn’t a monster, or at least he wasn’t always one. I guessed the years of acting as the boss of a violent mob had warped and twisted him into the thing I saw that day.

  “Eat up. I’ll bring more later.” With that, he turned, and pulled Spud to his feet. Spud grunted and groaned.

  “Alright, lad, alright. Let’s get you upstairs,” Michael said, and the two of them walked back toward the stairs. I watched them go, and was amazed at how tender Michael was being toward Spud. They were both disgusting, evil humans, but I saw something deeper in him. The two of them went back up the steps and were gone.

  I hoped whatever humanity Michael had left was enough to keep him from killing me at the end of everything.

  More than that, I hoped that Rex would tear them all to pieces.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Nobody bothered me after that. I wasn’t sure what I liked better, the terrifying interactions or the slow monotony that was sitting alone in a cage for hours. I ate the food they gave me, I sat in the corner, and I waited. That was all I could do: pass the time.

  They brought me another meal awhile after the first one and the guy that slid it under the bars was a man I didn’t recognize. He didn’t answer me when I spoke to him and barely even looked at me. I guessed he heard about what Michael did to Spud.

  I fell asleep on the mattress eventually. There was nothing else I could do. I kept picturing Rex’s boot smashing through Michael’s head, but even that lost its charm after a few thousand iterations. There were only so many ways for Michael to die in my twisted imagination. After that, I tried to remember every time Rex touched my body, starting with the very first night in the bar’s bathroom. It was odd; the lowest point and one of the highest points of my life took place in the same bar.

  There were no dreams that night. I expected nightmares, but there was nothing. Only a soothing darkness, broken abruptly when Michael’s goon shoved another sandwich and more bottles of water under the bars of my cage.

  By midday the following afternoon, I smelled terrible and was almost twitching with boredom. I hadn’t heard anything more from Michael about Rex, and I could only assume that he was playing it safe. There was a completely irrational part of me that wanted Rex to smash in through the front door, guns blazing, and rescue me. But I knew that was the kind of bullshit you saw in movies. Our best chance was if he won the fight and forced Michael to let us both go free. I knew that no news was actually good news in that situation, but it was hard to see when I was stuck twiddling my thumbs.

  After my third meal of the day, I realized the fight had to be getting close. I w
as missing then for over a day, and I wondered if anyone but Rex even noticed. Probably not, I realized. The only person who checked in with me on any regular schedule was Amy, but she had no reason to worry if I was out of communication for a few days. Sometimes we didn’t talk for as long as a week, just for no other reason than we were busy. That was what happened as you got older. Even your closest friends drift. Sitting in that cell, reflecting on my life, I vowed to make sure Amy and I never completely lost touch with each other.

  I vowed a lot of things during my time in that cage, too. It was hard not to reflect on all of the mistakes I made throughout the years when I had nothing else to do but think. I ran through all of the people I’d wronged over the years, and promised myself I’d go visit my mother more often. My dad remained firmly on my blacklist, and no amount of torture or prison time could change that. My mother though, she was a different story. I never fully believed that she was in on my father’s scam, or even knew anything about it. She denied everything from the start, and always stuck to her story. The important things became clear when my life was in danger, and it turned out that my family was important to me, whatever was left of it at least.

  Most important of all, I realized that I wasn’t angry or upset with Rex. I didn’t blame him for what was happening to me, and if I could have gone back and done everything over, I wouldn’t have changed a thing. Well, maybe I wouldn’t have let him leave that first night in the bathroom, and again later on the Wharf. Other than that though, I regretted nothing. Ever since I had met Rex, my life was turned upside down, but I was happier. I had been drifting through my days, half there. But he made everything brighter and more alive. I couldn’t give that up, not for anything.

  Eventually, Michael’s people started to filter down the steps. They started to grab the boxes and the barrels and carried them out the back door. Nobody looked at me or said anything to me, and as far as they were concerned, I was invisible. I felt exposed in small sleeping clothes, dirty from wearing them for too long, but nobody seemed to care. I guessed everyone knew what happened with Spud. Or maybe they were afraid I’d bite their faces off.

  Soon, the basement was completely cleared out except for my cage. Once that was done, Michael approached me with a shit eating grin on his face.

  “Almost time for the big fight, lass.” He smiled down at me.

  “Are you letting me out?”

  “Yes, we are. Can’t have you sitting in a cage. Bad for morale.”

  He unlocked the door and opened it. I shuffled onto my feet and followed him out into the basement. When I was out, a few of his people emptied the space and pushed the cage itself further back into a corner.

  “What happens now?” I asked.

  “Now, you go to the bathroom and clean yourself up.” He grabbed my still-tied hands and dragged me up the stairs and into the women’s bathroom. I got a quick glance at the bar, and saw that it was empty.

  “Alright, change.” He nodded to a stack of clothes on the ground.

  “You expect me to wear this?”

  He laughed. “You look like shit. Clean yourself up and get changed.”

  I gave him a disgusted look. “I can’t with my hands and feet tied up.”

  He sighed and then started to untie me. The skin on my wrists and ankles was red and raw from chafing against the ropes for over a day, and it felt amazing to have free motion again. I almost broke down and cried right there on the spot, but I forced myself to stay strong.

  “Now, wash and dress.” He stood there, staring at me.

  “A little privacy?”

  He turned his back. “Best you’ll get. Make it fast.”

  I turned toward the sink and began to wash myself the best I could. I looked horrible: exhausted and dirty. I washed my face and my hands, and splashed water on my underarms. I pulled a basic black T-shirt from the pile of clothes and a pair of jean shorts that looked like they’d fit me. I pulled off my clothes, careful to make sure that Michael didn’t peek, and got changed. The stuff fit well enough, and I had to admit it was better than wearing what I had on before. For the first time since I had been kidnapped, I felt like a real human.

  “All done,” I said.

  He turned back to me. “You look radiant, darling.”

  “Fuck you.”

  He laughed then took me by the arm and dragged me back down the steps. More people were coming in now, and the basement had maybe fifteen men standing around in a loose circle.

  “Where’s your fighter?” I asked.

  “He’ll be here soon. Stand with Spud and Clutch and don’t move. If you’re good, they won’t bother you. If you’re not, I gave Spud permission to do whatever he wants.” He gave me a leery grin then pushed me toward the twin pigs. I walked over and leaned against the wall next to them, and they barely gave me a second glance. Michael nodded to them, and then disappeared back upstairs.

  I could sense the tension in the air almost immediately. People were hyped up, but also terrified. I guessed everyone knew how important the fight was, not just for Rex, but for the entire mob.

  Nobody paid any attention to me, which let me look around at the crowd freely. I didn’t recognize everyone, but they were all dangerous looking people. Plenty of baggy clothing and tattoos dominated the space, and people smoked freely. I noticed that they tended to group themselves in threes and fours, and the room was nearly split in half. I assumed they were the two main factions in Michael’s gang, and I noticed that I was standing on the slightly larger side. More people slowly filtered down the stairs until the room was packed save for a large circular space in the center.

  The noise was loud with laughter and cursing. People drank and smoked and joked, but nobody bothered to look at me. I realized I didn’t seem like a prisoner anymore. I guessed that they would look down on Michael keeping a girl in a cage for over a day, and that was why he let me out and had me clean myself up. I looked over at Spud and he grinned back. Chills ran down my spine when I realized he had been staring at me. I mentally promised myself that I could get revenge on him the first opportunity I found.

  I had no idea what time it was or how long we had been standing down there before Michael walked down the steps. The room quieted almost immediately. Michael was followed by a tall man with heavy muscles and thick tattoos running all along his body. He wore a tight white T-shirt and gym shorts, and his knuckles were wrapped in white linen. He wasn’t enormous or particularly dangerous looking, but I could tell by the way people reacted to him that he was a tough man. Everyone nodded and gave him respect as he passed, but he ignored everyone but Michael. They came over to where Spud, Clutch, and I stood, and I could hear them talking.

  “You need to kill him,” Michael said.

  “Yes,” the man replied.

  “Make it fast and dirty. Send a message.”

  “Okay.”

  “The more blood, the better I’ll pay you. Remember that.”

  “Okay.”

  They didn’t speak any more after that. I wasn’t surprised about what I had heard. The man started to move around and loosen himself up. I was terrified for Rex. This guy clearly was going to try and murder him, but I didn’t know if Rex would play by the same rules. I had never been to a fight like that in my entire life.

  Time passed slowly as Michael’s fighter moved around the ring, keeping himself loose. The way he stretched and shook his body made it clear how fast and dangerous he was. I had never seen a man so smooth and sure of himself, except for Rex. But where Rex had a lively smile and a sense of humor, this man was blank and dangerous. He said nothing and had no expression on his face at all. He was like a stone human, or a killing machine.

  I was also terrified that Rex wouldn’t show up. Nearly an hour passed, and he was nowhere to be seen. Michael kept looking back at me with this horrible smile, as if he was savoring what he would get to do to me if Rex never showed. I couldn’t imagine that he would run away at that point and leave me there with Michael, but it w
as starting to look like that was a possibility. I was done for if Rex didn’t come. He was already late, or at least I guessed he was, and people were beginning to get angry.

  I felt weak and trapped. I wanted to get out of that situation on my own, but I knew that I was surrounded on all sides by people bigger than I was. If Rex came, he would have his hands full trying to survive. I needed to find the strength to get myself out of the room in the end, and not rely on Rex saving the day. I looked at my two guards and as the crowd pulsed around us, I thought of a plan.

  Suddenly, the place started to quiet down. There was a creaking on the staircase, and Rex appeared, hobbling down the steps. He turned the corner and the crowd parted for him. My breath caught in my chest: he still looked injured, but there were no new bruises. He limped into the center of the ring, face grim and serious. He looked at me and I met his deep green eyes. I saw something pass over his expression, a kind of rage I’d never witnessed before, but it was quickly gone, and he looked away. I didn’t understand why he was limping, but I told myself I would trust him.

  “Well, well, well, he showed up,” Michael said loudly. The crowd suddenly broke into loud cheers, a roar of passion. The excitement level in the room jumped tenfold.

  Once the noise died down, Rex stepped into the center of the circle. He pulled off his tight dark blue shirt, and was wearing only loose, short gym shorts and light black sneakers. The muscles and tattoos rippled up his arms, and the bruises stood out clearly. He was moving slowly and sluggishly, although I knew that a day earlier he was moving fine. I wasn’t sure what was happening, and thought that maybe Michael’s men had attacked him again to soften him up for the fight.