Exposed: A Bad Boy Motorcycle Club Romance (Fury Riders MC)

by Sophia Gray

  Then, I met Onyx. He was a prospect with the club in those days, but he had been around long enough to show me the ropes. I trusted him from day one—he tried to be tough and hard, but I saw through him. He only acted that way because of the scars. He thought people would reject him, so if he rejected them first, he wouldn’t have to get hurt. I never told him that I knew, though.

  I couldn’t think of the club without thinking of him. The two were so closely wrapped up in each other for me. What made him do it? Was there ever a time I said something or did something he didn’t agree with? Yeah—that happened a lot. He was never afraid to tell me what he thought about my decisions, though. I didn’t think we had any secrets. In fact, when I was first named president, I asked him always to be brutally honest with me. I needed somebody to keep me grounded. He swore he would be that person.

  When did he stop? I couldn’t remember things changing. He had to be the best actor in the world, keeping me fooled the way he did.

  Then again, Lance had, too. I had thought he was loyal. Maybe I was the problem. Could I ever trust any of my men again? I reminded myself it didn’t matter. I wouldn’t have to worry about it for long once York had his way.

  The door opened like they had heard me thinking about them. They filed out one by one, two dozen of them. None of them would meet my eyes. The girls followed them out, and they looked at the floor, too.

  I was leaving them. It broke me up inside, thinking of handing them over to anybody else—especially York, who was barely a step up from human garbage. What would happen to them?

  Before any of them could speak, I took a deep breath. “I know Axel told you what’s happening. I know you think I’m crazy for thinking about this. I don’t see that I have a choice. I can’t leave her there. And he’ll kill her if I don’t go, believe it. York doesn’t make empty promises.”

  “We know,” Axel said, quietly.

  “I don’t know what this means for all of you. I’m sorry. This is the choice I have to make. Even if I stay here, he’s never gonna stop coming after us. How many more people have to die before he gets what he wants? I’m trying to think of you guys, too. But, in the end, I have to try to save Erica. I’m sorry. It’s what needs to happen.”

  “So that’s it, then? None of us gets a say? York moves into your spot and we go on like nothin’ happened?” Frankie looked livid, his face dark.

  “That’s what he wants. He’s got me cornered. I don’t know what else to do.” I stood, showing them the gun I had in my waistband. “I’m gonna do my best.” I would have to find some way to take him out. It was the only way I could think to protect Erica and the club at the same time.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Erica

  I had no idea how long I’d been there, tied to the chair in that stinking room. There was no way of telling time, and no windows without boards on them.

  I was exhausted, weak. I knew the intensity of my emotions wasn’t helping. I wondered how much longer it would take for somebody to come. I wasn’t sure anymore whether I wanted Vince to come, or if I wanted him to stay away. There was no winning.

  My shoulders burned and my wrists ached from the ropes. The rope around my ankles was so tight my feet were asleep. I must have been there for hours at that point. I’d started counting the seconds at one point, but the more seconds I counted, the more upset I got. It was easier in a way to let the time pass unmarked.

  There was a series of loud shouts from outside the door. I flinched. They were getting louder all the time. Probably the drunker they got.

  They could come in here whenever they wanted. The thought chilled my blood. Any of them, whenever the mood struck. It sounded like an entire football team was out there making noise, cheering, listening to music. I heard bottles smashing now and then. Were they killing each other? I hoped they were.

  The drunker they became, the larger my fear grew. Alexander might have been able to control them while they were sober, but when they were drunk? I knew it was only a matter of time before they got ideas in their heads. I didn’t hear any female voices out there. Pretty soon it wouldn’t be enough to throw each other around and break bottles. Their attention would turn to me. Tied to a chair. I remembered Alexander’s warning about what they did to girls with big mouths. A sob escaped my throat, muffled by the gag.

  I squeezed my eyes shut. Thinking like that would only make me panic again. I couldn’t do that. I didn’t even want to cry since I couldn’t wipe my eyes or my nose. The gag was soaked with tears already. Nobody had been in to check on me in a long time. I didn’t know if that was a good thing or a bad thing. I didn’t want to see any of them or give them the chance to be alone with me. I could have used more water, though, or a tissue.

  Then again, having one of them wipe my tears? Not tops on my list. Again, there was no way out that didn’t involve one of the Wolves getting way too close to me.

  I didn’t want Vince to hurry, but I did at the same time. I worried for him, but I worried for myself. Somebody had to come break this up, and fast. Every minute that ticked by pushed me one minute closer to the door opening and a dozen or more drunken bikers pouring in.

  My heart raced. My palms were sweaty. My breath came fast and shallow. I was losing it.

  Don’t. A voice in my head broke through the haze of panic. It’ll be all right. Control yourself. It sounded like Vince. I heard the commanding tone he took when he wanted his way. Even the thought of his voice made me feel a little better.

  I hoped my memory card was still intact in the laptop. At least I might achieve some measure of fame posthumously. The last pictures taken by the photographer. The ones that got her killed. People were just morbid enough to want to see them. I’d become an internet sensation. The poor little girl who went out one night, caught a murder on camera, and fell in with a gang of bikers.

  I remembered hearing a story from one of my aunts. She’d gone to school with a girl who was kidnapped by a biker gang not long after graduation. Her boyfriend or somebody was involved with them. They took her because they thought she stole from them—really, it was probably her boyfriend, but they had the wrong information. Her body parts were found all over the place afterward. A bolt of terror flashed through me. That would be me now. People would tell stories about me, saying they used to know me and wasn’t it a shame for an innocent person to go through something so terrible.

  Another bottle smashed on the floor just outside the door and I jumped. I was completely on edge, about to go overboard. It felt like they were deliberately screwing with me, though I knew I was probably the last thing on their minds. They thought they had won something against Vince and the club. From the looks of their headquarters, they didn’t get many wins.

  I closed my eyes, forcing myself to take deep breaths despite the urge to panic. I couldn’t do that to myself. I had to stay in control or else I might go crazy with fear.

  Breathe in…one, two, three, four…breathe out…one, two, three, four…The meditation class I took years before finally came in handy. I counted up and down, breathing along until my heartbeat calmed and my mind felt clearer. Everything would be all right.

  Then, I heard a loud crash from the room outside the door and I panicked all over again. This time, it sounded serious. There were shouts and loud popping noises. Gunshots? I froze in panic. Police? No, I didn’t hear any shouts that sounded like police commands.

  Vince? Had he come for me? He must have brought an entire army from the sound of it. Where was Alexander? I hoped Vince had blown his head off.

  The fighting went on for what felt like forever. It was torture not knowing what was happening thanks to the closed door. With every crash, I flinched. Furniture was breaking, bodies hitting walls. I thought I’d go crazy having to imagine what was happening.

  At the same time, I didn’t want to see. If Vince was there, and he had to be from the sounds of it, I would be too afraid to watch. My imagination was doing a good enough job filling in the blanks
for me.

  More crashes. Punches? Gunshots. I heard groans and screams and grunts. My eyes swept the room in a panic. What if a bullet came through the door? I couldn’t even duck. I threw my weight from one side to the other, rocking the chair back and forth, hoping I would fall to the side. It would hurt, but it would be safer that way.

  Then, the gunfire quieted. Somebody had won. Who was it? From the number of Wolves I’d heard partying, I was terrified that the Fury Riders were outnumbered. Even if Vince had brought every member of the club with him, he’d still be at a disadvantage. My heart was in my throat. The silence was more terrifying than the sound of fighting.

  My eyes were glued to the door. Slowly, the knob turned. I held my breath, my heart racing as the door swung open…to reveal Vince.

  Tears rolled down my cheeks. He was there! He’d saved me! And he looked fine, not a scratch on him. He rushed to my side, pulling the gag from my mouth.

  “Oh, God, did they hurt you?” he asked, touching my face, my hair.

  All I could do was shake my head. I was to overcome to speak.

  “We got them,” he said. “Everybody’s okay.” He bent to untie my ankles.

  “What about the Wolves?”

  “Most were shot. I don’t know yet how many we killed—I told the guys to take care of the rest of them for me. I had to find you. I’m getting you out of here.”

  “Please hurry.” I couldn’t stand being in there for another minute. I would need three showers, maybe four, to clean the filth from me.

  Vince worked on my wrists. “Hang on. Almost there.” When the ropes fell away, my arms fell to my sides. I nearly screamed the pain was so bad. I must have pulled both shoulders severely. My wrists were raw. I held them up, rubbing them gently. I shook them out, then shook my feet to get the blood flowing. It hurt, but I had to do it.

  I saw movement over Vince’s shoulder, through the doorway. Broken glass on the floor. A body. I averted my eyes after that. I didn’t need to know how they saved me, only that they had.

  “Come on,” he said, scooping me up in his arms. “I’m taking you to the clubhouse.” I didn’t care where we went, as long as we left that terrible place. I closed my eyes, finally able to rest my head against Vince’s chest. He cradled me like a baby as he walked me out into the fresh air. I breathed deeply, wanting to get the stench of garbage out of my nostrils.

  “Thank you,” I whispered over and over. “Thank you so much.”

  “I couldn’t leave you there,” he said. “It’s all over now.”

  All over. The words were music to my ears. I wanted to go to bed and sleep for days.

  He put me down only when we reached his bike, and I climbed on behind him. Sliding my arms around his waist, resting my cheek against his back—it was like heaven. I closed my eyes, wanting to leave the horror of that clubhouse behind me. I didn’t know how many Wolves were dead, and I didn’t care. They could all be dead as far as I was concerned.

  Before I knew it, we were at the Fury Riders’ clubhouse again. I could have kissed the ground. Without a word, Vince picked me up again and carried me upstairs. We went straight to the bathroom, where he turned on the shower. “We have to get you cleaned up first,” he said.

  I nodded, half asleep, half in shock. I was happy to let him take over for a while if it meant I wouldn’t have to think anymore. It had all been so surreal. Here, with him, was the only thing that mattered.

  I stepped under the hot water, letting it wash off the dirt and grime from the night. My shoulders were still so sore, but the heat helped ease them a little. I made a mental note to see if there was any ibuprofen anywhere. The rough lives they led, there had to be some sort of painkiller around.

  Vince got in behind me, but this time, there was nothing sexual about it. I had the vague sense that he wanted to make sure I didn’t pass out or hurt myself somehow. I let him wash me gently, tenderly. I thought more than once how wonderful he was. He acted like coming to my rescue was just another day at the office, nothing more. He had no idea what he’d done for me. Sure, he’d saved me physically, but he’d also given me something to believe it. I was his, forever. How could I want to be with anybody else after this?

  When he stood, after bending to wash my legs and feet, I leaned against him. I wanted to put my arms around his shoulders, but the pain wouldn’t let me. Instead, I put my hands on his chest. I felt his strong, sure heartbeat beneath my palm and closed my eyes. I’d never felt safer in my life.

  We didn’t need to speak. We understood what the other was thinking without using words. We stood under the spray, Vince gently stroking my back, for a long time. Eventually, his touch grew more demanding. At first, I thought there was no way I’d rouse to him. Not after everything I’d been through. Something about him changed my mind, however. He had that effect on me. Soon I was melting into him, sighing as his hand went lower and lower on every down stroke.

  Rather than take me there, as he had earlier, he stepped out of the shower and held out a hand for me. He wrapped me in a cozy towel before we walked to the bedroom together. There, he dried me carefully. I’d never felt so cherished in all my life. Who would have thought a man like him could be so tender? I lovingly ran my fingers through his dark, wet hair. His face was very serious. He wanted to be sure I was taken care of.

  Then, he sat on the bed and pulled me between his legs. For a moment, he sat with his arms around my waist, his head against my belly. I held him there, stroking the back of his head. Again, we didn’t need words to communicate everything we were feeling. I knew he had been afraid for me. He was relieved to have me back with him.

  Then his face turned toward my body, and his mouth grazed my skin. I came alive at his touch, the feeling of his lips on me. He skimmed my curves with the tips of his fingers, from shoulder to hip, leaving goosebumps in his wake.

  He grasped my hips, turning me, seating me on the bed. Then he lowered me back, leaning over me. I gave in easily, wanting him, needing the comfort of his arms after the nightmare of the day. He kissed me slowly, solemnly, driving away the fear and pain. All that was left was pleasure. He sucked my bottom lip between his, making me moan.

  His mouth traveled down my neck to my chest. I held his head in my hands, sighing, encouraging him to keep going. Now that he had lit my flame, I wanted him to burn me up with it. I wanted nothing but him. Wetness and an almost painful ache bloomed between my legs as he drove me higher with his lingering kisses to my breasts, stomach, navel.

  I writhed, arching my back when he worshiped me. But it wasn’t enough. I needed all of him.

  I spread my legs, inviting him inside. “Please…” I whispered, pulling him up toward me from where he lingered between my thighs. “I need you.”

  He crawled back up, lowering his body over mine. He was so strong, muscles bulging. He would kill anybody who came between the two of us. He’d already killed for me, I was sure. All the thought did was turn me on more, and I reached up to meet his lips with mine.

  I felt him pressing against me, and I reached down to guide him. He thrust forward slowly, almost achingly slow. I sighed with satisfaction when he was finally inside me.

  We made love. Every sound from him, every movement, was like joy blossoming inside me. I couldn’t get enough of him—his smell, his taste, the look in his eyes. I stared into them as he moved, brushing my mouth over his, smiling. This was it. All I would ever need.

  His thrusts grew stronger. I threw my head back and moaned, eyes closed, wishing it never had to end. Every time he connected with me, I cried out a little louder.

  I turned my head from side to side, unable to take the pleasure. It was almost unbearably sweet. I ran my hands over his arms, and he took one of my hands in his. He held it between our chests as he drove himself into me, slowly, gently.

  We sped up, moving together. My hips rose to meet his thrusts. He buried his face in my neck, groaning. The friction built and built. I pulled him closer with my legs, gripping him ti
ght. The tension in my core got bigger and tighter, and I moved closer to the edge…

  “Wake up!”

  I jumped, startled. My heart raced. I blinked hard, trying to get my bearings.

  Someone had their face up close to mine. “Shit, thought she was dead,” he muttered, laughing. The man behind him laughed, too.

  I shook my head, confused. Where was I? I’d just been…with Vince…

  No. My heart clenched, then broke. I’d just been dreaming. That was all. I was still tied up, still at the mercy of the Wolves. In particular, the man crouching in front of me. He was missing two teeth, and his breath reeked of booze and cigarettes. A tear rolled down my cheek. It had been a dream. Nobody came for me.

  “Alex would be pissed if she died on us,” he said, grinning. “Especially if we didn’t get a chance to have a little fun with her first.”