Laced with Fear

by Hayley Faiman

  “Stop the blood flow, feed her something, and we’ll revisit her tomorrow,” I announce. “I want a brother on the door and a prospect at all times. Nobody is allowed inside unless me or Free is with them,” I state.

  “What happens next?” Crooner growls.

  “Next? Oh, when she’s a little more healed, I’ll let whoever wants to, fuck her ass. Maybe that will get her talking. Then, from there, I’m open to torture suggestions. We’re keeping her alive long enough to give us what we want. No more going off half-cocked, and killing the only person who has what we need. Right now, she’s our only source of information.”

  “You want her ass first?” Free asks.

  I smirk, thinking about what Ginger would say if she found out I fucked this dirty bitch’s ass. Chances are she’d try to cut my cock off before she kicked my ass out and divorced me. I shake my head. “Nah, I’m good. As VP, you get first crack.”

  He chuckles, and I watch as he runs his fingers through his hair. “Be a pleasure to stick my non-pure white cock inside of this cunt.”

  Fish patches her pussy up before we leave, and Crooner tells a prospect to get some broth and saltine crackers. She isn’t allowed anything else to eat, per my orders.

  Free is in charge, and nobody is given permission to touch her until she’s conscious again. Once she is, and she’s been fed, then I’ll come back down here and give her another chance to talk before Free fucks her ass.

  “You got this shit under control?” I ask Free as I walk toward the warehouse door.

  Free lifts his chin. “I got it all under control boss,” he grins. “Get her fed in a few hours, and let her sleep until morning. Probably call you early afternoon for round two,” he grins.

  Lifting my hand, I clap his shoulder. “Sounds good, brother,” I grunt.

  Leaving my men to handle business, I decide to head on home to my wife and baby. Right now, it’s the only place I want to be. Free has a handle on the club, and the missing merchandise has been dealt with, for now.

  There’s nothing pending that needs to be completed. I can finally rest easy, at least for a moment. Next week, I probably won’t feel the same, but for tonight I’m going to enjoy my life.

  GINGER

  Prescott walks through the door and I watch him. His eyes connect with mine, his legs swiftly closing the distance between us. He doesn’t say anything, and I hold my breath as he leans down, his lips brushing my forehead.

  “Need a shower, then I’ll make you some dinner,” he murmurs.

  I almost laugh, but I don’t. Looking directly into his pretty green gaze, I can tell that something is very wrong. I open my mouth to ask, but he just gives a firm shake of his head. My lips clamp closed, and I don’t say anything.

  My eyes stay glued to him as he walks away from me. I watch him walk up the stairs and disappear into our bedroom. Evalyn wiggles in my arms and I look down at her. I inhale a deep breath, something happened, but I know he won’t tell me about it. Maybe he will later, but judging by the look in his eyes, I’ll probably never know. Another secret of the lifestyle—one of millions.

  The secrets used to bother me, they would drive me crazy and I would imagine the worst of everything. However, now they don’t bother me too much.

  I trust Prescott.

  I love him, and he loves me.

  There is no way he would do anything to purposely hurt me. I feel as though we’ve been through too much to tear each other apart. We’ve been through hell and back, no way would either of us jeopardize that for an easy betrayal.

  “What do you want to eat?” he asks as he jogs down the stairs.

  He’s shirtless, wearing only a pair of sweatpants, and water drips from his now, short hair. I love it, every single piece of him. I wish that I felt well enough, and had the all clear, to show him just how sexy he is right now.

  Prescott chuckles. “Peaches, you better stop lookin’ at me like that, or I’m gonna think you’re ready to do something you ain’t ready for,” he grins with a wink.

  I make a squeaking noise as my back straightens, and my eyes widen, which only causes Prescott to break out into a huge smile. I watch as he leans forward and scoops Evalyn up in his arms. I swoon immediately, at the sight of him holding her tiny body against his bare chest.

  “Stay with her. I’m going to make dinner,” I whisper as I stand up.

  Prescott reaches out his arm, his fingers fisting in my hair at the nape of my neck as he lowers his forehead against my own. “Thank you, peaches,” he breathes.

  “For what?”

  “Giving me everything, Ginger. Thank you for giving me everything,” he rasps.

  I inhale deeply, feeling my heart almost explode inside of me at his words. I try to compose myself, but the tears stream down my cheeks immediately.

  This man, he’s been at my side when I thought that I didn’t want him there. He brought me back to life, and then he breathed life into me and gave me this beautiful baby that’s between us. He is our protector, but most importantly, he is the man that I love above all other men.

  This family means absolutely everything to me.

  I will fight alongside him, to keep us together and safe.

  Every single day of my life.

  EPILOGUE

  Two Months Later

  GINGER

  I push back, fucking him, hard and fast. My ass slams against his hips with each move I make. He groans as his fingers tighten around my hips and dig into my flesh. He thrusts his hips, meeting my own strokes, and it hurts, but damn, it feels so good all at the same time.

  “You close?” he growls.

  My fingers twist in the sheets below me, and I let out a mewling sound, unable to actually speak coherently. One of his hands leaves my hips and he slaps it against my ass, hard.

  I let out a long groan as my body climbs higher toward my release. “Fuck yeah, you’re close,” he groans from behind me. That same hand slips around my stomach and then I feel two fingers press against my clit.

  “More, give me more, peaches,” he demands.

  I fuck him faster, unable to control the movements of my own body. His cock inside of me, his fingers pressing against me—it’s all too much.

  My eyes slide closed and I slam against him one last time. I let out a long sob, my pussy clamping down around his cock as I come.

  His hand leaves my clit, only to wrap around my hip again. He slams into me, over and over, his speed and strength overwhelming with each thrust. Then I hear him groan behind me as he fills me with his release.

  “Fuck,” he grunts. Prescott’s body folds over and he presses his chest against my back. My arms give out a second later and I lie flat against the mattress, his heavy body against my back. “Missed this, peaches,” he sighs against my ear.

  The first couple of times we had sex after Evalyn was born, he had to be careful. It had not only been eight weeks, but I had stitches on my lower abdomen.

  It didn’t matter that the doctor said I was fine, I was still terrified that they would burst open at any wrong move. This is the first time I’ve felt comfortable enough to not only be in this position but be a bit rougher.

  I’ve missed this too.

  Prescott’s phone rings just as I hear Evalyn’s cry sound. “Well, that ends that,” he grumbles as he slips from my body.

  I slide out of bed, hurrying to the bathroom to clean up quickly. Snatching his t-shirt from earlier off of the floor, I slip it on as I make my way toward Evalyn. Her voice has been officially found, her lungs strong and almost ear piercing as I make my way into her bedroom.

  Reaching into her crib, I pull her out of bed. She whimpers as I hold her against my chest. She’s overly dramatic, and yet, adorable at it in every way.

  I change her diaper quickly, then make my way downstairs to make her a bottle. Prescott is only a few steps behind me and I hear his voice rumble into the phone. He walks into the kitchen and I hear him sigh.

  “What happened?” I ask as I
shift Evalyn around and slip the bottle’s nipple into her mouth.

  Turning around I notice that he’s completely dressed, and I frown. It’s after midnight. I can’t remember the last time he left at this hour unless there was a problem at the bar. It doesn’t happen often; my management team has been outstanding.

  “I need to get to the clubhouse, I’ll be home as soon as I can,” he murmurs, pressing his lips to my temple and his hand flat against my lower back.

  I know better than to ask the question that I want—can’t you wait until morning? He wouldn’t leave this house if he didn’t have to, I know that for certain.

  I let out a sigh and nod my head once. His lips touch my temple again as his hand drifts from my back to my ass and he gives me a rough squeeze. “Be home soon, peaches.”

  Without another word, he walks away from me. I watch him go, my heart full and happy. Granted I’m a bit worried he’s leaving at such an hour, but I try not to stress out about it. I finish feeding Evalyn before I take her back upstairs and gently lay her down for bed again.

  “Goodnight sweet girl,” I whisper, leaning over her crib and giving her a kiss on her soft cheek.

  I hurry back to bed, slipping between the sheets before I reach for my cell phone. There’s an unread text message from Prescott, and I open it immediately.

  Love you, peaches. Nothing to worry about, be home soon. Keep that pussy warm for me.

  I grin, happy that he knew I was a little worried and wants to reassure me. My dirty man.

  SNAKE

  Leaving Ginger and Evalyn in the middle of the night is fucking hell. I hate every single fucking part of it. When Free called me and said that the nurse was finally ready to talk, I knew that I had to go. I want to hear everything that she has to say, every single fucking word.

  Pulling into the clubhouse parking lot, I’m not surprised to see the entire club milling around the warehouse. Nobody is inside except Free, per my orders. Once I’m off of my bike, I swiftly walk over to the building, passing by all of my brothers.

  Motorhead, Crooner, and Fish are all standing near the door and I lift my chin for them to follow me inside.

  The nurse is still chained to her chair, her body swollen, bloody, and unrecognizable. She doesn’t even look human anymore, the thought of the fact that I did this to a woman should turn my stomach, but it doesn’t. She’s a monster protecting the devil and his troops.

  “Free says you’re finally ready to talk,” I bark.

  She lifts her head, her swollen shut eyes aimed at me but unable to open. “Kill me,” she whispers.

  “Oh, I’ll kill you all right. Once you tell me what I want to know, then you’ll die. Nothing has changed,” I state.

  “Please, kill me,” she blubbers.

  I bark out a laugh, the noise harsh to my own ears. Leaning closer, I growl. “Bitch, you’re dead already. Tell me what I want to know,” I hiss.

  “Compound. All children, women, and men. One hundred men. Five miles north of my hometown,” she says, her voice soft and weak. “Kill me.”

  It took eight weeks to break her. I’ve never known a person to hang on for so long. She was good to her cause, even if it was the wrong cause. She was a strong soldier for the Aryans. I have to respect at least that much about her.

  “You want another go at her ass?” I ask Free with a laugh.

  He grunts. “She not only looks like death, brother, she smells like death too. Plus, every guy’s been inside of her about a dozen times, I’m fuckin’ good.”

  He doesn’t lie. Not only did everyone except a few, have a go at her ass, they also took turns pissing on her open cuts as part of her torture later on.

  She’s been used as a punching bag, pissed on, fucked, and cut to shit. Yet, she held onto her knowledge, something so simple as five miles north of her small hometown, and a hundred soldiers.

  “There’s more she ain’t telling us,” I say, thinking aloud.

  Her swollen lips tip in a smile. “You’ll never know.”

  “I could keep you alive a bit longer,” I murmur.

  She lets out a raspy breath. “On death’s door. I’ll die, and you still won’t know.”

  “She’s not wrong,” Crooner grunts. I know it, too.

  This bitch is about two seconds from just dying without me ending her misery. We know more now than we ever have, the rest will be up to us to research on our own. Reaching into my waistband, I pull out my gun, cock it, point it at her head and pull the trigger.

  “Burn this cunt,” I growl. “Church at noon. I’m going home,” I announce.

  Leaving the room, I ignore everyone and head toward my bike.

  “Snake,” a voice calls out. I look back and find Motorhead behind me. “We’ll get them, we’ll take them all fucking down, Snake.”

  Lifting my chin, I give him a grin. “Fuck yeah, we will.”

  Straddling my bike, I start my engine and ride away. I head home. My home that is filled with my sweet baby, and my sexy as fuck wife.

  The Aryans are one step closer to meeting their demise, and I for one can’t fucking wait. Ginger deserves retribution for what was done to her, as does Hayden, Esme, and all the other women who were taken, raped, and killed.

  Fuck those goddamn bastards.

  The hunt is on and I for one plan on finishing what I’ve fucking started.

  They’re all going to be meeting the devil sooner rather than later.

  I can practically smell their blood already.

  LAYERED WITH RELIEF

  A CASH BAR SERIES SHORT STORY

  CHAPTER ONE

  ESME

  Motorhead watches me from across the bar. He’s always watching me. It should bother me, I know that it should, but it doesn’t. He rescued me, he and his Notorious Devils.

  Lucifer was just as his name depicted, the fucking devil. Just thinking about him makes my body tremble. I run my shaky fingers through my long dark hair and let out a breath.

  “You okay?” Traci asks from beside me.

  I jump slightly and tip my head to the side, looking at the woman. She’s been managing the bar since I started here. She’s hard as nails, but she’s fair, and she’s been really great to me. Her blonde hair is pulled up into a tight ponytail and her eyes are questioning as she gazes at me.

  “I’m okay,” I nod, giving her a fake smile. She shrugs then walks away.

  Turning my head back, I search for Motorhead. He’s gone from his spot and I frown in disappointment. I shouldn’t be anything but glad that he’s not sitting in his usual place staring at me, but I’m not.

  I like the way he looks at me as if I’m something fragile, important—special.

  I’ve never been that to a man before. I’ve only ever been, convenient, used—easily discarded. It feels different with Motorhead. I feel like I’m precious when I’m around him.

  “How about a beer, baby?” a voice asks from the other side of the bar.

  I jump slightly, startled by his question, and give him a tight smile as I lift my chin. I go about my duty, taking a cold glass out of the refrigerator, then filling it with beer that is on tap.

  Cash Bar isn’t like most bars. Ginger orders a beer of the week, and that’s all that is available on tap. Except for members of the Notorious Devils, there is a special refrigerator for just their drinks behind the bar. It was the way her uncle ran the place, and she hasn’t changed a thing about it.

  I hand the stranger his drink, then try to busy myself by wiping down the bar, and washing glasses.

  “So, how long you lived here? I’ve never seen you in town before,” the stranger murmurs.

  Glancing up, I notice that he’s focused on me. His focus is intense, in a way where the hairs on the back of my neck stand at attention, and a shiver runs down my spine.

  What I want to do is look around in a panic for Motorhead. However, I don’t. I keep my gaze level and steady, on the stranger, attempting to give none of my fearful emotions away. He tips his hea
d to the side and gives me a smirk.

  “I’ve been here a while,” I lie.

  His smirk turns into a wide smile and he shakes his head once. “Liar,” he whispers. “You were Lucifer’s toy. Just because he’s gone, don’t mean you’re free, Esme.”

  It takes everything inside of me to hold back the whimper that threatens to escape my body. I don’t recognize this man, but that doesn’t mean that he doesn’t know who I am. Obviously, he does.

  Lucifer’s evil ranged far and wide, as did his contacts. He reaches forward and runs a finger along the side of my face, then traces my lips with it.

  “You’re going to be fun to break in, that is if Lucifer didn’t already break you,” he rasps.

  “Take your hand off my woman,” Motorhead’s voice growls from behind the stranger.

  My eyes lift, and what I see shining back in his gaze is truly terrifying. He looks about ready to murder this man, by the rage that shines in his blue eyes I don’t think he’ll kill him swiftly, he’s going to make him suffer if he gets his way.

  “Motorhead,” I whisper.

  He doesn’t look at me or even acknowledge my existence. The only thing he is focused on is this stranger. I watch as the man stands from his place, turns around and looks directly across from Motorhead. They’re matched in height, but Motorhead has about fifty pounds of pure muscle on him.

  “She ain’t marked, and if she is, it wouldn’t be by you,” he spits.

  Motorhead growls, leaning forward he grinds out. “Who would she be marked by, then?” he asks.

  The man laughs, shaking his head before his spine straightens and his muscles bunch at his back. “You know who, Lucifer,” he murmurs.

  Motorhead shakes his head once, then spits on the bar’s cement floor. “Knew by the way you slithered up to the bar as soon as I walked out to take a call, that you were connected to that snake.”