Captive: A Devil's Spawn MC Novel

by Natasha Thomas

  My problem was that I was scared shitless she’d see through my explanations, still am, and that she’d see straight to the heart of what my issues are, what I really felt for her. In the end what I did, I did for reasons of self-preservation, to save myself the trouble of explaining to the one woman who sees past my bullshit that I don’t want her, because let’s face it, I do. I want her so much it physically hurts, and Adelyn is nothing if not insightful, she’d know it too. She picks up on every nuance of peoples’ behaviour, reads their facial expressions, their body language in seconds, and she’s fucking spot on with her insights. It’s something I noticed within days of taking her on at the shop. I can only assume her sizing people up because second nature based on the situations she found herself in when she was in foster care.

  Realising I’d drifted off to thoughts of Adelyn, again, I’m bought back to the present by an infuriated Boss.

  “Are you listening to a goddamned word I’ve said motherfucker?” I don’t answer because honestly I don’t think he’ll want to know I was just thinking about sinking balls deep into a woman that’s akin to his sister. “Yeah, didn’t think so asshole, so I’ll repeat that shit so you get me this time. I fucking said, get your ass up, and over to Ade’s house fucking now. Somethings wrong and I’m still an hour out.”

  My brain seems to have had a minor malfunction because I’m sure he just said something’s wrong with Adelyn, but I can’t hear over of the roaring sound of blood in my ears.

  “What? What the fuck’s wrong?” I know I sound like a pussy right now, voice shaking and shit, but that doesn’t change the fact that adrenaline thick and fierce is running through my veins catapulting me out of bed faster than ever before.

  “Jesus Christ, Reaper. Are you fucking with me? I said something’s wrong with my girl, and I’m an hour out. Been on the road for an hour and a half now, got Diesel and Fury with me. She called about an hour and forty-five ago telling me I needed to get down there. I’ve got no clue what the fuck is going on, and she told me she was safe at home, she’d lock up tight. It’s not that I don’t trust she will lock that fucking house down like no mans’ business, but I want someone on her till we get there. You’re that someone, so move your ass and for fucks sake call me if you get there, and shit’s not right.”

  There were so many things wrong with that statement I don’t know where to begin, so like any biker I zone in on the one that set my blood to boiling point.

  “She’s not your fucking girl, so watch it yeah? I’m on my bike in five, but when you get here you and I are gonna have us a little chat.”

  Not a time for chuckling, but the bastard does anyway.

  “Yeah, I think you’re right about that, been a long time coming too. You make sure she’s safe, and not a hair on her head is harmed, and I’ll sit down and have that chat with you, with the promise I won’t fucking kill you before you can say your piece.” And with that he hangs up not giving me a chance to tell him to fuck off, that he’d never stand a chance to put a bullet in me before I took his ass out. It’s true too. There’s no way I’d let Jackson ‘Boss’ Car best me in this century, or the next. Call it pride, call me cocky, but no matter what you call it I know there isn’t a man that’d be able to take me down unless I allowed it. And in the case of Adelyn, I wouldn’t be allowing any man to best me.

  I’m dressed in seconds. On my bike in less than two minutes. And pulling into her driveway in just over ten. I hate that she called Boss first. I hate that she didn’t feel comfortable enough to come to me. But what I hate the most is that I haven’t been here to protect her. That my issues got in the way a-fucking-gain.

  The day after making love to Adelyn I broke off all ties with Beth. It wasn’t nice. It wasn’t pretty. And it sure as shit didn’t end in us remaining friends. Not that I would’ve wanted to, the chick is batshit crazy, a stage five clinger to begin with. The last thing I need is for a woman I’ve had my dick in to still be any part of my life.

  To punctuate my point, the morning after the most mind-blowing sex of my life, I walked into my house to find an underwear only clad Beth passed out on my couch. Now where most of my brothers would be all over that in seconds, it served to do nothing aside from piss me the fuck off.

  “What the fuck are you doing in my house,” I bark, shaking her shoulder to wake her ass up.

  Startling, and almost rolling off the couch Beth sits up glaring daggers at me.

  “Where were you? You said you’d come over last night?”

  I don’t know where she get this shit from. I never said I’d see her last night, or any night before that. I tell her I’ll drop in if I can, if I want to. I don’t promise women things I can’t deliver on, hence never promising her a damn thing.

  “Never said that, Beth. Told you I’d be over if my bike bought me that way, and I didn’t. So answer the fucking question, what the fuck are you doing here dressed like that,” I ask gesturing to her attire, or lack thereof.

  Raising one overly plucked brow at me she runs her hand down her taut stomach, in what she probably believes is a provocative move. It’s not. I know what sexy is now. Truly sexy, not the pretend bullshit Beth’s trying to pull. The real honest to God underrated, natural sexiness that Adelyn possesses is more of a turn on than this will ever be. And in that moment I find myself wondering what in the hell I ever saw in Beth.

  Beth walks toward me with an over emphasised sway of her hips still trailing her fingertips over her skin. A week ago my cock would’ve stood up and taken notice, now he’s fucking shrivelling by the second, trying to retreat into my abdomen in disgust.

  “You like it? I bought it especially for you.” Her voice is low, and again what she assumes is sensual. The sound grates on me, make me want to kick her ass out, dressed like that or not.

  Perusing her lingerie I can’t find a single thing about it redeeming. Where she’s wearing a black lace bra and thong, garters and matching sheer stockings with lace tops, I find my mind wandering to the hot pink satin with lace trim, and boy-short panties Adelyn was wearing last night. The way they contrasted against her perfect pale skin. The way they cupped her gorgeous heart shaped ass, and the bra framed her tits for my viewing pleasure. Granted they hadn’t stayed on long, but while they were I appreciated every second of how good they looked on her desperate to see what other colours she owned.

  Focusing on the here and now is going to be difficult. Fuck that, it’s going to be nearly impossible. The images of Adelyn and her lingerie covered body, her mouth sighing my name, and the feel of her pussy around my cock is distracting me from doing what I need to, what I should’ve done months ago. Shaking my head free of the images assaulting me I say,

  “You get that I’ve got grandbabies yeah? I could’ve come home with either one of them, and they’d get an eyeful of what you’re wearing, better yet, what you’re not wearing. That shit isn’t on. It’s also why you don’t have a fucking key Beth. You and I aren’t like that, you know it, and I know it. What I don’t know though is why you thought it was okay to break into my fucking house, and lay yourself out like a desert buffet.”

  “Are you fucking kidding me?” She screeches. “Since when do you turn down a willing woman, and why are you pissed about this? I didn’t break in either. Steel was leaving when I got here, he let me in when I told him I was waiting for you. Unlike you, he didn’t want me waiting out in the cold for you to get home at God knows when.” That reminds me I’ll need to have a little chat with my son about letting bitches into my house. I know why he was here, Cal left his blanket here the night before, and the little kid couldn’t sleep without it apparently. That shit didn’t matter right now though, him letting Beth in did.

  “I don’t give a fuck if my boy let you in, you shouldn’t have been here for him to do it in the first place. And you’re right, I don’t usually turn down wet, warm pussy, but as of now I am. We’re done, Beth. This shit is over with.” If I thought that’d be the end of it I was dead wrong. Lucky
for me I’m not stupid. I knew she wouldn’t let it go at that. The only woman in the history of all women that let something drop so easily was Adelyn, and she was a complete anomaly.

  Beth looks at me in utter disbelief.

  “If this is about me being here this morning I’ll go. We can just forget about me being here, and go back to normal. Don’t throw us away because of some silly misunderstanding, Max.”

  Is she for fucking real? Not only does she know that invading my space isn’t some ‘silly misunderstanding’ as she puts it, it’s a fucking violation of my privacy. I don’t let women into my home, the only home my son’s ever known, and the only place that’s all mine. Beth also knows not to call me by my given name. That’s something reserved for my family only. Well my family, and Adelyn. Adelyn can moan, scream, or whisper my given name any time she like. In fact I encourage it. I fucking damn near demand it.

  Snarling at her I spit out,

  “This isn’t about that, and you don’t get to call me anything but Reaper. Never invited you to call me anything else, and I never will. This is about you not getting the picture when I told you this shit was casual. You wanted to push it. You wanted to classify us as something we’re not, and I let you. That was my mistake. But this, you coming here, think I’d want you to be in my space, in my home without permission just proves you don’t know a fucking thing about me. I fucking told you I don’t do relationships, and you wouldn’t be the one to change that. I told you when we were done I’d tell you, and there wouldn’t be a discussion about it. You want to take this somewhere else in your mind, then that’s on you, not me. Now get your shit, and get the fuck out.” It was harsh, but it was the truth.

  Since the beginning I’d been upfront with Beth. I’d warned her this wouldn’t go anywhere, but did she listen? No. Like usual with women around the club, they make more out of a situation than there is, and then act like their feelings are hurt or some shit. I don’t get it, I really don’t. A guy tells you he wants to fuck you. He uses your body, gives you pleasure, and sends you on your way, what is there to get upset about? Both of you had a good time, the end, right? Wrong. This is what you get, and this is why men are inherently stupid when it comes to the opposite sex. We think this time will be different when the truth is, this time it’s just a different woman. Nothing more.

  Stomping through my lounge room Beth dresses furiously, so much so you can practically see the steam coming out of her ears. When she done she makes her way to me, and as her parting gesture she slaps me soundly across the face. I’ll let her have that one because she’s pissed, and because I can’t be fucked to deal with anymore drama if I pull her up on it. I just want this done. Over. Finished. I want her out of my house, and out of my life.

  “You are a fucking asshole, Reaper. And mark my words, I’ll make you regret humiliating me like this.”

  Slamming the door behind her Beth walks out leaving me holding back a laugh at her threat. If I took her seriously I would’ve warned her against making an error in judgement threatening me, but the truth is I couldn’t care less, and there’s not a damn thing she could do that would be any worse than anything I’ve already suffered through…Or so I thought.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Adelyn

  How – The Cranberries

  I may not have thought through the ramifications of calling Boss this morning, and in hindsight it was a colossal fuck up on my part. The last person I want to explain the mess I’ve found myself in is Boss. Okay, maybe not the last because that honour would most definitely go to Emily, but he’s high up on the list of people that will shit a brick when he finds out. Not only that, but there is someone I should have spoken to before I made my impulsive, out of character phone call, but that too was not one I was ready or felt able to make.

  Four weeks is a long time to bite your tongue when you want to spit fire at someone. When you want nothing more than to tell them you hope they get anally violated by a big black man that calls them bitch, and pulls their hair. Now before you get the wrong idea, I’m not usually a violent person, sure, like anyone else I have the occasionally homicidal thought, more often than not whilst driving, but on the whole I’m actually pretty passive.

  In saying that, I’m not a push over. I won’t be bullied. I won’t lay down and take a beating like a good little dog. And I sure as hell will not be used as anyone’s verbal punching bag again. All-in-all you could say that the long fuse I pride myself on has finally reached its end, and lucky Reaper is the one that’s going to be front and centre for the explosion.

  This however is the least of my immediate concerns. First on the list is the three angry bikers that will be barging into my house in less than an hour. Albeit invited, because I’m an idiot, they’ll be demanding answers as soon as they set foot in the door. When they have them the next concern is a crapshoot, it could go one of two ways as far as I see it. Either Diesel will call his mom, Emily, immediately throwing me directly under a very pissed off bus, or I’ll be left to talk down three huge, testosterone laden bikers that will want to tear someone apart with their bare hands. I’m hoping it’s one of those two options, and not both because I can only handle one thing at a time. And if they distract me with having to talk Emily down it will leave them free to go after their number one target, and that will not be pretty. Actually I can imagine it will be downright scary.

  But scary is the name of the game, and my final concern, which is what the hell am I going to do now is gradually making its way up the list to number one, consuming everything else in its path. What is the problem you ask?

  Simple. I, Adelyn Pippa London, am a fucking moron. I was more worried about getting the man I’ve fantasised about, dreamed of, and coveted in my bed than telling him it was essential to wrap his junk. Yes, you heard me right. I didn’t insist on using condoms, and to be honest I was too wrapped up in the moment to consider the consequences of being so foolish.

  I didn’t just forget to consider the risks involved that he might have some disease from one of the numerous whores he’s slept with, but I didn’t stop, even for a second to remember that I’m not on any form of contraception. I haven’t ever needed it, and I certainly wasn’t something that I planned to happen even if I’d been considering taking a man, that man being Reaper, to my bed for some time.

  I don’t have sex. I haven’t since the last time I was forced against my will to spread my legs for a man, and that was fifteen years ago. A lot of people would tell me I was crazy for allowing that to be my only memory of intimacy with a man, but in my case it wasn’t planned. It wasn’t something I thought out. It just happened that way, and in some respect I’m glad that it had because if it hadn’t Reaper wouldn’t have been the new memory I made, and that’d be a damn shame.

  I’m sure that coming into this with the history I have, all of which is bad, no horrible, anyone could have shown me what it is like to be treated gently, with patience, and care. They could’ve shown me what it felt like to have a man’s hands on my body I actually wanted there, not ones that grabbed me roughly, and punished me. More than likely other me could have shown me what pleasure, real pleasure feels like, but it wasn’t any man that did those things. It was Reaper, and that was both a mistake, and a blessing.

  A mistake because I can’t get the feel of his rough, calloused palms out of my head. The way he watched me intently, making sure I was focused on him, what he was doing to me, what he was making me feel. It was a mistake because I want him like that again, not just for a night, but for longer, much long. Like forever. And that’s just not an option. Reaper isn’t a man that wants, or should be tied down. You can see it in his eyes. In the way he holds himself, ready to run at a moments noticed. And you know he doesn’t want to become too attached to anything because he doesn’t welcome many people, if anyone other than his son Steel and his family, into his life.

  I wouldn’t tie a man like Reaper down even without those reasons. He’s lived so much of his life for the job
with the FBI, for the club, which he’s still doing, and for his son. He needs time to live for himself, which is why I didn’t share my news with him. And it is my news, not his. He didn’t consider the consequences either, and he sure as shit hasn’t mentioned a word about that night in the last four weeks either, so as far as I’m concerned it makes it my news, and my news alone. Some might think I’m selfish, that I should give him a choice, a say in what I do now, but I can’t bring myself to contemplate what I’d do if he told me to get rid of my baby. It would break me in a way that would be so permanent I don’ think there would be anything to resurrect me from that pain.

  There is only one thing I want from life, one. For as long as I can remember, so I would have been about four-years-old I’ve wanted a baby, a family of my own. Someone to love with everything in me. It’s something I need. Something I desire above everything else. It might be wrong to bring a little person into the world with such a great responsibility hanging over its little head already, but in all reality doesn’t every mother want to be loved unconditionally.

  I didn’t go out to get pregnant on purpose. I didn’t not demand Reaper put a condom on so that I could trick him into knocking me up. No, it was a simple twist of fate that it happened to be the right time of the month, and that my first experience with a man, since the sadistic fuck that was merely an excuse for a man I escaped, happened to be with Reaper, the only man that could be less inclined to be a father all over again was the one that made my dream come true. Hence the blessing part of my dilemma.