FILLED: Berserkers MC

by Sophia Gray

  “Why would you do such terrible things?” she demanded angrily, the gun shaking in her tiny hands. “I…How could you leave me alone with Shawn? Did you know what he was going to do?”

  Logan had the decency to look ashamed, but it was hardly enough to cause any sympathy on my part. I hoped it wasn’t enough to sway Madeline, either. “What? No, of course not. How could I know? I just wanted to make sure you guys stayed put, was all.”

  “Stayed put?” Madeline demanded, incredulous and angry. “So, you told him to point a gun at me and make sure I didn’t go anywhere? What the hell is wrong with you?”

  He put his hands up higher, trying to show that he was no threat. But I knew better. He was dangerous and so was the silent, but ever present Joshua. I needed to get to them, now.

  “I’m sorry, Madeline, really,” Logan kept trying, taking tiny steps closer and closer to his sister. He was going to go for her gun, I knew it. “All this just got crazy and—”

  He reached for the gun at the same time that I shouted for Madeline to get away, to be careful. She jerked her attention towards me and that was when it all happened. Logan stole the gun from her grasp, yanking it away from her. To his credit, he didn’t whirl it back around on her and shoot, but what he did wasn’t much better. He stepped aside just as Joshua lunged for her.

  His hands went to her throat, locking around the long, delicate column. She barely even had the breath to get out a half a scream. She wrapped her tiny hands around his wrists, trying to pry him from her, but it was no use. She wasn’t strong enough.

  My vision blurred as terrible, sweeping anger raced through me. I wanted him dead. I wanted them both dead. I wanted to see Joshua bleed. I wanted to hear him whimper and plead and beg for his life, all the while knowing he wasn’t going to make it through the night.

  A roaring yell escaped my throat, unbidden, out of control, and I pulled my gun as I ran towards them. I shot Logan first, catching him in the gut before the little shit had the chance to run or fire back. He let out a cry of anguish that I relished in, before stumbling back and hitting the wall. There, he slumped down to the floor.

  The sudden shot was enough to distract Joshua long enough to pull away from Madeline. She scrambled back away from him, choking and wheezing, trying to pull in as much air into her lungs as humanly possible. Her eyes were watery and red rimmed, her neck bruised, and it only served to make me angrier.

  When I reached Joshua, there was no mercy. My fist connected with his face and that first blow had him reeling. It was the first of many. I hit him again and again. Sometimes with the butt of the gun, sometimes with my bare hands. I felt my knuckles split and bruise. I felt blood that was both mine and his splatter, drops hitting my cheeks and chin, tiny spots of rapidly cooling heat. And still I didn’t stop. When he began to slump beneath my anger, I grabbed him by the neck and collar, holding him up so I could continue my assault.

  It seemed like I had lost time. I couldn’t say how long I’d been hitting him, how badly I’d messed his face up. It was like Shawn all over again, but a thousand times worse.

  No one touches her, I thought, and finally, after a sickening crack that came from somewhere deep within his body, I let him go.

  He slumped in a bloody, mangled heap on the floor, near where Logan whimpered. Madeline’s brother bled from the wound in his gut, a wound that would eventually kill him. He was begging for his life, but these were meaningless sounds, meaningless pleas. Even if I would spare his life—which I wouldn’t, couldn’t after what I’d heard him agree to just earlier in that night—it wouldn’t matter. Short of some major surgery, he would die.

  No, all that was in store for him now was pain. Lots of it. It would be a mercy to kill him now.

  I wondered if Madeline would find it in her heart to see it that way.

  Turning to her, I reached out hesitantly, half expecting her to flinch away from me. I knew I had to look awful in her eyes. Blood, dirt, and bruises covering my face and hands, my shirt, my hair, my pants. I was covered in it. Filthy.

  But even as I reached for her with bloody, torn hands, she came to me. She ran to me, rushing into my waiting arms, sobbing and muttering incoherently. I clutched her to me tightly, ignoring the dead or dying bodies in the room, the moaning that still came from Logan’s lips and the wet, gurgling breaths that struggled to go into Joshua’s lungs.

  They were already dead to me, so instead I focused on the trembling beauty in my arms. At least she was still alive.

  “What are you doing here?” I demanded, my voice starting out soft, relief still coating my words. But it was growing in intensity, anger sparking. I told her to wait in the car. “How could you come in here and risk your life like that? Risk the baby’s life like that?”

  I heard Logan manage to get out a surprised, “Baby?” but neither myself nor Madeline was listening by then. We only had eyes for each other.

  She sobbed, coughing a little because of the way Joshua had tried so hard to strangle her. Something that would keep me angry with him for a very long time, dead or no. When she’d collected herself enough to speak, she let out a shuddering breath and told me, “I heard a shout, I thought—” She shook her head, clearly upset. I rubbed her shoulders comfortingly, not caring that two men were slumped nearby dying. I hoped they would suffer a little bit anyway before I finished the job. “I thought you were in trouble,” she finished finally and a strange feeling washed through me.

  Madeline had come because she had been worried about me.

  There was no question in my mind that I would save her from anything and everything I could. I would take on Mickey and Zackary and the whole lot of them if I had to, just to save Madeline. I hoped desperately that it would never come to that, but if it did, I would be ready. But it had never really occurred to me that, perhaps, the favor might be returned.

  I had it in my head for a while now that she belonged to me, even before I knew she was carrying my child, but that was a one-way street in my head. Yes, she was physically attracted to me. Yes, she wanted me. And yes, she had been relieved to find me alive. But how much of that translated to something more? How much of her relief at my being alive was because I saved her from being raped?

  My thoughts darkened as I remembered the way I’d found her, the way she’d screamed drawing my attention to her in the first place, and I shuddered. It had been terrifying and angering all at once, and part of me was still surprised I had let Shawn live.

  If I ever saw him again, I promised myself he wouldn’t. I would let him walk now because he wasn’t a threat to Madeline anymore. She was with me and there she would stay, but the moment I saw him again, that would be the last straw. He would be a dead man walking.

  “You came for me?” I repeated, my voice sounding strange even to my own ears. Joshua made a wheezing, choking sound that I ignored. He’d be gone soon enough.

  She wiped at her tears, and nodded. “Yes. I know you…you told me to hide. You told me to run away if you didn’t come back, but I…I don’t want to be without you now.” Biting her lip, she looked into my eyes, something intense flickering in her clear, watery blue irises. Finally, with a helpless breath, she said, “I love you, Nikolai. I love you and I’d do anything for you. I…I couldn’t—”

  She broke off again, but it didn’t matter. She’d said enough. Her words filled me, snaking their way into the deepest parts of my heart, wrapping them up and soothing them, making them hers. I belonged to her as much as she belonged to me now, and I couldn’t help but feel that was exactly how it should be. It was more than I had ever anticipated. More than I had ever dared to hope for, but here she was, her full breasts lightly pressed against me, her blue eyes daring to look into mine, her heart-shaped mouth quivering, slightly parted…

  Yes, it was exactly as it should be.

  Then I heard Logan whimper again, and I let out a sigh. This was the thing that had to be done and my only regret about it was that Madeline would have to be here as her br
other died. As I killed him.

  I hoped she could forgive me, could understand it was the thing that had to be done.

  Pulling her closer to me, I tucked her beneath my chin into the crook of my arm. Her head lay against my chest, her face turned away from the bodies that would soon stop breathing altogether. Holding her, I whispered softly, sweetly into her hair, “I’m sorry for this, Madeline, but it must be done.”

  I felt her tremble in my arms, but she didn’t protest as I lifted my right hand that still held the gun lightly. It was warm from being fired, the metal’s heat seeping into my skin. Madeline didn’t say anything as I aimed for her brother first, deciding to put him out of his misery—and to get rid of his continued moaning.

  I aimed for his head, both for the sake of mercy and because this was an execution. A bullet between the eyes was a message to all those who crossed Mickey: Don’t.

  I pulled the trigger and the shot rang out. Logan’s moaning stopped abruptly and I felt Madeline flinch in my arm, but she didn’t pull away. She didn’t even sob, though I sensed that she was likely crying.

  That was okay. I couldn’t deny her that, too.

  Next, I turned to Joshua. Part of me wished he would be conscious for this. That he would see me, the very last thing he would ever see, as I raised the gun to his head and got ready to pull the trigger.

  The rest of me didn’t care. I had made him suffer, made him bleed, and that was enough. Enough only because now he would be dead. Neither he, nor Logan, could ever hurt anyone ever again.

  I fired. Madeline flinched again. Then it was done, and we were left standing in the eerie, echoing silence of the place. I was aware of how much she’d been through tonight, and I commended her silently for her bravery. Lesser women would not have fared so well.

  She was strong, though, and it made me cling to her all the tighter.

  ***

  We drove back to the motel first. I was going to take her home, but acknowledged that there was cleanup to be taken care of. Mickey had guys for that, though I rarely required them. I was usually very clean, efficient, but this particular job had turned out to be messier and much more complicated than I ever could have predicted.

  Madeline dozed on and off during the drive. I had the heat turned up full blast, making sure she stayed as warm and as comfortable as possible. She’d been shivering as we left the warehouse, though it was impossible to say if it was due to cold or lingering aftershocks of her endeavor. It was likely the latter, I admitted to myself.

  I made a point to stop a couple of different times to allow her breaks—for the bathroom, to get drinks or snacks, or even just to walk around and stretch her legs—since we were so far from the city. She likely just wanted to go home, but there were things I had to take care of and I wanted to make sure she was comfortable anyway.

  We pulled into the driveway of the Market Town Inn. As far as I could tell, nothing had changed since the last time I’d been there. I peeked into the lobby and saw the same attendant was there, but now his head was tipped back, his magazine slipping off his lap, and his mouth hanging open. He was snoring, fast asleep.

  I shook my head, and ignored him. Madeline followed close behind me as I made my way down the row of doors towards Room #102 where I’d left Shawn tied up and gagged.

  I had told her to wait in the car, but she’d protested. She said she didn’t want to leave me alone, but I sensed it was that she didn’t want to be left alone. She wasn’t thrilled with being in this place, and was probably even less thrilled with finding Shawn. I couldn’t blame her, and I wouldn’t tell her I’d wanted her to stay so I could put a bullet between his eyes, too.

  There had been a lot of bloodshed tonight and I didn’t want her to see any more. So with her at my side, I wasn’t sure I’d go through with it, but it turned out that it didn’t matter what my decision would have been.

  When we reached the room, we saw the door was hanging open again, still attached by only one hinge. I’d closed it—as best I could anyway—and the fact that it was open again meant someone had been in there. Motioning for Madeline to be quiet, I stepped into the room, searching the place.

  The bathroom door was open and I could see already Shawn was gone.

  The gag lay on the floor next to the cord I’d used to tie him up. I sighed a little in disappointment, but found myself not too concerned with the whole thing. He wouldn’t be back. Not ever. And if he did show up, well, I’d just kill him like I should have before.

  “He’s gone,” Madeline whispered, and I couldn’t tell if there was fright or relief in her voice. Maybe she knew what my intentions had been the entire time.

  I put my arms around her shoulders and held her close. “It’s all right. He won’t be back. He’ll never show his face in the city again, not so long as I’m there.”

  She said nothing after that, just let me hold her.

  Chapter 33

  Madeline

  It was only another hour’s drive back to the city, plus a little extra to get to Nikolai’s apartment. I would have maybe argued about going to his place instead of mine, but I was exhausted. It had been a long night, a long day, and a long week before that. Besides, if I were really being honest with myself, I didn’t want to argue.

  I wanted to go home with him.

  But as we headed towards his apartment, pulling into a lower level garage beneath the building, I found a little bit of dread and sadness working its way through me. I didn’t just want to come home with Nikolai tonight; I wanted to go home with him every night. I wanted more from him than just a one-night stand, and I was sure I had made myself pretty clear about that.

  I had told him I loved him, more than anything, and while he’d been sweet and held me—even as he killed Joshua and my brother—he hadn’t returned the sentiment. That knowledge burned inside me, twisting my insides, torturing me.

  I didn’t know what I would do when he tried to let me down gently, told me that, while he clearly wanted something to do with the baby, he didn’t feel that way about me.

  He parked his car and I let out a sigh of relief. I was ready to be out of the car and into bed. I closed my eyes for a moment, leaning my head back against the leather interior, just taking a moment to breathe in and out. A moment later, my door opened, Nikolai holding it and offering me his free hand.

  I blinked at him, but offered a shy smile as I let him help me up out of the car. Still holding my hand, he took me to the elevator that led to his floor. On the ride up, he kept his arm around me protectively—or possessively? —until the elevator dinged and the doors opened. Then he escorted me inside.

  Plopping me down on the comfortable couch, I thought I could sleep right then and there. As though sensing my thoughts, Nikolai told me, “Don’t go to sleep, not yet. We need to get you checked out, make sure you’re all right. Then you can lay down.”

  Though it was difficult, I forced myself to stay seated up right, waiting for him as he headed into the bathroom. My mind flashed to when he’d taken me in the shower. I’d still been a little sore from our first time together—my first time ever—but I’d relished his touch, been eager for it even. He’d been both demanding and sweetly tender.

  I didn’t know sex would feel like that, both rough and soft at the same time.

  Nikolai came back with peroxide, bandages, an ice pack, and a glass of water along with two little white pills. I eyed them suspiciously, but he only smirked at me.

  “Aspirin,” he explained.

  I laughed a little at myself, then remembered again how my throat was sore and scratchy. I gingerly touched my neck, wincing as I imagined how bad it must look. How there were probably marks where Joshua had tried to choke me.

  Nikolai’s eyes turned dark. “The aspirin will help. Here.”

  He gave me the water and the pills, and I swallowed, though it was difficult going down. Still, I knew he was right.

  “I’ll make you some tea in a little bit. The water’s boiling now. It’
ll help with the soreness.”

  Before I could tell him I was fine or even try to protest, he fixed me with a pointed look as though letting me know that he wouldn’t take no for an answer. Not on this. So, I remained silent and did as he said.

  Using a cotton ball and peroxide, he cleaned up the small cuts I’d managed to get throughout the night. Mostly from my struggle with Shawn, I was sure, but I didn’t want to think about that. I looked down at my lap, my face burning. It had been a lot to take in and I wasn’t sure how I was going to cope when Nikolai was out of my life.

  When he finished, putting up the peroxide and the cotton balls, the teakettle whistled. He went up to get it and I knew it was time for me to go. He’d been so kind to me, but I couldn’t take this, not his sweetness and then him breaking my heart. It would just make it hurt all the more.

  So, I stood. I made it halfway to the door, telling him, “I should probably go. I’ll call a cab and—”