WRAITH (Iron Kings MC, #1)

by Franca Storm

  I was determined to live my own life. My dad had already screwed with it for long enough as it was. His influence had raged out of control after we’d lost my mom. It had reached the point where I hadn’t even been able to date. As soon as I’d taken an interest in someone, one of his club members had inexplicably been there threatening the object of my affections. Of course, after being threatened by some scary-ass bikers, the guy had scurried away and never risked looking my way again. It was the reason I was so awkward around anyone I took a liking to now. I didn’t know how the hell to flirt, or anything. Hell, I wasn’t just a little inexperienced. I was a fucking virgin. A virgin at twenty-three years old? It hadn’t helped that since I’d moved away, work had been the only thing on my mind. If I went back home, I wouldn’t be able to breathe and I’d be a virgin until the day I died.

  I stuffed my phone back into my jeans and returned to working on my stencil.

  I was so excited about it. The client wanted a three-dimensional mechanical arm, the design to be near-impossible to distinguish from the real thing. Three-dimensional designs were all the rage at the moment and I’d been dying to snag the chance of creating one. So far, it was going really well. It was definitely one of my best creations.

  I was almost done with the first draft when rowdy shouts coming from the waiting room had me jerking my head up. What the hell was going on?

  I heard Lucinda’s shrill cries from the Reception desk, two low growling voices giving commands that were unintelligible through the walls separating us. No one else was on shift tonight. Just us two girls.

  I had to do something. I couldn’t leave her to face whatever was happening out there all by herself.

  I shot to my feet, ready to tear into the Reception area when the door flew open, shocking the shit out of me.

  I jerked back as two huge steroid-abusing hulks burst into my studio room.

  One of them kicked the door shut so violently that the room shook from the impact.

  “What do you think you’re doing?” I demanded. “If you think you can just burst in—”

  A sharp slap to the face had my head snapping to the side. Groaning at the bitch of a sting, I stumbled back, falling into the wall, and grasping at it for support just to keep upright.

  “Shut it, princess bitch!” the bearded one bellowed.

  Princess? They knew who I was!

  They stomped closer to me, their hefty motorcycle boots thumping loudly on the tiled floor.

  “So, this is Scott’s baby girl,” the one with a straggly goatee spoke to Beardy.

  “No wonder he kept her locked away in that fucking club compound for so long.” Goatee’s eyes roamed over me lewdly. “Damn, you’re a sweet piece of ass, ain’t ya?”

  Beardy stepped up to me and grasped a strand of my vibrant-pink hair. “This match what you got going on in here?” He reached between my legs.

  “Get back!” I screamed, batting his hand away just before it made contact.

  They both laughed nastily. The insult in it had my initial shock leaving me and ire building quickly. My dad’s words rang in my ear, from the days when he’d taught me how to defend myself when I was younger.

  “Don’t get scared, get angry. Anger is power, baby girl.”

  Beardy went for me again, looking to grab my arm.

  I was ready, reacting faster, thrusting my knee up into his gut. His eyes went wide and he choked, falling back.

  I spun quickly and darted to my worktable, snatching up my pair of scissors. Spinning them around in my hand, I narrowed my eyes menacingly as they advanced on me.

  “Come any closer and you’ll regret it,” I threatened.

  “Bitch likes it rough,” Goatee commented.

  Beardy took a step closer, telling me creepily, “Prez said we gotta keep you breathing. Didn’t say nothing about not dealing out some punishment if you misbehave.”

  I couldn’t suppress a shudder at the disturbing threat.

  “You want the first run at her?” Goatee asked.

  A sudden thud startled me and had them spinning around, their fists at the ready as someone stomped into the room. I couldn’t see past the two of them to see who it was.

  “The only way you’re getting your dicks wet right now is by me ripping them the fuck off and shoving them up your motherfucking asses,” a husky voice boomed.

  Whoa. That was… intense.

  “Who the hell are you?” Goatee demanded. “The bitch’s bodyguard?”

  I saw them moving inch by inch as the new guy managed to manipulate them into maneuvering 180-degrees, until his back was to me, and they were facing into the room.

  The new guy was between me and them, protecting me.

  “All right, Ashley?”

  The new guy shot a quick glance over his shoulder at me. He was wearing a navy baseball cap that concealed his features, but he lifted it enough for me to take him in. That shock of thick, black hair. Those deep-blue eyes.

  Oh my God. It was him. After all this time, it was him protecting me.

  Finn “Wraith” Jones, my dad’s old friend from their Special Forces days. And the man I hadn’t been able to get out of my head for the last couple of years.

  “Finn?” I breathed.

  “Are you?” he pressed, concern all over his face.

  I managed a mute nod, before I was finally able to croak out, “Yeah. Good.”

  His eyes narrowed as he scrutinized my face. “Your cheek says otherwise. These assholes do that?”

  I wrapped my arms around myself, suddenly self-conscious about it, embarrassed that it’d happened at all. “Uh huh.”

  “All right. Look away.” He cracked his knuckles.

  A shriek burst from me when Beardy lunged at him without any warning.

  But Finn was ready. He sidestepped the attack, grasped the psycho’s biceps, and used his weight against him to haul him across the room. I winced as his bulky weight made a dent in the drywall. He groaned as he collapsed onto the hard tile with a nasty thud.

  Oh, hell. “Finn, this is my workplace. Them bursting in here and starting crap is bad enough. But if you—”

  “You’re done with this place as of right now, so it won’t matter.”

  “Excuse me? What are you—”

  “Later!” he ordered, holding up his hand to me.

  Goatee tried to back away as Finn advanced on him, one long intimidating stride at a time.

  “I’m sorry, man. Real sorry.”

  “Sorry?” Finn spat. “Her blood’s staining your fucking rings.”

  I peered closer at the asshole’s fingers. Crap, it was. How deep had he actually grazed me then? Sure, my cheek was stinging, but I’d figured it’d just been the result of the blow itself, not a cut.

  I brought my hand to my face, feeling the burn upon contact. As I pulled it away, blood covered my fingers. It was a hell of a lot worse than I’d thought. The adrenaline coursing through my veins had to be masking the real level of pain.

  Finn’s roar startled me out of myself.

  “What kinda man hits a lady?” he demanded of Goatee.

  “Lady?” Goatee scoffed, clearly done with the apologizing, pleading route. “No way no biker princess of Iron Kings could be a fucking lady.” He pushed it even further when he added with a creepy smirk at me, “I can tell you for damn sure, she won’t be when we’re done passing her ‘round the club.”

  I almost physically gagged at his despicable threat.

  Finn snarled.

  His hand shot out so fast that I barely even registered it until it was wrapped taut around Goatee’s throat. He slammed him against the wall, making the sick bastard choke and splutter.

  “You’re a dead man,” Finn boomed.

  He spun him around, then gripped the back of his head, and smashed his skull viciously into the wall. Goatee whimpered as Finn released him abruptly. He smacked into the wall and slid down onto his ass, his head hanging heavily as he gazed around dazedly.

  Th
e next thing I knew, Finn was back in my space. He gently grasped my shoulders, a stark, jarring contrast to the brutality he’d just exhibited to the attackers.

  “Listen, I need you to look away right now, or you’re gonna have a hell of a hard time sleeping from here on out.”

  Holy crap. I gulped and turned away, slapping my hands over my ears for good measure.

  Unfortunately, my palms over my ears didn’t equate to soundproofing and several back-to-back shrill screams of agony had me jumping, a sickening feeling building in my gut.

  A hand to my back a few moments later had me jumping, a shriek erupting from me. I threw up my fists instinctively, only to look up into Finn’s enthralling deep-blue eyes.

  His hands covered my fists, holding me tightly to him as he told me, “Keep your eyes down, on my chest. Don’t employ any peripheral vision. Just focus on me. I’m gonna guide us out of here.”

  “What did you do to them?” I’d seen some nasty fights in my day. I was the daughter of a MC President for crying out loud. How bad could it really be?

  “Just do what I said,” he said, dismissively.

  I nodded. I didn’t want to push it. Why would I want to see something disturbing?

  Following his instructions, I let him guide me out of the room. Once we were out, he took my hand and pulled me behind him as he pushed out through the back door into the rear parking lot.

  He drew me to a black RAM truck and hauled open the passenger door, giving me a hand up into the seat. He rounded the hood quickly, then settled himself into the driver’s seat. He barely took two seconds to rev up the beast of a truck and take off like a bat out of hell from the lot, proceeding to drive like a madman through the city streets.

  What the hell was happening?

  Adrenaline from the altercation with those guys was still running hot through my veins. Shock at it happening at all consumed me. I was struggling to wrap my head around it all.

  It morphed to frustration quickly.

  It all came bursting out of me in a disjointed rush as I turned to my rescuer and demanded, “What’s going on? Why are you here? Who were those guys? Why are they after me?”

  Finn didn’t say a word, his concentration was directed on the road ahead. He was driving way over the speed limit, weaving in and out of traffic like a man with a death wish.

  “Finn!” I snapped. “Did you hear a word I just said?”

  “Yes.”

  “I don’t believe you.”

  “What’s going on? The Rogues have resurfaced and they’re gunning for you. Why am I here? Your father hired me as your protection detail. Who were those guys? Knox Price’s enforcers. Why are they after you? Because you’re the daughter of a MC President who has a shitload of enemies.” He shot a self-satisfied glance at me. “Does that about cover it?”

  I slumped back against my seat. “Oh my God.”

  “It’s gonna be okay.”

  I looked up to see a gentle, sympathetic expression on his face.

  Seeing him looking at me with such kindness and caring had warmth blooming in my belly. It was how he’d looked at me when I’d helped to nurse him back to health eighteen months ago. I hadn’t been able to get it out of my head since and experiencing it again now was all-consuming. Such a hardened, damaged man exhibiting such a sweet softness was breathtakingly beautiful.

  His brows knit as he took me in. He abruptly broke eye contact and returned his full concentration to the road ahead.

  Was he nervous? Was I making him nervous? A big, bad man like him?

  “Seatbelt,” he ordered.

  I fumbled to put it on, watching his large, manly hands tighten on the steering wheel as he made a sharp turn down a narrow alleyway. He tossed his baseball cap onto the backseat with a grunt and I was finally able to see his ruggedly handsome face in all its glory.

  He muttered something about being overheated.

  In the next moment, my breath caught in my throat, when he started shaking off his leather jacket. He kept one hand on the steering wheel as he skillfully removed it, then tossed it onto the backseat along with his cap.

  He was only wearing a black wife beater underneath, putting his gloriously inked arms on full display. It was some impressive artwork. Unfortunately, my focus on the designs covering the entirety of both arms, from shoulder to wrist, was fleeting. The way his deliciously well-defined muscles bunched and strained whenever he adjusted his grip on the steering wheel, took most of my attention instead. As he adjusted himself in the seat, I noticed the scars on the backs of his arms, the angry, raised, raw flesh of the burns he’d sustained. It was only the start of it, unfortunately. Most of his back was covered with them as well, the backs of his legs too. Pain sliced through me as I recalled those days at the clubhouse when he’d been fighting for his life. He’d suffered so much. And he was still standing, still fighting on. Now he was fighting for my dad, for me. He was one hell of a man.

  He scrubbed his hand over the rough stubble on his chin then dropped it with a heavy sigh to his jean-clad thigh. God, he was built. Sure, I’d seen a lot of guys who were muscular hulks around my dad’s club, but there was something about the way Finn carried it and his whole demeanor, in general, that was so frigging sexy. I just wanted to take my tongue and—

  “Ashley?”

  I jolted from my thoughts, jerking my head his way.

  Crap.

  I could feel my cheeks burning with embarrassment over the things I’d been thinking.

  He cocked an eyebrow at me. Did he know? Had it been obvious that I’d been fantasizing about him, basically salivating over him?

  “Uh… yeah?”

  “I asked you a question, but you were spacing out for a bit there. You all right?”

  His eyes flicked down my body and I tensed with anticipation. Was he thinking the same things about me?

  “Did those assholes hurt you anywhere else, other than your face?”

  Oh. That was why he’d been looking me over. “No,” I said, with a shake of my head.

  “Good,” he grunted, turning his attention back to the road. “We’ll stop in a bit and I’ll take care of that graze for you. We just need to get some distance first.”

  “How much distance exactly? Where are we going?” My fists clenched automatically when I considered the most likely possibility. “I’m not going back there, Finn. Stop this truck right now, if that’s what you’re planning.”

  The truck jostled violently as he sped down the highway on-ramp. His eyes glued to the road as he gunned it to merge, he called over, “Not going back where?”

  “To my dad’s club.”

  “That’s the last place you need to be right now.”

  I frowned. “Why’s that?”

  “The club is under threat. You’d be a sitting target.”

  “Oh. Where are we headed then?”

  “My place.”

  Well, color me shocked. “Your place?”

  “Yes.”

  “How far are we talking?”

  “Three-hundred and six miles from here.”

  Wow. Specific. “That’s… what… a five-hour drive?”

  “I’ll get us there in four.”

  I shifted uncomfortably in my seat. “Are you sure that’s a good idea? Me staying with you?”

  “You’ll be safe,” he assured me.

  Urgh. I was going to have to spell it out. “I meant, with what happened between us.”

  “You planting one on me with that pretty little mouth?”

  I brought my hand to my lips.

  He chose that moment to look over at me.

  I dropped my hand sharply.

  He studied me, his eyes sweeping over my face. “You’re a mission,” he said, his voice cold, his face expressionless.

  My gut clenched at his brutal indifference. He’d done that several times when I’d gotten too close, or asked questions he’d considered too personal, when I’d helped nurse him back to health at the clubhouse. He’d s
hut down and it was so jarringly sudden that I never knew what to do with it, or how to react.

  I decided turning away and focusing on the highway rushing by outside the window was the best for right now.

  I wasn’t sure how much time had passed before he spoke again, making me jump, as it cut through the long silence like the shocking effect of one of those stupid air horns that people seemed to use far too often these days. “You should get some sleep.”

  “I’m fine,” I murmured, my eyes still on the boring view through the tinted window.

  “Ashley.”

  “I’m not going to be able to sleep, okay? You’d think it would be par for the course with me. I’ve been threatened before. Because of my dad, what he is, what he’ll always be. But it doesn’t get any easier. It freaks me out, okay? I’m not the badass, cold, unfeeling bastard that my dad is.”

  “I’m well aware.”

  I swung my head his way. “You are?”

  “You’re soft and sweet. You feel things deeply.”

  “I… wow.”

  He shrugged, dismissively. “I’m just a perceptive guy.”

  Translation: don’t read into it. “Fine,” I muttered.

  “Just try to sleep. It will help with the shock of it all.”

  I slumped back against my seat. “Okay.”

  Closing my eyes, I tried for several minutes to slip into sleep.

  But there was something nagging at me, something that was all the more concerning now that Finn had apparently been assigned as my bodyguard for the foreseeable future.

  “Finn?”

  “Yeah?”

  I braced myself, having absolutely no idea how he’d react. My voice came out as a weak croak, as I forced the words past my lips. “Did you kill those guys back there?”

  His hands tightened on the steering wheel.

  I tensed, sidling closer to the passenger door.

  But then he simply shrugged, almost nonchalantly. “Does it matter? They were there to hurt you. Badly, if you recall what they were spouting off.”

  “It matters.”

  He took a moment, before finally answering me, “I had no choice.”

  “What? Of course, you did. There are other ways to eliminate a threat without resorting to murder.”

  He scrubbed his hand over his chin, muttering under his breath, “You’re so fucking young.”