by S. Nelson
When I didn’t respond, he reached for the book I’d left on a side table and whipped it at me. Thankfully, I’d been watching his every move and ducked at the very last second. Even if the book had hit me, it wouldn’t have done much damage, seeing as it was a thin paperback. But still, any chance I could escape his wrath was a win, although it didn’t happen often at all.
I knew it was in my best interest to answer him, even though my voice alone could cause him to fly off the handle even more. “Yes. I just . . . I just thought I could help you find it,” I said dejectedly, looking back down at my lap.
“Well,” he responded, “if you wanna help me so much, get off your lazy ass and help me look for my guns.” He didn’t wait for me to move before he tore the room apart, destroying the calm I’d tried so hard to create inside our bedroom. We didn’t have much, but what we did have was neat and organized. I hated chaos. I couldn’t stand a messy room, the scattered items instantly making me anxious. It’s funny, I would give anything for a messy room to be my worst problem, but cleanliness was the only thing I could control, so I held on to it with everything I had still pumping inside me.
Knowing full well he was going to lash out at me if I didn’t help him, I scrambled off the bed, the oversized T-shirt I had on falling down and hitting me mid-thigh. I had on boy shorts, but he couldn’t see them under the shirt. I never purposely wore anything tight or revealing, mainly because I didn’t wish to call any attention to myself, his possession of me casting over him in a near demonic way sometimes. Plus, the one time I wore clothing which actually fit me, he’d freaked out and accused me of wanting to have sex with every single one of his brothers.
It was the first time he’d raped me, but it certainly wasn’t the last.
His eyes quickly grazed over my body before he resumed searching for his weapons. I breathed a sigh of relief that he wasn’t focusing on me and helped him scour the small space.
Scrambling underneath the bed, I pulled out a small black duffel bag. Without looking inside, I called Vex’s attention to me. “Is this what you’re looking for?” I called out, taking a step back after placing the bag on top of the bed.
Whipping his head toward me, he eyed the bag before approaching. He was cautious not to appear thankful, or happy, or whatever emotion he thought would weaken him in front of me.
Pulling back the zipper, he peered inside, and I swore I saw a hint of a smirk trace over his lips before he closed the material. Without another word, he snatched the duffel and practically ran from the room, yelling for whoever was waiting for him.
A thin shield of fear enveloped me as soon as I was all alone. The only time Vex went in search of his extra guns was when they were preparing for a heavy defense or for retaliation.
And the only club we were truly at war with was the Knights Corruption. A club so vile they made ours sound like a walk in the park. At least that’s what I’d been told my entire life. The fear of the devil had been drilled into me when it came to the KC MC. They were our most hated enemies and, although I was treated lower than the mud on their shoes, my club protected me from the outside world. Mainly, they protected me from the Knights. Contact with them in any way would prove detrimental to me. My father once told me he would rather see me dead than in the hands of the KC, threatening to pull the trigger himself if I ever found myself in such a predicament.
The biggest insult to the likes of our clubs was to be taken by the enemy. To be forced to live with them, to be integrated into their way of life and become one of them, for however long, was the worst kind of fate. Not only would my life be in ruins if the Knights ever got their hands on me, but I would no longer be accepted by the Savage Reapers.
They would hunt me down and kill me simply for breathing the same air as their nemesis.
Marek
Four days had passed since I’d found Tripp hanging on for dear life.
Four days of witnessing the touch-and-go status of a fellow brother, Hawke’s actual blood brother.
Four days of planning our next move.
In our last meeting, I declared our retaliation would wait until we gathered enough intel, which would make our reprisal worth it. But things had since changed. They dared to spit at us, to taunt and harass us, jumping Tripp as he left The Underground. They knew enough not to go inside, the evidence of their last stupid mistake dumped in front of their club.
We had to move, and do it quickly, before anything else happened, or any more Knights’ blood was spilled.
“That’s it,” I heard the soft tone of Adelaide say as I walked into Chambers. She was tending to Tripp with the utmost care, cleaning and re-dressing his many wounds, careful not to press too hard because of the amount of pain he was still reeling with. The call she’d made when we were in the thick of it was to a doctor friend of hers, someone she worked closely with at the hospital. She swore she trusted him but just in case, we put the fear of God into him as soon as he arrived. He looked none too pleased with the likes of us, his brows drawn and his face rigid, but luckily his features softened as soon as his eyes landed on Adelaide’s face. And who could blame him? She was certainly the looker, her toned and tanned body nice and tight, her tits the perfect size with an ass that didn’t quit. Her uncle had seen most of the men leering after her, and he’d made no qualms about threatening each of their lives if they even thought about touching her. A threat she found quite amusing, as was shown by the curvature of her full lips.
Our back room in Chambers had been turned into a makeshift operating room. Thankfully, the good doc, with the help of Adelaide, was able to remove the one remaining bullet from Tripp’s chest. He’d given him a decent prognosis but warned us about infection, telling us the following twenty-four hours were going to be crucial.
My undying gratitude for Trigg’s niece was not something I gave freely, but the woman was a miracle worker. Her gentleness with him was a welcome sight since we hardly witnessed such rare emotion in our lives. We lived hard, lived rough, so when an angel’s touch was felt, it reminded me there was some good left in the world. Too bad I would never feel the effects of it. Not as far as I could see, at least.
“If you keep teasing me like that, sweetheart, you’re gonna get a reaction you don’t want,” Tripp grumbled, his dry lips kicking up into a tiny smirk. His dark hair was clean, all the blood and dirt wiped from his face and body. She’d even given him a clean shave, ridding him of the slight stubble covering his jaw. He looked much better after she’d finished with him—pale, but much better. At least, that was what she proclaimed. Me? I could give two shits how my men looked. I only cared about how they acted.
Before Adelaide could respond, I spoke up, reminding him just who he was taunting. “Hey, buddy. You better watch yourself before Trigger comes in here and puts another bullet in you.” I grinned, but he clearly looked confused. “Don’t you know who you’re hittin’ on there?”
“My guardian angel.” He chuckled, falling into a coughing fit and clutching his chest from the exertion.
“All right. All right. Let’s not work him up too much. My patient has to rest, and I won’t have the likes of you bothering him.” She glanced back at me and smiled, not fearing me in the least. It was rare that someone spoke to me like she had, teasing or not. But my appreciation toward her gave her a pass; plus, I knew she meant nothing by it. She wasn’t disrespecting me in any way and we both knew it, so I refused to make a big deal over it.
Another time and I’d throw the friendly warning at Tripp of just who his ‘guardian angel’ really was. I’d hate for the man not to be armed with the knowledge that she was a fellow brother’s family, someone not to be messed with.
My demeanor changed as I approached them both. “Seriously, though, how is he doing?” I asked, stopping directly next to Adelaide and hovering over the recuperating form of our nomad member.
“He definitely has a hard road ahead of him, but I think he’ll be fine. Luckily, none of the bullets did any major damag
e,” she proclaimed, gripping his hand softly in hers. Tripp gave me a faint wink before drifting off to sleep. He was clearly exhausted, his body’s fight to recover a tiresome one.
Once I was done checking up on Tripp, I thanked Adelaide once more and turned around to leave. It was then that I saw Stone hovering in the doorway. He looked unnerved, and I guessed it had something to do with one of the people behind me.
Walking closer so there was no mistaking my motive, I stopped two feet in front of him. His eyes instantly found mine and he relaxed a little. But there was some sort of fire burning in his eyes, and I had no idea why. As far as I was aware, there was no bad blood between my VP and the nomad. I couldn’t pinpoint why he was so on edge until I heard her voice again, promising to care for Tripp until he was all better.
Then I saw it.
The tightening of his jaw.
His hands curling into fists.
His chest expanding and rigid.
His lips turning up into an unyielding sneer.
The look he shot their way was similar to the one he’d directed at Hawke when he put his hands on her while she was inspecting his brother.
It was an undying sign of possession. A rare emotion for Stone, for sure, but it was there nonetheless.
“Do we have a problem here, Stone?” I asked, preparing to physically remove him if I had to. The last thing we needed right then was a fight amongst brothers. I had enough to worry about with Trigger’s threats for the men to stay away from his niece, never mind trying to figure out what the hell we were gonna do about payback. I didn’t need to deal with Stone’s weird reaction as well.
He looked past me when I spoke, so I shoved him back toward the threshold of the room. “Stone!” I shouted. As soon as his eyes found mine again, I repeated, “Do we have a problem here?”
His fiery gaze was his telltale sign that there was more going on than I knew. Countless tense seconds passed before he answered. Gritting his teeth, he unconvincingly said, “No. No problem here.”
I obviously didn’t believe him, but I wasn’t gonna deal with whatever was up his ass right then. I had bigger issues to worry about. “Good. Now, go get everyone and tell them we’re having an emergency meeting.”
A fierce nod and he retreated from the room. When I looked behind me, I saw Adelaide’s eyes following Stone, a strange look marring her features.
What the hell is going on with these two?
Sully
I hadn’t seen Vex since the night he came storming into our bedroom. Having no idea where he’d gone, I’d kept to myself like I normally did. Women weren’t allowed to wander the clubhouse unless they were called there for one particular reason—to be used and abused. Why most of them kept coming back for more was beyond me. They were free to live their lives outside of our MC, yet they craved the attention of the men. Weird.
I was the only exception to the rule simply because I was the president’s daughter, although that didn’t really mean much; they all knew how he treated me. But I was still allowed to wander the clubhouse at random, although I made sure to keep to the common areas, mainly because I knew Vex would accuse me of fucking someone if I wasn’t in plain sight. Hell, he suspected it regardless, but I didn’t want to encourage his paranoia any further than he already took it.
Pricking my ears toward a strange noise, I tried my best to listen for it again. Most of the men were retired to their rooms, only a few left to wander around the center room, drinking and laughing it up. It was a quiet night otherwise.
When all I heard were the sounds of the drunken club members, I resumed making myself a sandwich. The bread was but a whisper from my hungry lips when I heard what sounded like a car crash, the noise so explosive it drew the attention of the entire club. Men ran from their rooms in confusion, some of them tripping over items littered all over the common room floor. My need for cleanliness didn’t expand past my bedroom.
“What the hell was that?” my father roared, appearing out of nowhere and zipping up his pants. Nancy, one of his many women, appeared but quickly hurried back inside the room he’d just come from.
His wild eyes found mine, his steps never faltering while he practically ran at me. “Get in your room, Sully. Lock and barricade the door and don’t come out until I come and get you,” he demanded, gripping my arm so tight I winced in pain. “Do you hear me?” he shouted.
“Yes,” I whispered. He shoved me backward and once he saw me retreat down the long hallway toward my room, he ran for the front of the clubhouse, shouting for his men to get their guns ready.
There was so much commotion, so many people yelling indiscernible commands, it was hard to hear what was really going on. The only thing I knew was there was some kind of accident outside. It could have been deliberate or not. The men of our club were not the brightest bulbs, some of them downright stupid. While we were guarded by a tall, heavy fence, the men guarding it sometimes were so drunk off their asses, or coked out of their minds, they were utterly useless. On a sober day, they were ruthless and cunning, but get a little bit of poison in their veins and they were easy targets, making the entire place an easy target as well.
Once I’d successfully locked myself inside my room, I pushed a small dresser in front of the door. It was the only piece of furniture I could move myself, so I hoped it worked. I crouched in the corner, turning off the light so I was bathed in darkness. Shivering in fear of what was happening outside, I prayed to make it through unscathed. I was in mid-promise to God when I heard an endless spray of gunshots.
Reminding myself that I’d lived through this type of thing many times before, I tried my best to slow my thumping heart and calm myself with deep breaths, but nothing worked. Men continued to scream between unrelenting gunfire.
Minutes after bullets were discharged, I heard heavy footsteps coming down the hallway, commands being given to the men barreling toward my room. I didn’t recognize their voices. They weren’t coming from any of the evil beasts who normally resided behind our club walls. No, these deep, dark voices came from whoever had just invaded the Savage Reapers’ lair.
And the only club daring enough to pull off such a thing was the Knights Corruption.
Our biggest enemy.
“Back here!” I heard one of them shout. I prayed they were looking for someone or something else, but my hopes were dashed when the handle to my bedroom jiggled. As soon as they realized it was locked, someone started pounding on the door, so hard it was a wonder they didn’t split the wood down the middle.
More shouts.
More pounding.
All of a sudden, the frame splintered and a small sliver of light from the hallway filtered into the room. From where I was hiding, I couldn’t see who was out there, but I could certainly hear them.
“She has to be in here,” I heard one of the intruders yell. “There’s no way they would leave her out of their sight.” The second comment came from a different man, one whose voice was more gravelly and deeper than the first man. It was then I realized who they were talking about. They wouldn’t be busting down the door for some common club whore.
No, they were coming for me.
Dreadful thoughts rampantly flitted through my mind. Thoughts of what they would do to me if they hauled me out of my room, and ugly thoughts of what my own club would do to me if they ever got me back.
Either way, I would be dead, but instead of welcoming the sweet lick of death to stroke my body, something I’d prayed for since I could remember, an innate need to survive kicked in from out of nowhere. Adrenaline pumped through me in waves, blurring my vision and hiccupping my breaths with each and every pound of the door, every shout directed toward and about me, and every gunshot that sliced through the thickening night air.
The room flooded with the hallway light, the door ripped from its hinges while I still tried to loose myself inside the small space. My room held no security for me, but as long as my ears were covered I could only hear muffled sounds, and stifled
sounds were better than listening to what they were actually saying, what they had planned for me.
A loud crash jolted me back into the reality of the situation. I waited for more gunfire, but all that followed the toppling dresser was harsh, ragged breathing. I wasn’t sure if the sounds were my own or from those who had just entered the room.
Then one of them spoke.
The man with the deep, gravelly voice. A voice which sent shivers of fear and fascination deep into my soul. The mixture of feelings confused me, but I had no time to delve into what they really meant. The only focus in the forefront of my disheveled mind was to figure out how to survive.
Would I beg for my life? Would I appear weak in the face of the enemy? I couldn’t answer with certainty, and that alone was disarming. I had no idea what to do, what to say or how to feel.
Luckily, the decision was stolen from me the instant my eyes found him.
A tall, broad man stalked forward, every step closer deciding my fate. My head had instinctually risen so I could see who was coming for me, and what I saw stopped my heart. While my soon-to-be captor was covered in blood, no doubt from his up-close-and-personal bloodshed of my fellow Savages, his prowess shined through. His pale blue eyes pinned me defenseless, his hair short and cropped to his head, a trimmed beard covering his sharp jawline. Blood dripped from his cheeks, and I instantly wondered if he’d been hurt.
The man who had come to kidnap me was the most handsome man I’d ever laid eyes on. But I vowed then and there to never fall prey to his charms, if ever he decided to enchant me with them. Although I hated my club, my father and Vex, I wasn’t a traitor. And falling for the enemy was the worst kind of sin to be committed in our ruthless, deadly world.
Shit, as far as I knew, he could be the Devil’s nephew, just as brutal and evil as my father and Vex.
Reaching forward, his hand was suddenly thrust into my personal space. Maybe if I close my eyes they’ll all go away. Maybe it’ll all be an awful dream, a nightmare I’ll soon wake up from. Shutting my lids tight, I squeezed my hands over my ears and drowned out the sounds in hope everything would return back to normal.
