Campbell's Reaper: Soul Reapers #2

by J. D. Lowrance

  “Keys,” I demanded as I made my way to the other tent. Campbell needed me. Yet, I was not prepared for what I saw when I stepped inside.

  Just breathe motherfucker. Just breathe.

  She had not even looked up as I entered. She cowered from me, shrinking into herself as she fought the trembles that rode her body. Was it the chill of the night or the terrors that Crazy Z unleashed on her? Goosebumps flared across my skin now like they did all over hers when that slight breeze followed me into the tent nipping at her exposed body. Her pink lacy bra was ripped in half and hung open, leaving her breasts bare; her pink nipples hardened to fight the cool breeze. She had bite marks and broken blood vessels all over her neck and shoulders, with bruises starting to form. I FUCKING SAW RED. It took every ounce of self-control I possessed to slow my breathing. Campbell needed me. Her rapid breathing was the only sound in the small tent as I approached her.

  The sight of her helpless and afraid stole my breath as I whispered, “Sunshine.” Her head shot up, nailing me with those chocolate eyes that were shadowed with fear. The minute our eyes connected, the golden flecks shot to life as she held my gaze. I took a step closer as I lifted my hands so she could see them moving to unlock her cuffs. Another step and I felt her nipples brush my cut as I examined the right side of her face that was an angry red, puffy with the start of a bruise right under her eye that would be black by morning. Confusion marred her perfect face as she took a good, long look at me as if not believing I was really there. “Sunshine,” I murmured as her body shook. Her choppy breathing told me she was trying to hold back her tears. Then Campbell stole my heart and ruined me for anyone else when she sang my name as if I was her fucking savior.

  “Oh my God, Tank.” I prayed that no one outside the tent heard it, but God never really answered my prayers so why would he start now.

  “You know these two?” I heard Crazy Z ask. “That explains a lot.” There was more yelling and cursing as I quickly took off my cut and jacket, removing my long sleeve shirt to give to Campbell. Tremor after tremor wreaked havoc on her small frame. Her teeth chattered as her arms went through the sleeves and I pulled down the shirt. I was never so happy at being a tank before as I was now; the shirt on me was a dress on Campbell. With my cut and jacket back on, I pulled her into my body as I rubbed her arms and back, trying to put warmth back into her body. “Everything is going to be okay,” I mumbled as her head rested under my chin.

  “Take me away from here,” she pleaded as another full body quiver raced through her. Her plea got me focused on getting the hell out of there. I grabbed her hand and led her out of the tent.

  The chaos around us was unsettling. A fucking war was about to break out as we watched as Logan fell to the ground from a vicious pull on the leash connected to the dog collar around her neck. Colton took off after Crazy Z rescuing the leash from his hands, as he stood in front of Logan.

  “Logan,” Campbell yelled as she made a move to get to Logan. I stepped in front of her, stopping her forward progress, when all eyes shifted to us.

  “Tank,” Whistler yelled, “get her out of here now.” There was no hesitation as I turned my back, scooped up Campbell and ran through camp, straight to my bike.

  Campbell

  Tank was here. I mean he was actually here. I pinched myself again making sure I was awake and not hopped up on the happy juice the Hellhounds keep shooting into Logan’s veins. I prayed during every second of that nightmare that Tank would ride up and take me away from that misery. And he did it. He actually did it! The roar of the bike reminded me once again that I was being led away from the craziness that was tonight.

  But what about Logan? I knew Colton would never let anything happen to her but what if he could not keep her safe. How did Tank’s club end up here of all places?

  When I heard the voices outside of the tent I thought I heard Colton’s but I dismissed it as my mind trying to appease the helplessness I felt from bubbling over. Then I heard the word “keys” followed by the flap of the tent opening. I ducked my head praying that whoever entered would just let me go. Fat chance! I only wanted one man’s touch and so far tonight one too many had copped a feel.

  I shivered as I thought about that moment in the tent when the first man, who I now knew was Tank’s MC President, walked into the tent. He did not approach me but stayed right at the entrance. He asked some questions as I stubbornly stared him down with what I hoped was my most intimidating expression refusing to answer him. I was so livid that these men thought they could do this to us because of my stupid-ass father. They were the idiots that gave the jokester the fucking cash and then they hold us like we could get it back. I felt brave until he took that first step towards me and everything I feared about what they were going to do to me closed in around me, blackening the corners of my vision, making me cower at his presence.

  It was not long after Tank’s President left that I could hear footsteps approaching so I lifted my eyes to see who would be the next person to enter the tent where I was being held captive. I felt my eyes heat up with frustration and anger at what was happening to Logan and me. I felt so brave after my encounter with the first guy, but a shiver of trepidation ran through my body as the flap to the tent opened. My plan was to be brave until my eyes landed on the scariest man I had ever seen step through the entrance of the tent. He wasted no time as he stalked towards me and I saw in his eyes everything I feared they were going to do to me. It closed in around me, blackening the corners of my vision, making me cower at his presence. My heart thundered in my chest as my breath raced in and out of my body. My eyes never broke contact with his for fear he would pounce the minute I looked away.

  His different colored eyes traced over every inch of my exposed skin. The blue one was as cold and lifeless as arctic waters, while the red one was hard and terrifying. I let my eyes wander over his face as he continued his perusal of me. The face of the monster before me held a dark tan and looked leathery to the touch. A large, angry scar ripped through his red, glass eye from his hairline to his cheek.

  He came to a stop in front of me. I inhaled sharply as he traced his index finger from my shoulder following the line of my pink, lacy bra over my cleavage, dipping into the space between my breasts. My breathing was erratic as I tried to maintain control of the uncontrollable - HIM.

  “So young, baby girl,” he spoke in a gentle voice, belying his true intention. “And so different from your sister; the vanilla to her chocolate.” He circled me like the predator I knew him to be, stopping directly behind me. I felt his nose in my hair and he inhaled deeply before tracing the outline of my matching panties along my hips. I heard him crotch down as he traced the lacy thong along my right butt cheek. His second hand pawed my other cheek as he continued to run his fingers back and forth. I gasped as I felt his tongue trace where his fingers had been moments before. He then blew where he licked; sending goose bumps all over my body in response. “So sweet,” he murmured. I tried pulling away but the handcuffs bit into my wrists causing me to whimper.

  “Where are you going baby girl?” He asked as he walked back around to stand where he was before. “The night is just getting started.”

  Fuck you! The anger I felt earlier came roaring back. It all happened so fast, I pulled my legs up letting my body hang from the cuffs as I shot my legs out kicking him square in the chest, sending him stumbling back. He was just far enough away from me that I got enough power to push him further away, but not enough to do any damage. He caught himself, half bent over as he caught his breath. That was when I heard the most terrifyingly wicked laugh I had ever heard.

  Fear coursed through my body as he stood to his full height. The laughter abruptly stopped as he charged me, grabbing my bra and ripping it in half. I cried out as he squeezed both breasts, rolling them in his hands. “You like it rough baby girl?” He asked as he licked one of my nipples before biting down. I screamed as I tried to kick him away, struggling against the cuffs. The wicked laughter retu
rned as he pinned my body to the pole. “So spirited for someone so young,” he crooned as he licked, sucked and bit my neck. “I would love breaking you in baby girl.” I never stopped trying to get away from him as he continued his assault on my neck, ear, and shoulder. The more I struggled the harder his cock grew against me. I immediately froze when I realized I was encouraging his erection.

  “Oh, baby girl doesn’t want to play anymore,” he mocked as he grabbed my face holding it in place as he licked across my bottom lip. I pulled it in between my teeth to get it away from him. “That really is a shame for me and most definitely you, because I was just getting started.” He grinded his hips into mine proving his point. I bit down on my bottom lip to stop the scream that wanted to escape as much as I did. No weakness. Not in front of him. BE BRAVE! My mind howled at me.

  He tugged my bottom lip from under my teeth with his index finger, and then he ran it past my chin, between my breasts, stopping at the top of my underwear. “Will I find you as tight and perfect as your sister?” He paused, running his finger back and forth across my stomach. “Should I find out or leave that to the lucky brother that will get first dibs on you tonight if I don’t get you.” The sob finally escaped. “Oh, don’t worry baby girl,” he vowed as he turned his back to me walking away, “I completely and utterly plan on getting your sister. She is MINE.”

  The silence that followed his departure was screaming in its finality. Him, his club, the other club. It did not matter. Someone was “getting me” tonight and I knew that once I was gotten nothing would ever be the same. A sob escaped unchecked from deep within me.

  I am so fucking stupid. Why the fuck did I open that door and let that bulldozer of a man into the house? I should have known better than to answer it no matter what lies he was spewing. Logan in the fucking hospital? How stupid could I be? Tank would have been there or Colt would have called. I knew better and my gut told me to run and hide but I went against everything I was taught and opened that damn door.

  My thoughts brought me back to the here and now. Poor Logan and what she must have gone through in the tent with that monster. Crazy Z was obviously insane in the fucking membrane and Colton and Logan needed to know about the bulls-eye on her back. At least she had Colton to keep her safe and I had Tank.

  Did I have Tank? We had known each other for a month, did sleepovers practically every night and he was just starting to make his move. Would this change how he saw me? Would he still want me after all of this?

  CHAPTER SIX

  Tank

  Just breathe motherfucker. Just breathe.

  A mantra I kept repeating as I continued to drive away from the insanity that was tonight. Sunshine is safe. I reminded myself as I found her hands around my midsection and squeezed. Campbell responded with a slight squeeze of her arms that were wrapped tight around me, molding her to me as I twisted my bike’s throttle picking up speed yet again. I could never drive fast enough to get away from THEM.

  My gut was always right and I should have listened to it when Campbell did not answer her phone. It screamed at me to go to her place but my brotherly duty called me in another direction as the entire Soul Reapers MC headed out to meet the Hellhounds. I refused to be that brother that bailed on his MC when shit needed to get done. Never gonna happen. But now?

  Now, that was some crazy ass shit that went down tonight. The Hellhounds took something of ours and there was no smoothing that over. Nothing was going to stop the hell storm that would rain down on them after tonight. Just thinking about what Crazy Z could have done set my blood to boil. I needed to turn this fucking bike around and end his sorry ass.

  Just breathe motherfucker. Just breathe.

  Even if Colton had not listened to Logan and picked Campbell, she would have left that hell with me no matter what. No more playing the obedient brother if my Sunshine was still back in that tent tied to that pole.

  Why? My mind screamed at me. You can’t protect her. My heart was pounding in my chest in response to what my mind was throwing at me. Yet another person I love that I can’t protect. Love?

  FUCK! I was a worthless piece of shit. Everything that I thought we were building was gone. Just gone. There was no way Campbell would trust me after I let this happen. I needed to get Campbell home and then get her to walk the fuck away from me. I was in too deep and was too fucking needy of her and her light to ever walk away. I needed her to leave. There were other brothers. Other brothers? The thought of another brother, let alone another man, touching Campbell was like a stake to the heart. The thought had me wanting to kick my own ass. But she needed me to grow a pair and show her how she was better off without me. She was smart enough that if I acted the part of an asshat she would not walk, not run, but sprint as fast as she could out of my life.

  I needed to stay angry in order to do this, in order to keep her at arm’s length until she left. I never really knew true anger, even after everything that happened with my mom and sister, then my fucker-of-a-father, until I saw Campbell handcuffed to that wooden pole.

  My mind was all over the fucking place. Campbell needed someone stronger than me. She needed someone who could protect her. Everything Whistler said about me was true. I was weak. I was worthless. I could not protect the ones I loved. Images of my mother and sister played across my mind; me tied to a fucking chair as members of Night Demons MC ravished them over and over again. After the second or third time, the only sound in the room was my screaming and the grunts of club members who were pissed at the Soul Reapers’ Enforcer. I screamed and yelled and cursed until one of them pistol whipped me, knocking me out. I came to, to find Whistler standing over my mother’s and sister’s bloodied bodies with a bottle of whiskey in one hand and the bloody knife used against them in the other.

  I will never, in my entire life, forget what happened next. He looked over at me as if I was the cause of all of this, as if I was the one who had laid waste to our family. Everyone always said I was a spitting image of my father so I do not know if he was talking to me or himself that night when he spewed shit in the air that still clung to me this day. His tirade was endless.

  “You worthless piece of shit. You did nothing to stop this. You are weak and will always be weak. You don’t have what it takes. You fucking coward.”

  I stopped listening to him after a while as I continued to cry. The hatred I felt for him was born that night. He left me there tied up to that chair as he sought his revenge against the ones who did this and those that ordered it. It took two days before Prez came to the house and found what was left of my family.

  Years later and many talks with Prez somewhat convinced me that the thirteen year old me could never have taken on four Night Demons and that I was lucky I was able to stab one of them with the kitchen knife I grabbed. But I knew even then that the only justice our family found was by the hands of my father. Whistler has reminded me of that fact every chance he could, and now he had even more ammunition to add to his arsenal of what a worthless piece of shit I was.

  I felt Campbell squeeze me again brining me back to the present as the wind whipped around us. She saw me as her knight in shining armor. I could see it on her precious face when we were in the tent and later when I was getting her ready to ride out of there. Yeah right! The closest fucking thing I had to a white horse was my jet black 0-9 Fat Boy. And a lady had never donned the back of it until now. Evident by the warm body molded to me. I felt the warmth of her body . . . her pussy rubbing against me and my bike as she rode bitch. Fucking focus. All Campbell had to do was be close to me and my mind, my body craved her. I needed some space to get my head on straight if I was going to send her on her way.

  The wrath, the pain I saw in her eyes, the vulnerability I felt at seeing her beaten and tied to that pole; I needed it all to remind me of what I needed to do. Because if I forgot, even for a second, and started to enjoy the way she felt pressed up against me, riding bitch on my bike, wearing my clothes so everyone knew she was MINE, I would never let
her leave.

  I had already accomplished two of the three things I laid out for myself when I walked out of that tent. First she needed pants, done. Then we needed to get gone, done. Once we were back at the clubhouse, where I knew she would be out of harm’s way, I could create that space that I so desperately needed in order to show her she needed to move on from this teenage crush she had on me. Because that’s all this could be, right? Just a stupid crush. Yeah-the-fuck-right.

  Lockdown at the clubhouse was inevitable with all the shit that went down between us and the Hellhounds tonight. We would be at war by morning and I, like the obedient brother I was, was ready for battle.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Campbell

  God my ass hurts. I knew other thoughts should be racing through my mind after everything that had happened, but we had been on this bike for-fucking-ever. I tried giving Tank every hint imaginable to get him to stop. I squeezed him with my arms, my thighs. I even resorted to banging my forehead against his back and yet here we were miles later still cruising like this bitch seat was comfortable. Are you kidding me?

  Desperate times called for desperate measures. So I did what any self-respecting lady would do who had to pee like a race horse; I pinched him HARD when I saw signs for the next exit.

  “Jesus Sunshine,” I heard Tank yell as he pried my nails from his waistline, but I got what I wanted as he started to pull onto the exit ramp. Thank God.

  The bike was barely to a stop as I hopped off yanking up Tank’s pants that I was wearing as I tore off into the gas station looking for a bathroom.

  Sweet relief. No woman should ever have to hold their bladder that long as she rode the back of a bike that seemed to hit every bump in the road. Once I was finished, I made my way over to the sink to wash up. Dear Lord Baby Jesus! Half of my face resembled a bruised state-puffed marshmallow man . . . woman.