GRIZ: A Dark Bad Boy Romance (Chained Angels MC)

by Nicole Fox

  One of the men who had been talking so casually about raping me came into the room, his eye already swollen and his lip bleeding. Without looking me in the eye, the Hispanic-looking man reached for my hands. He managed to look sheepish under all of those tattoos and muscles, somehow. It was almost as though he’d shrunk in on himself.

  I felt sick as he came closer, fear rising in my stomach as he got closer. But I needn’t have worried. With gentle fingers, he untied my hands and wrapped my bleeding wrists and fingers with Neosporin-laced bandages, careful not to pull too hard. I was surprised at his little touch. I wondered what would be waiting for me when I met the man with ice for a voice. When it was plain that the man had no other intentions but to wrap my hands and leave me alone, I took a deep breath. Relax. They aren’t going to hurt you. They said so. But the panic still waited in the back corner of my mind, waiting to overtake me again.

  Colton, how could you get me into this? I could feel the sting of those last words we’d shared. I remembered lecturing him for supporting Lyman and his cartels. I also remembered those other words. The ones that still stung my soul.

  “You are pathetic, Marion. Sitting around in this dump, miserable and waiting for someone to come and fix your problems for you. I don’t need another child looking for protection.”

  I wanted Colton to think better of me. And that meant I needed to grow a spine. And fast. What would Colton want me to do? I wished I knew. He’d want me to stop crying and man up. I took a deep breath, trying to square my shoulders under the weight of my current situation. I needed to be strong for Colton and for Dean.

  So I sat up straight, took a deep breath, and waited, trying not to fidget. I didn’t have to wait long.

  The man that appeared in the doorway was nothing like I expected. I was waiting for another tattooed tough guy with a mohawk and a sneer. But he looked so little like a club member, I was pretty sure that he couldn’t have been the leader with the icy voice. He looked like a lawyer, dressed down for a game of golf. He wore khakis and a button down, collared shirt with Ralph Lauren logo on it. If this man had any tattoos, they were well-hidden.

  But then I met his eyes.

  They were so emotionless that I stopped breathing for a moment. There was a coldness about his face that made me believe he could kill a man in cold blood like some men ate a steak. I shivered under his gaze and had to force myself not to wince away from him when he sat down next to me on the bed.

  “What is your name?” the cold man asked finally. His words were dripping with a heavy, Hispanic accent of some sort, matching his dark skin, hair, and eyes. He was handsome in a way, but he would have been much more attractive if he didn’t look quite so dark and sinister.

  I took a deep, quivering breath trying to steady my nerves. “My name is Marion.”

  The man smiled, but it had no warmth in it. The sight of it sent shivers down my spine. “Well, Ms. Marion. It looks like you’ve gotten tangled up in quite the mess. I do hope you’ll forgive the brutish ways of my crew.”

  “Why am I here?” I asked, forcing myself to look into that unfeeling face.

  The man tilted his head. “Because you were running away from my men with Dean Sears. We had to take you both. Now, if you’ll come with me, I’m sure you would like something to eat.”

  As banal as it sounded, I was hungry. “I could really go for some pizza,” I answered, hoping my brave words covered up my shaking. “What is your name?”

  “My name is Virgil Ulrich. I am the leader of the Shadow Cave. We are part rival, part friend to the Heaven’s Horns.”

  I decided to play along with Dean’s lie. “Heaven’s Horns?”

  Virgil just smiled that icy smile again and held out a hand. I took it, surprised at how warm his skin was, considering how cold the rest of him looked. “We hold the same territory as the Horns has. It has been so for many years without issue. Until the Horns brought in a cartel’s wares to our territory. It is causing--” He paused, considering his words carefully. “It is causing a disturbance of the balance here. Which is why we have taken Dean. We know Colton, the future leader of the Horns, will come for his son. This will allow us to talk.”

  Leading me into the main room, I blinked at the barrage of bright sunlight streaming through the high windows. This place looked like it might have once been a car repair garage once upon a time. But now, it reminded me of the Heaven’s Horns and their clubhouse. There were decidedly fewer motorcycles, but more men. All of them looked wary but determined.

  Considering what Lyman is doing, I can hardly blame them.

  “We have lost the ear of the leader of the Horns, Lyman, but we believe his next in line will listen, if given the right incentives.”

  “Dean’s dad is the next in line for a- a club?” I whispered. Colton had never made any mention of it. Not that Colton keeping things from me would be surprising. He’d made it pretty clear that I was nothing more than a cheap night of sex. I swallowed, trying not to let the pain of those memories show up on my face.

  “Come this way, Marion. I want to show you something.”

  So I followed, still tangled up in my own thoughts. I wonder if Colton will rescue me. The thought lit my whole body on fire. I wanted that. I wanted him. I wanted to know he wanted me just as much as he had that night we fucked in my bed.

  But I was pretty sure that was something I would never have.

  Feeling lost, I stayed close to Virgil, hoping I wasn’t following him to my death. Or something worse.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Colton

  I’m going to tear that man’s throat out.

  I daydreamed about wringing that Carrion asshole’s neck, watching those ice-cold black eyes slowly fade into nothing. Then I’d leave his body for the birds. Carrion to the last.

  Fury burned like coals under my skin, seething along each one of my veins. The rage coated my vision like a cloud. I could hear Tank trying to calm me with reason, but I didn’t want to be calmed. I wanted Marion and Dean back now, and I wanted that Carrion asshole to pay for it with his last breath.

  Forcing myself to take a deep breath, I turned to Tank. “Why are we trying to storm the hideout? Virgil wants me alone. To talk.”

  “Because I don’t trust him,” Tank said, quietly. “We need at least three guys to back you up in case you have to shoot your way out. Besides, we’re not sure it’s a good idea for you to be going in there by yourself.”

  I growled. He was probably right; Tank knew me better than anyone. And he knew that I would most likely do something stupid enough to get myself killed if left alone. But that didn’t mean I wanted to agree with him. My barely-contained anger needed a vent, and Virgil’ head sounded like a great place to start.

  Jade drew a vague map of the area in chalk directly on the folding table. The five of us stood in a circle around the table. Jade had the best memory of any of us, and she remembered what the inside of the base looked like. She and Peter had been called there on diplomatic sorts of talks on more than one occasion. But it had been years; that already tenuous relationship between the clubs had been worn away by Lyman’s crazed desire for something more.

  Beside Jade was Tank, and he had several hand-picked men he trusted at his side. One was a huge man named Thad and the other was Tank’s brother, Jaws. The others were gathering supplies elsewhere. The group of us would be the invasion team after we came up with a plan based on Jade’s map.

  The planning only seemed to be slowing us down, and I needed to leave. The only thing that kept me here was Lyman’s vague orders to “bring a team with you.” I didn’t tell him about the note or about everyone’s sudden decision that I was somehow the next in line to Lyman’s throne.

  I didn’t want to think about that. I just wanted to think about Dean and Marion. And wringing Virgil’ neck.

  “Okay, so we’ll send Colton in the front alone, and Jaws, Thad, and I will find a side entrance to storm. As long as we’re quiet, we should be able to cov
er your exit, if you end up needing one. Our priority is Dean. Ignore the woman; she’s not a part of the plan.” Tank was staring at me oddly as he said the words. “Lyman’s orders.”

  When I glanced up at them, both Jade and Tank were watching me, as if waiting for a reaction. I was furious; Lyman’s orders! I knew the men would obey them too, leaving Marion to fend for herself. I wasn’t sure Marion would survive it.

  “The only way we’ll go in after the both of them is if Colton claims Marion as his own, making her part of the Horns for the rest of her life,” Jade finished quietly, annunciating the words slowly like we were learning this for the first time.

  But I couldn’t claim Marion as my own. If my concentration was divided, if I tried to save them both and things went wrong, I would most likely lose both Dean and Marion. I had to choose one, and my son came first. Even if it felt like someone had driven a knife through my ribs and into my chest at the thought of losing Marion, I had to take care of my son. Marion would survive on her own. Or she wouldn’t. It wasn’t my business.

  But it feels like it’s my business.

  Divided and unsure, I forced myself to pay attention to the plan, but my blood only seemed to boil hotter with every word. Filled with fury, I could barely hear the others discussing the plan around the roaring in my ears and in my mind.

  The four of us said goodbye to Jade, filing into one of the Horns’ few cars. It wasn’t as roomy as Jade’s ancient van, but it was quiet. Far quieter than we would be on their bikes. It took us about twenty minutes to cross over into Carrion territory and find their base of operations. So far, Jade’s directions had held up; the front doors of the building were just where we expected them to be. Everything was in order.

  Tank parked the car down the hill about a quarter of a mile from the base. It was as close as we dared get and as far as we dared leave the car. I hoped we wouldn’t need to make a break for it; the hill was empty of any cover that would stop bullets. I guess I will just have to make sure the shooting never starts. It wasn’t my strong suit, being diplomatic. Virgil knew it, too. Which meant he was either desperate to stop Lyman, or hoping I would cause an incident that would start a war between the Shadow Cave and the Heaven’s Horns.

  Either way, it would most likely end in Lyman’s death and the loosening of the grip of the cartel in our city. Virgil won either way.

  It took every ounce of willpower I had not to turn around, grab the keys, and just drive the damn car through the front of the clubhouse.

  Taking a deep breath, I left the boys as they slid around the side of the building in the dark, looking for the side entrance. I walked up to the double doors, my empty fingers itching for my guns, which were holstered at my sides. “They didn’t say unarmed,” I reminded myself.

  The front door swung open on silent hinges as I knocked. I took a deep breath, trying to push back the haze of red that threatened to overtake me again, and stepped inside.

  And Virgil was waiting for me on the other side.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Marion

  I did everything I could to hide my shaking. I felt like the last autumn leaf in the icy first winds of winter. Holding my hands hard in my lap, I tried to ignore the swirl of dangerous people around me.

  Dean was sitting close by, his eyes pointed at nearly anything in the room but me. I wanted to comfort him, to say something that would put him at ease, but we were pretending. Pretending that we didn’t know each other and that Colton wasn’t anything to me. It sounded easier than it was; even little things could have given us away.

  “Do you think they are going to hurt us?” Dean asked finally. He seemed unworried, but he was fidgeting less than usual. It had me worried, but I did my best not to look worried.

  “That Virgil guy said they weren’t. Are you scared?”

  Dean turned and looked at me, a fake little smile on his lips. “I’m not scared of anything, lady.”

  “How old are you?” It was a question I honestly didn’t know the answer to; I’d never thought to ask Dean or Colton his age. I was pretty sure he was about nine, but I’d never actually asked.

  “Eight and a half,” he proclaimed proudly. I was surprised again. Only eight years old and Colton expected so much of him. I wondered what little Dean would be like when he was his father’s age. Probably just as much of a criminal as he is. And that thought made me profoundly sad.

  “Are you tired? You can come lay by me if you are.”

  “I think I’ll be okay. I’m not a baby who goes to bed as soon as it’s dark.”

  I chuckled. “You certainly are not a baby.”

  The man watching over us, different than the one Virgil had beat up, looked back and forth between us. He didn’t seem to know what to make of our little conversation.

  “Either way, there’s plenty of room up on this sofa, if you are interested in taking a nap or something.”

  “I won’t need it,” Dean said confidently. “My dad will find me soon, then he’ll take me home.”

  There was a little wobble in Dean’s voice as he said it. He wanted so much for his dad to come and save him, and save me too, but I wasn’t sure it was going to happen. I doubted Lyman would let him.

  After a few minutes of silence, the door swung open with a groan. The hinges sounded like hadn’t been oiled in years, and I winced at the sound. It grated on my already-frayed nerves like lemon juice over a cut.

  Virgil entered, and our watchdog got to his feet. “Sir,” he said, bowing his head a little. I was amazed at the discipline and respect this man Virgil got from all of his people. The Horns was nothing like this; they didn’t run with military precision like the Shadow Cave did. But both groups were still dangerous. I should have never gotten caught up in either.

  “Ms. Marion.”

  I tried not to show how frightened I was of this man, of his ice cold black eyes. I sat up, looked him right in the face, and squared my shoulders. “Mr. Virgil.”

  He looked amused for a second, the first emotion I’d seen on that stoic face of his. I smiled tentatively in return. “You have lived at that motel for some time?”

  I shook my head, running my fingers through my curls nervously. “No. I just moved in several weeks ago after I lost my apartment.”

  “How did you lose your apartment?”

  I wondered what the harm of answering that question might be and thought through my answer completely before giving it. “I was naive,” I answered finally, feeling my shoulders droop a little. “My business partner took advantage of that. Stole my business out from under me, little by little, until she could take it from herself. Then she burned all of the evidence that I was ever part of the store. So I lost my job and my life savings all in one day. Had to sell everything I owned and moved into a cheaper place.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that,” he answered, his eyes narrowing.

  “Are you?” I retorted, surprising myself. “You don’t look it.”

  His chuckle was dry and humorless. “So, you live on the same floor as Colton Sears?”

  “This little boy’s father? Yes. But I do my best to stay out of his way.” Not entirely a lie.

  “Have you ever met anyone else from the Heaven’s Horns?”

  I shrugged. “Maybe? I met a lot of people.”

  Virgil cleared his throat, obviously annoyed. “Did you know that the Heaven’s Horns is bringing in a cartel’s goods from Mexico to try and one-up the market here? Did you know they are trying to start turf wars with the other clubs in the area to gain the upper hand and wipe us all out?”

  I shook my head. I hadn’t thought of it like that. I didn’t have to pretend to look horrified and surprised. “Why would they do that? Couldn’t bystanders be--” I swallowed hard. Perhaps I should tell him the truth, especially if he’s trying to stop the cartel from moving in.

  He nodded. “I doubt very much that the cartel moving in will care much for the local lives of civilians,” Virgil answered coolly. He sat down
across from Dean in one of the metal folding chairs, crossing his right leg over his left.

  Nausea rose in my gut. He was right, of course. There was no denying it.

  “We believe that there is some dissent inside of the Horns, and that Colton might be one of the men who is willing to listen to reason. We want to help him rise to power over Lyman and send the cartel packing before they get a foothold.”

  “Why do you think my dad would help you?” Dean asked, crossing his arms over his chest. “Especially after you broke into my house and kidnapped me.”

  “We believe your father to be a reasonable, if angry, man,” Virgil leaned back in his chair, his unnerving eyes still locked on me. “He’s not stupid, and I know he must hate the idea of letting the cartels in as much as I do.”