by Joanna Blake
Fight Janet. No matter what. You fight.
There was something happening outside the dark room, the 5 by 8 foot cage that had become her world. Loud voices, a gunshot, screams. Through her haze she merely acknowledged that there was a new development.
The question was, could she use it to her advantage?
She forced her wayward mind to focus briefly. Maybe… maybe she could use the diversion to escape. Get out. Run.
The darkest part of her asked where she would go… there wasn't anyone who wanted her around. Kaylie was her true friend but she still lived at home. Janet tried to think of a place to run to.
The only place she could think of was the clubhouse.
That's where Jack would be. Maybe he would know a place for her to hide. If he could pull himself off of the sleazy blond he'd been with.
But he would help her anyway. He had to. He cared, at least a little bit.
Didn’t he?
But he was with her. The faceless girl he’d wrapped his arm around. She shook her head. That bastard had literally tossed her aside without a second thought.
The fury that thought engendered snapped her out of her stupor. She still felt slow, she still felt weak, but she was fighting it.
And she was winning.
If only so she could slap Jack’s face when she saw him again.
Chapter Thirty-Three
Jack
Jack stared into the terrified eyes of the woman at the front desk. She looked like an aging stripper. He didn't respond to her chirpy greeting and offer for him to peruse the menu of options.
He simply said one word.
“Red.”
The woman blanched and reached for a hidden button. Jack was on her in a second, lifting her in the air by her neck. He'd never hurt a woman, but right now he wanted to tear this bitch's head off.
His voice was low and vicious when he spoke.
"WHERE. IS. THE. REDHEAD."
The woman's eyes darted to the hallway behind him. He lowered her and released her throat just enough to allow her to gasp in some air.
"She's- in- the- back. Down the stairs and to the left."
He cursed. The basement. It sounded like a death trap. Once he got her, how the hell was he supposed to get her back out?
"What you need, bro’?”
He turned to see Dev and eight of the Spawn's behind him. He almost smiled at them, he was so Goddamned relieved to see them.
"They have Janet. She's in the basement. Make sure everyone stays quiet."
Dev nodded and gestured to Mike, the prospect. He stepped forward and started tying up the hostess. Jack sneered at her as he passed. What kind of woman did this to her own sex?
She was a fucking cannibal.
He stormed down the hallway, leaving it to Dev and the other Spawn's to watch his back. He didn't care one way or the other. He just had to find her.
He pushed open door after door until he came to the stairwell at the end of the hallway. He interrupted several paying clients getting their rocks off. He didn’t care. They should be fucking ashamed of taking advantage of these women.
Janet was one of them. They might have- used her like that.
He couldn't hold it back any longer. He screamed.
"JANET!!!"
Everybody stopped at the guttural bellow that emanated from his gut. For a long moment everything seemed to be frozen in time while they all waited expectantly to hear her reply. It was completely silent in the low lit hallway.
Until the world exploded.
Vipers seemed to be coming out of the walls. They had guns. They had knives. They had fists.
But they never got the chance to use them. Jack used his fists to fight his way through ten of them in seconds.
The Viking was in full effect.
Chapter Thirty-Four
Janet
Janet heard the commotion upstairs. She waited, forcing herself into a state of readiness. Or almost readiness.
However ready you could be when someone had slipped you a mickey.
She swayed on her haunches, clutching a shoe in each fist. She wasn't going down without a fight. Her eyes closed sleepily and she forced them open again.
Footsteps. Heavy, loud. Running down the stairs. Toward her.
She lifted her body, ready to spring.
The doorknob turned without opening. Someone cursed outside the door. Then it was quiet.
"Get back!"
Was someone telling her to get back? She frowned in confusion and then decided to move back anyway. That didn't make a lot of sense to her, but she did it anyway.
BAM
BAM
BAM
The door burst inward with tremendous force, shattering the lock. Splintered wood flew everywhere but Janet didn't notice. She only knew that they'd come for her. It was time to fight. She leapt onto the intruders back and started slamming her heel into his shoulders.
Except she couldn't seem to stab him with it. The heels kept sliding off the leather.
The leather jacket.
The motorcycle jacket.
"Jesus, woman!"
She slid off him onto rubbery legs. The world started spinning as he turned to look at her. His huge hands gripped her shoulders.
"Janet baby? Are you alright?"
It was Jack.
“You came for me.”
He nodded once, his hand sliding over her cheek.
“Yes baby. I came for you.”
She wasn't sure if she was dreaming or not but either way she was extremely glad to see him. She smiled at him wobbily as she slid to the floor.
"Hi Jack."
He cursed and lifted her up.
"Are you on something, Janet?”
"Oh yes. Lots of things. Water. They put something in the water”
She was babbling as he carried her out of the place. She saw familiar faces in the periphery. There were Spawns everywhere. Devlin was here. But none of her attackers.
She let her head fall back onto his shoulder.
"Did they hurt you?"
"No. But if they tried I was going to stab them with my shoe."
He glanced down at her, clearly remembering that she'd attacked with the same shoe.
"Yeah, I noticed that."
She giggled at the disgruntled expression on his face.
"I still want to stab them for making me wear this trashy lingerie."
She closed her eyes and dozed off. But not before she caught the startled expression on his face as he finally took in what she was wearing.
Jack’s eyes had never looked bigger.
Chapter Thirty-Five
Jack
He had her. He had his woman.
Out. They were out. She was okay. Hell, she was better than okay. They must have given her some sort of happy pill. She sure did look glad to see him though.
He raised an eyebrow as he stared down at her body in that get up.
Trashy, maybe. Off the charts hot? Definitely.
He realized they had an audience and he hastily tried to cover her up with his jacket. He had to put her down to get it off though. So far, she wasn't cooperating with his plan.
"Can you stand?"
She opened one eye and looked at him.
"No."
She closed her eye again, snuggling into his chest. Perfect.
Dev came over and slapped his shoulder.
"We better get out of here before the rest of the Vipers show up, man. She okay?"
Jack nodded and wondered how the hell he was going to get her out of here. Then in a flash of pure brilliance he figured it out.
"Dev, I need the cabin."
Devlin looked surprised but he answered without hesitation.
"No problem, man. It's yours."
"And your car."
Dev cocked an eyebrow at him.
"Can't ride with her in this state."
Dev grinned and chucked him the keys. Jack managed to catch them without dropping Jane
t.
"Actually, could you open the door for me? I kind of have my hands full."
He gestured to the passed out woman in his arms. Devlin grinned and took the keys back, opening the passenger side door. Jack carefully placed Janet in the seat and strapped her in.
He turned to see 8 different Spawn's staring at him with identical expressions of shock. He frowned at them fiercely and they all scattered, hopping on their bikes.
But he wasn't really mad. He was elated.
She was okay.
They hadn't hurt her.
She was safe.
Devlin smiled and shook his head, climbing onto Jack's bike.
"Always wanted to ride this thing man. Have fun at the cabin."
Chapter Thirty-Six
Jack
Janet's eyes fluttered open. She was in an unfamiliar place. Not the basement anymore. Not in her locked room, either.
Where?
Sunlight came streaming in through a window. She could see tall trees outside and hear the tinkling chorus of song birds.
Birds?
Where the heck was she???
She sat up and swung her legs over the edge of the bed. She stood up gingerly, feeling incredibly stiff. That's when the smell hit her.
The delicious, wonderful, marvelous smell.
Pancakes.
There was a dresser with a mirror across the room. She hurried over to it and stared in shock at the wan looking young woman staring back at her. She was wearing a large black t-shirt and nothing else.
Not large. Humongous. Built for a giant. It hung down to her knees.
Was she dreaming when she'd imagined Jack and the Spawns? Was she still kidnapped? Or had Jack saved her?
And more importantly…
Who had changed her out of that hooker outfit she'd been wearing?
Her stomach gurgled and she tentatively peeked into the hallway. Might as well get this over with. If she'd been sold off, she'd have to confront her keeper sooner or later. If it was Jack, she had to face him too.
But first she wanted to eat. She wanted to eat a horse.
Well, one made out of tofu anyway.
She tiptoed through the house- it looked like more of a cabin actually- following her nose down the stairs toward the delicious smells in the kitchen.
There was an old 1950's mint green table and chairs in there. A huge stack of pancakes was on a plate in the center of the table, along with a plate of bacon, a bowl of fruit and a carton of OJ, two glasses, and two plates. One of the plates had been eaten on. And there was an empty coffee cup.
Oh dear God, she smelled fresh coffee. Good coffee too, not of that instant little individual brew cups.
She'd never smelled anything so good in her life.
She caught movement out of the corner of her eye and turned abruptly. Someone was coming in from the deck. Leaning on the door jamb and staring at her.
Jack.
Not kidnapped then. Rescued.
He didn't say anything at first. He just took a sip of his coffee. He looked like he'd just taken a shower. His button down shirt was open in the front and she could see…
Oh dear lord.
She could see his chest and stomach. Hard and lean, with the ridges of flesh covered in tats. She tore her eyes away from all that glorious man flesh to see the glint of humor in his eyes.
"Sit."
She sat. She sat down so fast that her teeth knocked together. He strolled over leisurely and picked up her plate. He piled on pancakes first, then turned to look at her.
"How long was I out?"
"Fifteen hours give or take. You're a vegetarian right?"
She nodded mutely. Jack was… talking. She had never heard him put that many words together in one sentence before.
"So, no bacon."
“No bacon.”
He loaded her plate with fruit and set it down in front of her.
"Eat."
She just stared at him.
"You- did all this?"
He gave her a mildly exasperated look and poured syrup onto her steaming stack of pancakes.
"Eat, Janet."
She did. She put the first bite of pancake into her mouth and moaned in ecstasy. She hadn't had real food in- oh god, almost a week. She shoveled in a few more bites, stealing glances at the man who sat across from her, calmly sipping his coffee.
Then she noticed something.
He had a dishtowel thrown over his shoulder.
Jack, The Viking, had a Goddamn dishtowel thrown over his shoulder like a regular chef!
"How did you learn to cook?"
He stood up and grabbed the empty coffee cup, walking to the counter.
"Coffee?"
"Yes please."
He poured them each a cup from the ancient percolator. It smelled so good. He carried it back over to her and set it down. She grabbed it and inhaled deeply. She'd never wanted coffee so much in her life. She took a sip and moaned. She’d never tasted anything so good in her life, either.
She looked up at him, not sure what to say. Jack was standing there, looking at her. Really looking at her. Not scowling. Not running away.
She'd never seen anything so good in her life.
He looked so clean and good and strong. His long wet hair falling to his shoulders in waves. His tight jeans hugging that insanely beautiful body. His dark eyes watching her watch him.
That's when it hit her.
She was in love with him.
Oh dear God, she was in love with the Viking.
She would have run out of the room if she'd had the strength. This was not good. Not good at all. How could she fall in love with someone who wanted nothing to do with her?
She was an idiot, that's how.
She felt tears sting her eyes and bent forward, focusing on her food. She ate in silence for a few minutes, wishing the floor would open a large hole and swallow her up.
"Foster care."
She glanced up at him sharply.
"What?"
"You asked how I learned to cook. When I was six years old I got moved out of the orphanage into foster care."
Her mouth almost dropped open. Jack was talking to her. Jack was talking about himself.
"Mrs. McNealy. She was my first foster mother. I never understood why they called it that though. There was nothing nurturing about that woman. Unless she was nurturing a bottle.”
Her stupor vanished suddenly. She tried to imagine Jack as a boy but it was impossible. He was so strong and tough.
"She started training me on the first day. There were a couple other kids there. We each had a duty. The girl who'd done the cooking had just left for another foster home so Mrs. McNealy decided to teach me."
"She- made you cook for her?"
He nodded.
“I cooked for all of them. Well, whatever scraps she decided to feed her wards on any given day. She might have been a mean old drunk but she liked a clean house."
"Oh God, Jack... I didn't realize you were an orphan. How long were you with her?"
He shrugged.
"A couple of years. Until the next foster house. And the next one. In retrospect, Mrs. McNealy wasn't so bad."
She took a deep breath, realizing what he was saying.
They'd hurt him.
She wanted to kill them for that. She snuck a glance at him. He was looking out the window. She realized he was letting her in, telling her something no one knew.
"You got away though."
He nodded.
"When I was 14. I'd been tinkering with stuff for years. Garbage I'd find lying around. You have no idea how much junk poor people keep in their back yards. It's like they are afraid to throw anything away. I'd found an ancient broken down Indian bike and been slowly fixing it when Norm wasn't around to stop me.”
He looked at her and Janet’s breath caught at the raw pain in his eyes.
“He was a real cold bastard. He killed a kid once. In front of me. Made me lie to the social w
orker and say it was an accident."
"What would he do if you didn't?"
He rolled his shoulder and turned slightly, letting his shirt slide off enough so she could see part of his back.
She gasped.
He was covered in a blanket of scars. Huge welts. Thick ugly lines with a wide end that reminded her of something.
She felt her insides twist into a knot.
It was a belt buckle. Someone had beaten Jack with a belt buckle.
"As soon as that bike turned over the first time I left, and I never looked back. I couldn't help the other kids. I couldn't do anything but run. I went back later and beat the hell out of him, but that’s another story. Those kids though… I still don’t know what happened to them.”
She stared at the beautiful man sitting in front of her as he pulled his shirt back on. He went back to looking out the window.
"You helped me."
He grunted and stood.
“We got the other girls out too. Sent someone back Dev knows to shut it down for good. A fed.”
“Good.” She nodded to herself and said it again. “Good.”
“I didn’t…” He looked at her and then away, clearly struggling with what he was trying to say. His eyes met hers again as he continued. “Nothing happened with that girl. At the club.”
Janet’s mouth opened.
“Oh.”
That’s all he said about it. But she believed him. He ran his hands through his hair.
"Are you finished eating? I want to show you something."
He walked out of the kitchen door without waiting for an answer. Janet stood up and followed him onto the deck.
The house sat above a small mountain lake. There weren't any other houses out here. They were completely alone.
It was beautiful.
She felt Jack's hands on her shoulders and stared up at him as he slowly turned her around to face him. He was staring at her lips. He was going to kiss her!
He leaned down and whispered into her ear.
"Are you sure you're okay?"
She nodded.
He put his arms around her and smiled sweetly. His smile was gorgeous. He’d only ever smirked at her before, and his face had barely moved.
