by Carina Adams
Before I knew it, I’d pulled through the gate, parked, and was striding through the parking lot toward the thick wooden door. I didn’t pause to let my eyes adjust once I was inside. All I could see was red fury anyway.
I didn’t know why in the fuck Cris would go back there, unless she was trying to score. If she was looking for trouble, she’d fucking found it. I was going to drive her straight to the bus station—after I spanked her ass so hard she’d wince every single time that Greyhound went over a bump. Maybe next time she’d fucking think before doing something so goddamn stupid.
Then I was going to find whoever sold to her and make him choke on his rotten teeth.
As I stomped toward the bar, I caught Jenny’s eye. She looked miserable, her face grave as she tilted her head the slightest bit. Clenching my jaw, I turned, not sure what to expect but ready for anything.
My steps faltered when I saw her.
I didn’t know this version of Cris. I was used to a bitchy, self-centered and spoiled kid who did whatever the fuck she felt like while telling the world to go to hell. The woman in front of me, with the torn shirt, puffy lip, and red mark across her cheek, was none of those things.
She was at one of the tables, perched on Shooter’s lap, his fingers dug into the inside of her thigh while the other was fisted around her hair. Both kept her from moving away from him and she looked terrified. My VP didn’t so much as glance in my direction, too lost in conversation with the faceless brothers around him. The scene would’ve been normal, something I saw in the club every day, except for the fact Cris wasn’t a club whore and she clearly did not want his hands on her.
It was the tears in her eyes, the sorrow on her face, that made my feet move again.
Her eyes closed briefly when she saw me stalking toward them, but she didn’t relax. In fact, she looked more worried when her eyes moved over my shoulder and she realized I was alone. Little girl had no fucking idea what I was capable of.
When I stopped in front of her, I didn’t bother to look at the others or even mumble a greeting. Fuck them. They’d be lucky if they survived the day once I got Cris out of there.
“Brat.” I forced out, ignoring everyone but her, “Let’s go.” I knew I sounded like a prick, my voice full of ice.
Cris swallowed, then nodded. Her entire body was stiff, her movements choppy, as she lifted a hand and patted Shooter’s. “Been fun, boys, but my ride’s here.” The voice that was always filled with fire, ready to fight, was now hollow. Defeated.
The yelp that came from her as Shooter’s fingers tightened was as painful to me as a physical blow. I was going to cut him, take him apart piece by piece. And make him watch while I did it.
“You ain’t goin’ nowheres,” Shooter whispered evilly before he leaned down to run his tongue up her neck. “We’re not done yet. I told you, the fun’s just beginning.”
Cris squeezed her eyes shut, attempting to block him out. Her entire body shook, though, her fear palpable. I didn’t know what had happened before I’d gotten there, but I’d seen the shit he’d done to other women, and my imagination ran wild.
I forced my mouth to move into an amused smirk while my eyes glared down at the old man. “You weren’t here last night, so I’ll give you a pass. You’re clearly fucking clueless. She’s mine. And we’re leaving.”
“Yours?” Shooter barked out a laugh. Cris winced, her face a grimace, as he once again tightened his hold. “You still haven’t learned your place, Prospect. You don’t wear a patch. Nothin’ here belongs to you. Not this club, not this whore.”
My fists clenched. Cris wasn’t a whore. She sure as shit wasn’t his to do with what he wanted. I was going to rip his throat out.
As soon as I got her to safety.
“I could fuck her, right here, in front of you and everyone, and there isn’t a fuckin’ thing you could do about it,” he taunted.
I shook my head once in warning. There was plenty of shit I’d tolerate, times I could turn the other way, but there was a line in the fucking sand. He’d crossed it, and I was going to kill him for it.
“We’re leaving.” I said again.
“You’re a slow fucking learner, so let me give you another lesson.” Shooter stood so fast that his arm knocked the table and the brothers around him leapt away from the flying liquid as drinks spilled.
He shoved Cris roughly, her head slamming into the table as he forced her upper half down, one meaty fist in the middle of her shoulder blades. She started to cry, tears streaming down her face, as he pushed her legs apart and stepped between them. Her eyes were slammed shut, her teeth biting her lip so hard she’d already drawn blood.
“You’re gonna sit there and watch us break her in.”
He reached for her jeans with one hand, but I was faster. I was next to him, my Glock against his temple before any of them had noticed I’d moved. The room quieted almost instantly.
Ignoring my threat, he let out a menacing laugh. “Wrong move, Prospect.”
“Nah. The right one. Shoulda done it months ago. Let her up,” I hissed.
He laughed again. “I’m going to kill you. But, Imma make you watch me do her first.”
I felt some of the brothers close in behind me and grabbed a fistful of Shooter’s hair, holding him tight. “I got a twitchy finger, Shooter. They try to touch me, I’m pulling this trigger. Let her go, and you can do whatever the fuck you want to me.”
“You’re a dead man. You pulled on a brother. You’re fucking dead,” he repeated as if I hadn’t known that already.
The weight of a barrel, cold against my own scalp, should have scared me. It didn’t. I’d known it was coming.
“Drop it, Prospect!” a voice hissed in my ear. “Just fucking drop it. I don’t want to shoot you, but I will.”
“Now, Zip, why’d you go and steal my line?” Tank drawled from just out of my sight. He stepped in on the other side of the table, his own 9mm pointed straight at our VP.
“This is what’s gonna happen,” my friend told the group of us. “Shooter, you’re gonna stand up and let the girl go. Then, we’re all gonna go back into church and wait for Prez to come straighten this shit out.”
“Tank,” another man warned, the unease clear.
“Or,” Tank continued, sounding almost bored. “I shoot. We all know I was raised right. I shoot to kill. Can’t really remember the last time I missed.”
No one moved, no one spoke. I stole a glance at Cris, surprised to find her eyes focused on me. Her face was scrunched, her jaw locked tight. I silently begged her to hold on, trying to convey that I’d have her out in just a few minutes.
“Move,” I growled at the man behind her.
He only laughed again and shook his head. “You’re outnumbered, pups,” he spat the words. “You can’t take on the whole club.”
“I am the club,” Tank argued, a tinge of humor in his voice. “I’m the motherfucking legacy, you douche. You think anyone is gonna stand against me?”
Shooter slid his attention to my friend. “You’re a disgrace to Bean Nighe. You’ll never wear the patch.” Then he ordered, to no one in particular, “Take their guns.”
For a moment, no one moved.
Then, as if they were one, a swarm of brothers approached our table, brothers I hadn’t even known were in the clubhouse. I met Tank’s eyes. If they laid one hand on me, I was pulling the trigger. Then I’d kill anyone who tried to stop me from carrying Cris out.
He nodded as if he understood and gave me a half smile. This was the day it all came to an end. And my friend was behind me.
“Touch either one of ‘em, and I’ll take your fucking hand. Then I’ll tie you to a chair and make you watch while I slice open your sack, remove each of your balls, and make you choke on ‘em while I flay your dick,” Tiny snarled from somewhere across the room.
The brothers I could see had paused again, glancing amongst themselves as if unsure what to do. No one would go against Tiny. Not only was he the size
of a mountain, we’d all heard the stories, and some of them had seen his viciousness first hand. He was a sadistic fuck.
“I gave you an order,” Shooter practically shouted.
“So did I,” Tiny growled back as he stepped up behind Tank.
Shooter’s eyes narrowed in Tiny’s direction. “You forget your place, Brother.”
Tiny snorted. “My place is right here, next to my president’s son.” His eyes moved over the men behind me. “Your sergeant at arms is telling you to make yourself busy outside.” His voice was eerily calm, yet threatening. He bared his teeth. “Any of you mutinous pricks have a problem with that, you’re more than welcome to stay and deal with me.”
Most of them scattered. Some even ran. So much for loyalty and brotherhood.
“Zip,” Tiny warned the man who was still holding a barrel to my head, “Now’s the only chance you’re gonna get.”
Tiny reached behind his back as if he was getting ready to pull.
“Let me shoot him,” Tank taunted as he slid his arm to the left a bit, aiming at the man behind me. “It’ll send a message.”
Tiny nodded, as if he was considering it.
Zip pulled back and I heard the gun slide back into its holster. Without a word, he walked away.
“Get your pathetic ass away from that girl,” Tiny ordered Shooter as he grabbed his arm and physically hauled him up.
My eyes swept over the pathetic piece of shit, wanting nothing more than to have five minutes alone with him. I almost stormed toward him when I saw his pants were unzipped, his dick sticking out. Tiny saw it, too, and shook his head, his disgust clear, as he pushed his VP a little too roughly.
He turned his head, eyes going to Tank and then me. “I’ll be right back. You two better be here.” Then the duo disappeared into the office.
Tank recovered faster than I did and shoved his piece into the back of his jeans before he lifted Cris from the table, gathering her in his arms. She clung to him as if he was a lifeline before she dropped her head on his shoulder and sagged against him. She didn’t break down, though, which surprised me.
I fought the urge to yank her away from him and inspect her to make sure she really was okay. She was probably in shock. The whole-fucked up ordeal would hit her later, and she’d be a mess.
Tiny was standing in front of me before I could finish the thought. He glared at Tank. “What in the fuck is wrong with you?”
I bristled. Fuck him. Tank was protecting me.
“Why would you bring her here?” he demanded. “You trying to get her hurt?”
“You brought her here?” I hissed, taking a step toward them. “What in the fuck?”
Tiny stepped in front of me, his scowl focusing on the pistol I hadn’t realized was still in my hand. I slid it into my waistband.
“Doesn’t matter,” Tiny decided, arms crossed over his chest. “This thing is messy as fuck. You.” He pointed at me. “I’ll walk you out. Get her outta here. Get you both outta town for a few days.” Reading the surprise on my face, he set his jaw. “Neither of you is safe until this shit is straight.”
“I can handle myself.”
“Clearly.” His sarcastic tone pissed me off. “That’s why I’m assigning you to her guard duty.”
I nodded, hearing more than he’d said. Her life was tied to mine now. I’d threatened not only a brother but the VP over her. I’d publicly staked a claim. Cris was mine, at least in the club’s eyes.
I’d never planned to take an old lady. Never thought about it. I’d just assumed if I ever did, it would be someone I liked, or could at least tolerate, not someone who hated me as much as I was annoyed by her.
He turned around and looked at Tank. “You’re gonna stay here, with me, and talk to the Prez. See what we can do to clean up this fucking mess you made.” He sighed. “Goddammit, kid. I had fucking plans today.”
“You can screw the whores anytime,” Tank spat back. “Some things are more important than your dick.”
I couldn’t see their faces but could only imagine what this showdown looked like. Tank had been holding on to his anger toward his godfather for too long.
“I was taking your aunt Candy to a show,” he snapped, insult obvious in his retort. “We’ll talk about this later. Get her outside.”
Tank turned Cris slightly, adjusting her in his arms. Tiny went first, as if expecting one of the brothers to get in our way, to stop our escape. Tank followed him. I brought up the rear, making sure there was no trouble from behind.
“Rob!” Jenny called, hurrying out from around the bar.
I paused, waiting for her to come to me. When she got close enough I whispered, “Thanks for calling me.”
She shook off my gratitude. “Tank was in a closed-door meeting and I couldn’t get to him.” She explained sadly. “I’m so sick of this bullshit. I hope they take his colors. He should have been kicked out years ago, founding member or not.”
Then she held out her hand. “This is hers. It’s what she came back for.”
My brow quirked as I inspected the small chain, with a locket on one end and a stone on the other. “Cris came back for that?”
Jenny lifted a shoulder. “It must mean something. She was trying to tell me what it was when Shooter noticed her. She asked me to hold it when she saw him headed her way.” Jenny sighed. “It was like she was more worried about it than she was herself.”
I frowned at it once more before I lifted it out of her hands and deposited into a pocket. “Thanks.”
Jenny smiled weakly. “Take care of her.”
I nodded and headed out to the lot. Tank and Tiny were next to my bike, Cris still in my friend’s arms. He set her down slowly as I approached.
Seeing her, and the damage that had been done, made my blood boil. Her shirt had been torn wide open, her bra barely covering her. I slid off my cut and yanked my tee over my head before I slipped it over hers. Surprise and gratitude mixed in her eyes as she pushed her arms through the sleeves.
I pulled my vest back on, not giving two shits that I was flying colors that might be revoked or that I was bare under the leather cut. Not as long as it meant that Cris was covered. If she hadn’t been with me, or hadn’t been accosted by the fucking prick inside, I would’ve thrown the vest at Tiny. Or dropped the fucking thing and set it on fire.
I leaned down, grasping her chin between my fingers, and made her to look at me. “You good to ride?”
Cris only nodded weakly.
I searched her face for any sign that she wasn’t. In the sunlight, I could see the bruise that had started to form on her cheek, a perfectly round spot in the center a little redder than the rest. His ring. The fucker had hit her so hard that his ring had imprinted onto her skin.
Her mouth was bloody and swollen, not just from her own teeth. At first, I thought that he’d hit her a second time, then I realized there were two sets of teeth prints. The first was imbedded in the center of her lips from when she’d tried to quiet herself and keep from crying out. The other, though, was over her top lip, right below her nose. He’d fucking bitten her so hard he’d broken the skin.
I took a step back, commanding myself to get my temper in check. Cris was already terrified, had already been hurt; she didn’t need to witness my killing spree. I swallowed the bitter anger down.
I turned toward my bike, snapped open my saddlebag, and lifted out my sunglasses and the spare pair I always carried. I slid mine over my eyes and held the second out to Cris. She took them wearily.
“We should go, then.”
I got on and motioned for Cris to climb up behind me. I never let anyone ride bitch. I didn’t trust anyone enough to let them ride with me.
Cris was different. She’d grown up riding the same dirt bikes her brother had, and I knew she’d be fine. I trusted her, more than I could ever admit. I closed my eyes, pretending it wasn’t a bit comforting to have her behind me, knowing she was safe.
“Katie?” I asked Tank, feeling like a d
ick for just remembering my little sister.
He nodded once. “I’ll take care of her. Call when you get where you’re going.”
As the engine roared to life and I pulled onto the road, I wondered where in the hell we could go. My place was out; I had no idea what kind of blowback would be coming for me, and I refused to put my friends in any more danger than I already had. Cris and Katie’s apartment wasn’t an option. Hell, I wasn’t taking her back there until after I told Matty about the letter in my pocket and knew for sure that Glass wasn’t a threat to her.
My mind searched for possibilities. There was only one place we could go. The one place I never thought I’d see again. The one I never wanted to visit because there were just too many memories.
Cris’s safety was more important than any of the psychological bullshit though. Fuck it. I banged a left and started across the city to head north. We were going home.
10
Cris
I was so tired I could barely keep my eyes open. It wasn’t the kind of fatigue you get after a day filled with exercise and fun, where your limbs are so heavy you can barely lift them, yet your brain is wide awake. Instead, it was the type of exhaustion that settles into both your mind and bones, where even forming a simple thought takes energy you don’t have and your body is sore simply because it exists.
I wanted to close my eyes and drift into oblivion. If I’d been at home, I would’ve curled up in my bed and slept a millennium. The way I felt, I wasn’t even sure that would be long enough.
Instead, I stared down at the asphalt, watching the different shades blur together, wishing I was anywhere but on the back of Rob’s bike. I wasn’t sure how long we’d been on the road when he stopped for gas, but it took me a moment to realize we weren’t moving anymore. Before I could slide off the Harley, he’d put down the kickstand and was hovering over me.
“You want anything?” he asked, his voice uncharacteristically kind. “You must be starving.”
