Stormy's Thunder: Satan's Devils MC Utah

by Manda Mellett

  The answer it hits me. He’s acting. Perhaps Gun’s trying to get him to talk by threatening me. If Finn pretends to care nothing for me, maybe the threats won’t work. That has to be it, doesn’t it?

  Gun chuckles softly. “You were sharing her fuckin’ bed, Stormy. Unlikely as it sounds, the bitch is yours.”

  “When have I ever had a bitch, Gun? She was an easy fuck. I needed a place to stay.” As much as his injuries allow, Finn shrugs. His eyes find mine and hold them for a moment. “Sorry, doll, but that’s all it was.”

  He’s called me by my name and called me babe. Doll sounds odd falling from his lips. I’m sure it’s a message that there’s no meaning behind the words he just said.

  “Yeah, she’s fuckable, I’ll give you that.” Gun’s voice chills me, especially when the fourth man who’s just entered gives me an assessing leer. “Think we should have something pretty to look at while you and I are getting reacquainted.” His next instruction is to me. “Take off your clothes.”

  What?

  Gun steps away from me, and folds his arms, leaning against the door through which we’ve just entered. “You heard me. Get naked.”

  “I will not.” I feel my eyes flash and my spine straightens.

  He shrugs. “Either you do it yourself or my men will.”

  “Why?” I ask, but my most dire thoughts don’t want him to put it into words. My clothes afford me some protection, little enough, but some. Without them, he and his men could do anything.

  Again my eyes go to Finn, but he’s only watching with mild interest as though he really doesn’t care.

  Gun swings me around to face him. Once again, his fingers bite into my arms so hard they’ll leave bruises. The suddenness of his action makes me squeak.

  “I said get naked,” he snarls. “As for why, because you’re covered in vomit and you fuckin’ stink. Because it’s cold up here in the mountains, and you’ll be less likely to escape. There are animals out there. Barbed wire, brambles. You wouldn’t get far. And because, while I’m talking to Finn, I’d like something pleasant to look at.”

  If I get the opportunity, I’d prefer to take my chances with four-legged animals rather than the two-legged version in here.

  As I still don’t obey him, he beckons one of the men standing with Finn forward. “You haven’t got a choice, darlin’. Either you take your clothes off or he’ll do it for you. Can’t say which I mind—a striptease or a stripping—but I doubt he’ll be gentle.”

  My mind works fast. If I have a chance to escape, I might be able to find my clothes. The man who’s approaching with a gleam in his eyes holds a knife in his hand. If they’re cut off, they’ll be no use.

  I can’t argue, I know that. Four armed men against one woman doesn’t give me a chance.

  I’ve been naked in front of only a few men. I don’t wear skimpy clothes, and even in my own home, feel better when I’m totally covered. I feel audacious when I dispense with a bra under my top. To expose my body to these men? I’d do anything to avoid that.

  Looking toward Finn, I seek a message, a sign of some sort. Has he loosened his bindings? Will he suddenly leap forward like the big bad SEAL that he was and stop me? But his expression is closed off. He’s still staring at me, but as if only half-interested in whether I’m going to obey.

  Another step taken by the man approaching me is the encouragement I need, I don’t want him to touch me.

  With shaking hands, I start to undo the buttons of my blouse, trying to convince myself I’ll feel better once I’m no longer covered in puke.

  It doesn’t work.

  24

  Stormy…

  I didn’t come around until I woke up tied in this fucking chair. That blow to my head must have been hard, maybe cracked my skull from the way my head’s pounding. The pain in my heart takes precedence though. Cat. Where is she? Is she hurt?

  The thought that she might already be dead has me struggling against the ties that they’ve bound me with, but Gun knows what he’s doing, of course he fucking does. I’m not going anywhere.

  Why was he at the house? As if reviewing security footage, I think back, going over what he said. He hadn’t expected to find me there. No, I was a bonus. So, what the fuck does he want with Cat?

  It’s got to be something to do with the connection I’d found between his half-brother and Saul Kincaid. If he was looking for Weston, his search might have led him to Cat. But why the fuck was a former SEAL who, unlike myself, retained his Trident, delving into a plot where Swift was kidnapped as a way to get to Pip?

  Damn. Why did they hit my head so fucking hard? My eyes are finding it hard to focus, as is my brain, and I’m sure I’ve got a concussion. Something’s niggling at me, but I can’t quite hold onto it.

  Saul Kincaid kidnapped Swift with the intention of Pip giving himself up. Pip had killed his twin brother, and his motive had been revenge. Or, so we had thought.

  Pip. Who is he? He’s a disavowed spy by his own account. He took over the Satan’s Devils MC Utah chapter so he could continue to save at least some of the world his way. Admiral Hillier had known him, or at least of him, and had pointed me his way. Pip had his own methods of recruitment. I owe a debt to the man who’d given me back a reason to live.

  Was there more to Kincaid’s revenge than just killing the man who took out his brother?

  Pip had buried his old identity, had had plastic surgery to change his looks. He’d been safe with the Satan’s Devils for ten years or more, but was his past rearing its ugly head? Was Kincaid not the mastermind, was there someone else behind him pulling his strings? He’d had access to a computer expert to formulate the background that had fooled Dengra. Perhaps that’s the lead we should have investigated.

  Could Pip be a danger to someone, someone from his past who was still seeking retribution?

  Just where the fuck does Gun fit in?

  Fuck this headache. The pounding in my temples is making it hard for me to think. My brain normally works faster, but today the dots are just smudges on a piece of paper.

  What does this mean for me, and for Cat? Sure, she’s got a link between her and Tiny, but that’s all there is. Does Gun know what I’ve been doing for the last few years? If he knows I’m a link to Pip and that’s who he’s after, I could be in trouble.

  Whatever, I need more brains on it, more than the damaged ones now residing in my battered skull. I’ve got to get out of here and get back to the club. If I could land this problem in the lap of Swift, Honor or Duty, even Bolt or Piston, maybe they could find out more.

  I tug at my bindings again, they’re tight, but I’m a SEAL and they can’t keep me trapped. I could get loose, should I get out of here now? But what happens to Cat? Is she here, or is she dead back at the house? Gun wouldn’t have taken me and left her alive, he’s far too careful for that. If she’s here, why, and what are they going to do with her?

  I think back to what I remember of Gun.

  You get all sorts on a SEAL team, but what you can trust is that they’ve gone through the same training, and are willing to give their lives for the country they serve. I’d been closer to Tailor and Pooh. Gun had always been a little reserved. Like myself, he didn’t talk much about his family. I never knew he had a half-brother. But who was I to criticise? I’d told no one about the way I’d grown up. It hadn’t seemed important.

  Unlike myself, Gun didn’t openly criticise our lieutenant commander’s orders. That didn’t stop him being called to see Smythe a number of times, returning with a chip on his shoulder about being singled out. At the time I’d just thought I’d been cleverer, keeping my most traitorous thoughts to myself, or only voicing them to Pooh and Tailor.

  Why had Gun left the SEAL team? Was it suspicious that if he hadn’t, he’d have been dead? Just what kind of security had he been providing once he left?

  I need answers, otherwise, I’m just going around in circles.

  They’ve left me here, tied up. There’s a camera
up in the corner with a red light blinking, so someone’s got me under surveillance. If I break out of here, they’ll be on me, probably before I can get to the door.

  If I sit here like a model prisoner, maybe I’ll get answers. If I escape without knowing more, I’ll probably get a bullet in the head.

  So, I wait. It’s up to Gun to make the first move.

  I close my eyes, taking the time to try to let my head heal. When the door opens, I snap open my eyes. It’s two of the thugs who’d accompanied Gun.

  Jesus! He’s sent them to work me over as they immediately start beating me again. Soon fresh blood leaks from my nose which I fear is broken, well, it’s not the first time and won’t be the last. My vision, that was already hazy, is now worse with one eye swollen closed. Having decided on my inaction, I stoically take what they hand out. When I make no protest, they seem to get bored.

  They’re disciplined, I’ll give them that. They don’t talk among themselves. I choke back the question what are we waiting for? The answer, I’m sure, would be for Gun.

  When he eventually turns up, he’s not alone.

  At least Cat’s alive and appears unharmed. The sight of her eases my soul. That she’s told to dispense with her clothes makes me want to rage, but I’m sure Gun wants to taunt me. If I convince him she means nothing to me, maybe he’ll let her go. Or, at least, be merciful when he kills her.

  No!

  I can’t let it come to that. Not while I still have breath in my body. But I know how this torture will probably go, they’ll use her to break me.

  Hardening my heart and my expression, I look impassively through my one working eye, as if only mildly interested when that body that’s mine is exposed. I bide my time thinking how painfully these four men are going to die. None of them will go easily.

  She stands there, shaking, shivering with cold and fear. I want to tell her she’s no need to worry, that I’ll save her, but I keep silent.

  “Good pair of tits on her,” a nameless man behind me states.

  Another, I can see out of the corner of my eye, is adjusting himself in his pants. No, don’t rape her. She’s fucking mine, not yours. But still I keep every expression off my face.

  Gun looks at me, then back to her. “Hmm, I wonder which of you will break first?” He steps up to Cat and dares put a hand on her breast, twisting her nipple hard.

  She shrieks and tries to dislodge his touch, but he backhands her across the face. His attention though is on me and not her.

  “Not going to say anything, Stormy? Not when I’m touching your bitch?”

  “I told you, she’s nothing to me.” My tone sounds weary, almost bored.

  “Soften him up,” Gun instructs.

  While I was expecting it, I suffer through the attack, vaguely conscious of Cat screaming, begging for them to stop. The baseball bat they’ve chosen hits my ribs, my legs and my arms even though they’re tied behind my back. I think my right leg has been broken, there’s a worryingly sharp pain in my ribs, and my shoulder is pure agony as I lose the feeling in my right arm.

  “Stop!” Cat screams again.

  Gun laughs loudly. “Well, looks like this relationship is one sided.” He turns to her, pushing her back hard against the rough brickwork. A small yelp of pain sounds from her mouth as her skin connects.

  “How do you know Stormy?” he yells at her.

  “I don’t know him,” she cries back. “My cousin tied me in the basement. Stormy found me. I’ve no idea how he got there.”

  Good girl. It’s only the truth that can save her.

  As Gun slaps her around the face, he demands, “Tell me more.”

  She continues, “It was a coincidence. He was looking for a place to stay. He found me, rescued me. I owed him a debt. I let him crash at my house.” Her eyes narrow as they land on me. “I thought he liked me, obviously not. He was using me.”

  “Of course he was. I’ll punish him, shall I?” Without giving her a chance to respond, Gun lets her go. As she stumbles trying to regain her balance, he takes out a knife and comes over to me. A flash of a blade and the knife descends sending more burning agony through me.

  “Why did you choose her house?”

  “I was riding past. It looked deserted.” I gasp out, trying to force the pain down to a place I can keep it buried.

  “I don’t fuckin’ believe you,” Gun spits out. He rakes his hands through his hair, and I can almost read his thoughts. He won’t believe me, but he’s got nothing to go on. Even if I’m right and it’s Pip he’s after, he can’t know my connection to him. Satan’s Devils don’t keep employment records, or not those which can be hacked into. Thank Christ he’s into women and not men. If he got me naked, he’d see the tattoo on my back.

  Cat’s crying loudly, tears rolling down her face, snot coming out of her nose. The sight guts me, but I can’t react, can’t tell her I’m not worth her tears, and while they’re beating on me, they’re not hurting her. If that’s my only win, I’ll take it.

  Gun starts on me himself. Maybe my head’s already weakened, or perhaps it was a lucky shot, but my world soon goes black.

  I wake, coming back to myself with a jolt. The first thing I notice is I’m not alone. Cat’s here, naked, purpling on her skins shows her body already starting to bruise. She can’t come to me, she’s tied fast to another chair, and I can’t go to her.

  She’s still weeping, or maybe she’s started again.

  “Cat?” I say, quietly. “Cat, you okay?”

  Her answer is to sob harder, and my gut rolls. Have they dared…?

  She struggles in vain against her bindings.

  I want nothing more than to put my arms around her, to tell her that whatever’s happened it doesn’t matter. She’s mine. I love her. But I’d left it too long to make my escape, my broken body won’t cooperate. Once again, I’ve fucked up.

  If I had gotten free earlier, I’d now have a bullet in the head. At least this way, I can talk to her.

  “Cat, babe. Cat, look at me.”

  “They… they…” She can’t put it into words.

  Goddamnit, they’ve raped her.

  “They’re dead,” I tell her. Then realise exacting revenge won’t put her back to rights. “Cat, sweetheart, what they did…” But how can I tell her it’s going to be alright?

  I want to go to her, hold her, wrap her in my arms and tell her it doesn’t matter to me. But I can’t and even if I could, words would be unable to help.

  She shudders, leans forward and is violently sick, retching until there’s nothing more she can bring up.

  “We’ll get out of here, Cat. They’ll never touch you again.” I’ve just got to work out how to achieve my aim.

  She turns to me, her eyes wide, horror written all over her face. “They didn’t touch me.”

  They didn’t?

  Short-lived relief shoots through me. They might not yet, but they will. I’d seen the gleam in their eyes, the blatant approval of her womanly form. They’ll be unable to resist her, just like me. The difference will be they won’t treat her with the reverence and respect she deserves.

  They did something though. My brow furrows. Her reaction, the way she was sick, I hope all they did was make threats toward me. I can take anything as long as she’s safe.

  “What did they say, Cat?” When she’s slow to respond, I repeat with a growl to my voice, “What did Gun tell you?”

  Her face turns to meet mine. There’s no animation at all in her normally sparkling green eyes. From somewhere she seems to gather the strength to tell me. “They made me stand against a wall and…” she swallows hard, “photographed me. They were fucking joking about finding a buyer for me. Someone who doesn’t mind a bit of extra weight.”

  A buyer? Fuck no. If that’s their plan, they’re not getting away with it. “That’s not going to happen, Cat. I promise you.” I’d willingly give up my life before they sell her as a fucking sex slave, which is clearly the implication.

  I
’m at a disadvantage. Fuck, I should have taken my chance before when most of my body still worked. Have I got something to trade? Information to give to Gun?

  Betray my club?

  My conscience pricks. Cat’s worth the world to me, but can I balance her against honourable women and men? I can be clever, give Gun something. If, that is, I’ve anything he wants. Give up Pip?

  Pip offered to sacrifice himself to save Swift. He’d understand.

  I’ll do anything. “I’m going to get you out of here, Cat.” Even if it means giving up myself, and one of the men I respect most in the world.

  My determined tone gets through to her. Her face rises and her eyes land on me, then she shakes her head. Her words are both mocking and sad. “You’re hurt, Stormy.” Fuck, her eyes are full of sympathy as she tells me the truth.

  I’m hurt, badly, I know, and there’s already far too much blood on the floor. But if there’s a way that’s humanely possible, I’ll get us both out of this. Cat doesn’t deserve this to happen to her.

  Day turns to night, night turns to day. We sit, each restrained in our separate chairs. Cat drops off into an uneasy sleep, jerking awake quickly. I want to tell her I love her, tell her I’d go to the ends of the earth, deep into the depths of Hell itself to save her, but I don’t want to give too much away. The camera’s still on us, and I won’t give Gun more ammunition. Putting us together was clearly a ploy, hoping we’d let something slip. Whatever I’ve got to use, I will. But it will be in my time, and when it’s best to save her.

  The next morning they return.

  When Gun releases her, she drops to the floor. “Get up.”

  “Please, no.”

  We’ve got time, haven’t we? They won’t move her until they’ve got the truth out of me. Let her go, I scream inwardly.

  Gun sighs, giving off a fake vibe he really doesn’t want to do what he’s about to instruct. “Hit him again.”