Demented Sons Series Volume One: Books 1-4 (Demented Sons MC Iowa)

by Kristine Allen

  The door swung open, and I lurched drunkenly forward into the entryway. As I tried to close the door, it kept getting stuck and wouldn’t shut.

  What the hell? Stupid door.

  That’s when the “stupid door” flew back at me, causing me to lose my balance and fall backward.

  My purse went flying, and I cracked my head on the wall as I fell. Stars danced in front of my eyes before everything started to go black.

  The last thing I remembered was a familiar voice saying, “Now look what you’ve done.”

  THE BAD FEELING ROLLING in my gut hadn’t resolved by the time I woke up.

  Another call to Stephanie went to voice mail. Looking at the clock, I figured it was still pretty early and she may not even be up yet.

  By the time I was able to call her again, and she still didn’t answer, I figured she must be at work. She couldn’t answer her phone there.

  Fuck.

  Next, I called her brothers.

  “We’re on our way down in the morning. We’ll have her call you as soon as we get there if she hasn’t called you yet,” Sean said.

  I debated if I should tell them about that stupid fucker or not, but I wasn’t sure how I’d explain how I knew all the shit about him or if they’d believe me.

  Finally, I decided they should probably know. Even if nothing happened, they’d know not to let the stupid fucker in nor talk to his worthless ass.

  “Jesus Christ, man! What the fuck? Are you serious?” Sean yelled into the phone.

  Sam was in the background, and I could hear him asking what the fuck was going on. Sean must have tucked the phone under his chin, because his relay of the message was muffled. He came back, saying, “Okay. We’ll try to get in touch with her too. Do you know the name of that fancy-ass place she works at? Maybe we could call there.”

  “Hell no, I don’t.” Frustration was making me jittery.

  “Maybe Mom does. We’ll call you as soon as we find out anything or talk to her. We’re going to see if maybe we can get out of here tonight.”

  “Thanks, man. I’m heading down ASAP, but I don’t know when my boss will let me out of here.” I hung up the phone and tried Stephanie again, even though I knew it was probably a moot point. She’d definitely be at work by now.

  I was so fucking frustrated I could spit nails and have them stick in the damn wall. More than anything, I wanted to fucking punch something or someone.

  Skin tight and anxiety high, I left the shop and went to look for Snow. I needed to find out how early I could take off to scope out a location. What I wasn’t going to tell him was I was going to make a side trip first.

  MY HEAD WAS POUNDING. Oh. My. God. I’m never drinking that much wine again! I was so stiff I could barely move.

  When I realized my couch seemed really hard, I wondered if I’d fallen asleep on the floor. I tried to open my sleep-crusted eyes, but they were so heavy.

  Then I went to bring my hands up to rub my eyes and couldn’t move them.

  What the hell?

  In a panic, my eyes suddenly cleared, and I lifted my head to see where the hell I’d ended up. Did I break my arms when I fell?

  That was when I saw I was lying on an old cot with my hands duct-taped together and then tied to the top edge of the cot. My ankles were also taped together and tied to the foot.

  Holy shit! Holy shit! Oh my God!

  Gasping, I started to hyperventilate. My face and arms were tingly, and I couldn’t catch my breath.

  Where the hell am I, and what the hell is going on?

  Once I’d woken up fully, I remembered falling down in my apartment and hitting my head, but that was it. Suddenly, the memory of a man’s voice rushed back to me.

  There’d been a man in my apartment. Yes! I couldn’t get the door to shut! He must’ve been the reason. Oh God, why did I drink so much?

  Trying to calm down, I wondered how long I had been out. What time was it? I looked around, trying to see if there were any clues to my location. Every movement made my head feel like it was on the verge of exploding.

  It looked like an old trailer of some sort, with an interior door at the end. So there was some kind of other room down there. An office maybe? I noticed a crappy-looking desk with boxes stacked on it and next to it. A chair with a broken leg sat in the corner toward the foot of the cot with a rolling chair across from me by the desk.

  There were coats hanging on a row of hooks on the wall, but they had a thick coating of dust on them, so I figured it was pretty safe to assume they hadn’t been used in a while. The whole place looked dirty and unused.

  There was a beat-up looking metal door up past the head of the cot. A single visible window appeared to be boarded up, but I could see sunlight seeping through the sliver-like openings. The tiny beams of light were like searchlights to my sensitive eyes.

  So it was daytime, anyway. Did I lose an entire day though? Was it Thursday or Friday? Jesus, my brothers had to be wondering where the heck I was.

  Colton would be pissed because I hadn’t answered or called him back.

  Please God, let someone be looking for me.

  Hell, my head hurt.

  My heart started to race.

  Terrified and panicking, I pulled and jerked on the tape around my wrists but only succeeded in rubbing them raw. What was going to happen to me? Desperately, I tried to collect my thoughts. I needed to think. I didn’t hear anyone in the trailer, but they could be right outside.

  Oh God, I don’t want to die. My little girl needed me. She was just a baby. And her daddy, I’d just found him again. I loved him, and he didn’t even know how much. Oh dear God, sweet Jesus, I loved him.

  Crying, I pulled frantically again at my bound wrists. No matter how hard I pulled or struggled, it wouldn’t rip. The tape was moving on my wrists, but I couldn’t get it off!

  I’d pulled at it so much that the fucking tape had cut into my wrists, making me bleed.

  Shit. Pull it together, Steph. You have to think!

  I started to hyperventilate again.

  Breathe. Breathe, Steph. Slowly. In. Out. Deep breaths.

  Shit, my boob was spasming. Could hyperventilating or stress make your boobs spasm? No. It stopped. It must’ve been in my head.

  Hot tears ran unchecked down my face and into my hair as I lay my head down and squeezed my eyes shut. Between my head feeling like it was going to explode and the stiffness in my arms and legs, I couldn’t stop crying.

  Fuck, I was hurting and scared. Please, God, help me….

  My boob started to spasm again. What the hell is happening to me? My boobs were going to fall off from the stress. It had me wondering if I was having a heart attack.

  Then I remembered.

  Wait. Wait a minute. Shit, Steph, you freaking idiot! You stuffed your phone down your bra! Cripes! I had my phone. He didn’t know my phone was in my bra!

  Then I wondered how I was going to get at it. It wasn’t like I could get my hands loose.

  I cried more but tried to stay quiet in case whoever took me was outside. One thing I was sure of was I wasn’t ready to die, but I was afraid I was going to when they came in.

  Then it hit me that I needed to pee, and I worried I was going to have to lie there and pee myself. Maybe I did want someone to come in.

  Maybe they were going to ransom me. No, because my family wasn’t wealthy.

  At the desolation overtaking me, I started crying harder until I was so worn out that I fell asleep.

  Rattling woke me, and my gaze flew toward the door in a panic.

  If my phone rang, my captor would hear the vibration. Praying harder than I ever had in my life, I hoped no one called.

  The door swung open slowly, and I heard someone coming up metal steps. A man with a ball cap came in and turned his back to me as he began to set things down. I tried to think of a plan, but there was nothing I could do while I was bound like this.

  It hit me that I needed to beg to use the bathroom; then maybe
I could access my phone. That way I could activate the app that would signal Erik and the MC. Then they’d know something was wrong and could track me.

  My heart rate calmed a little once I sort of had a plan. Hopefully he let me go to the bathroom before someone called the damn thing again.

  The man turned to me, and I almost swallowed my tongue.

  Michael. I shouldn’t have been surprised, but I was.

  Because I couldn’t believe he’d do something like that. I thought he was just possessive or needy. Or maybe a little wacko. I didn’t think he would resort to kidnapping. Shit.

  A shudder coursed through me when he looked up and we made eye contact.

  Jesus, he looked deranged. Something must have freakin’ snapped in him. He barely looked like the same person. Of course, his obviously broken nose and the fading bruises on his face didn’t help. Those must’ve been courtesy of Colton. Shit, he did a number on him.

  It almost looked like his eye socket had been crushed, because his left eye was swollen and droopy.

  “I see you’re awake, baby. I was wondering if you’d hit your head too hard and you weren’t going to wake up. That would’ve been disappointing”—a maniacal grin further distorted his face“—because I wanted to be able to see your face when I enjoy the favors you denied me but gave to that piece-of-shit nasty-ass biker. Thanks to him, no woman will ever look at me without disgust in her eyes. After I taste your treasures, I’m going to make sure you know how I feel. We’ll see how bad he wants a piece of your ass after I’ve made you bleed and destroyed you. Neither him nor any other man will be attracted to you then.” His laugh sounded like a creepy hyena.

  Oh dear God in heaven. No.

  When the word refused to form, I shook my head. That set off the pounding in my head again, and nausea rushed in. More tears leaked out of my already swollen eyes.

  Trying to calm myself wasn’t easy, but I needed to get at my phone. I couldn’t let him see me fall apart.

  Breathe, Steph.

  “Michael, I don’t know what you’re talking about. I haven’t done anything with any biker. Remi’s dad is a biker, yes, but we’re just friends. What we had was one night years ago, and that’s over and done. Nothing happened between us while I was up there.” I tried to look calm and slightly pleading. I needed him to believe me, despite my heart feeling like it was going to burst. It was running at about a hundred miles an hour.

  Though the rapid pulse in my neck had to be a dead giveaway.

  “No. No. No. No. No, Steph, honey. I saw you with him. You can’t lie to me. He dropped you off at your car. You were on his motorcycle, Steph. I saw you.” He spoke to me almost like I was a small child he was scolding. God, he was freaking the crap out of me.

  “Yes, he gave me a ride back to my car from my friend’s house. That’s all. I’d ridden with my friend from high school to her house from the little town bar. He was there to see her, and he gave me a ride back. It really wasn’t what you’re thinking.” Please believe this load of crap, please, please, please.

  “Then what was he doing at your house later? Did you forget he did this to me?” He pointed at his deformed face as he screamed.

  “Michael.” I tried a soothing tone. “He didn’t know who you were, and he just saw someone he thought was hurting me. He’s protective of all women. It wasn’t anything special. He’d come by to see Remi because I’d told him he could.” I needed to get him to calm down long enough for me to use my phone.

  “I need to go to the bathroom. Is there a bathroom I can use?” Then I needed to try to hold my sanity together. Oh, and keep him from raping me and torturing me.

  Yeah, piece of cake. Holy shit, I was so screwed. Totally not how I thought my life would go.

  He pulled out a wicked-looking knife from the pile of things he’d set inside the door. When he began to walk toward me with it, panic blossomed.

  Oh God, Colton, I’m so sorry I didn’t give credence to your worries about this crazy asshole.

  Sweat broke out between my shoulder blades and across my brow. Though I was terrified, I was desperately trying to keep him from seeing how truly shaken I was. My mind shouted at me to fight, yell, do something, but I was paralyzed as I watched him come closer.

  The razor-sharp tip touched the sensitive skin under my jaw. My breath was erratic, and I was on the verge of screaming. Despite my valiant efforts, tears formed in the corners of my eyes from both the pain and fear.

  If anyone had asked me if you could taste fear, I would’ve looked at them and laughed. Now I could tell you fear did have a taste.

  Fear was metallic and acidic.

  Fear dried your mouth, preventing words from forming on your lips.

  Fear smelled too. It smelled like ash.

  “You better not try anything stupid, Steph. There is nowhere for you to go, and no one will hear you if you scream. But I’ll have to punish you if you do, because you will have disobeyed me. Don’t piss me off, Steph. Don’t make me kill you….” Seeming to derive great pleasure in his actions, he pushed the tip of the blade farther in until a warm trickle ran down the side of my neck.

  I whimpered and tried not to cry. Or move much.

  “Please, I won’t do anything stupid. I promise,” I whispered.

  He sliced through the rope tying my wrists to the cot and then the tape at my feet. He left the tape around my wrists and dragged me back to the door by it. The movement caused my wrists to burn.

  After he opened the door, he flung me through the doorway. There was nothing in the room except for some old cloth tarps piled in a corner. I looked at him in question, wondering how the heck I was supposed to go to the bathroom.

  “Wait here,” he ordered as he turned back to the main room, returning with a paint-splattered five-gallon bucket and a roll of toilet paper. He dropped the bucket against the wall and handed me the roll, then stood there looking at me.

  “Um, can I have a little privacy? It’s not like I can go anywhere.” I gestured toward the windowless walls. Where the hell did he think I was going to go?

  I needed him out of the room so I could use my phone, and I sure as shit didn’t want to have to pee in front of him. How fricking humiliating!

  “Don’t try anything sneaky, Steph. I’m not in the mood.”

  “I won’t.” I tried to look meek and submissive.

  He gave me a glare and backed out of the room, closing the door. Breathing a sigh of relief, I worked my bound hands to get my phone from my bra. I fumbled it as I pulled it out, and it slipped from my hand. Thankfully, I caught it against my chest with my forearms.

  Oh my God, that was close. Trying to multitask, I pulled down my jeans and perched on the bucket. Jesus, it was uncomfortable. The edge of the bucket painfully dug into my ass and legs. As I peed, I opened my phone, turning it completely silent with no vibration.

  First, I sent a group message to Erik, Colton, and my brothers.

  Me: help me locator activated

  There was so much more I wanted to say, but I didn’t want to waste precious time or get caught.

  Then I went to the locator app, clicking on it to send off the signal like they showed me.

  Noticing my battery life was low, I prayed they’d get the message and info before it died.

  Not sure where to put it, I set the phone on the ground. Trying to hurry, I shoved it under the tarps with one foot before trying to grab for the toilet paper. The bucket wobbled as I reached, and I almost fell over.

  “What’s taking you so long?” Michael asked through the door as the doorknob rattled.

  “Wait! I’m just trying to wipe. It’s difficult with my hands like this.” Dickhole.

  Thankfully, he didn’t come in. I was able to wipe and drop the paper in the bucket.

  I was so glad I didn’t tip the bucket as I got off it. Taking one last glance to make sure my phone was completely covered, I buttoned my pants.

  The door burst open, and he looked around like he thought
I was up to something. Thank goodness I’d been able to get my pants done up. It was my only protective barrier between us. I didn’t have much, so I clung to what I had.

  Snarling, he jerked me by my wrists back out to the room. He pushed me onto the cot, where I landed on my bound wrists, falling forward on my face. Though it was a struggle, I was able to push myself back into a sitting position with my back against the wall.

  Warily, I watched as he paced in the small space. The knife sat on the edge of the desk, making me wish my hands weren’t bound. Of course, I had no idea if I could get to it before he stopped me.

  The more important question was if I could I actually stab him if it came down to it. I didn’t know, but I needed to figure out something in case they didn’t find me for a while.

  IT WAS ABOUT SIX o’clock Friday night when I pulled in to Des Moines. I met up with Sam and Sean at Stephanie’s apartment.

  After I’d received their message earlier, I could barely contain my anger and fear. Snow let me head out early after I told him what was going on, so I grabbed my go-bag and then hit the road.

  The whole way down, their words ran like a taunting mantra through my head: “She’s gone.”

  Steph’s apartment door had been ajar when they’d arrived. They’d cautiously pushed the door open to find her purse with the contents scattered across the floor. The small table inside the doorway was knocked sideways with her mail toppled off and scattered as well.

  Steph hadn’t answered anyone’s phone calls or text messages since early last night, and her phone was missing. I prayed she had it on her, and I had Hacker trying to track it. She hadn’t initiated the locator app. That made me worried that whoever had her also had her fucking phone.

  Shit. Damn it, Steph, where the fuck are you?

  Her brothers had already contacted the police, but since we didn’t know how long she’d actually been gone, they said there was nothing they could do until an official twenty-four hours had passed. They also said that she was a grown adult and may have just wanted to be alone.

  Fucking lazy-ass cops. Assholes.