Forbidden: A Romance Anthology

by Yolanda Olson

  He slammed his foot down and sped toward the girl as me, Prospect, and Tech got ready. We pulled the balaclavas over our faces and crouched near the sliding door. I threw my arm out as Speed squealed to a stop, then yanked the door open.

  Tech and Prospect were out first, and I followed them. We each knew what our jobs were, and we were prepared to fight. She spun around, her eyes wide, but didn’t make a move to run. If I really thought about it, I would have realized it wasn’t the normal reaction you’d have when three men were running toward you, but I was caught up in the moment, intent on completing my mission and taking her for ransom.

  Tech grabbed her and Prospect slammed the rag over her face. It only took seconds for her to go down and her body to go limp. I caught her, threw her over my shoulder, then jumped into the back of the van. It had all taken around eleven seconds until we were back on the road to the clubhouse with the answer to our problem.

  Our VP, Torch, had been arrested on trumped up charges, and word from the higher ups in the police force had come down that they were intent on nailing him, even if it meant adding more charges, simply to show us who was boss around here—their words, not mine. We were one percenters. We lived by our own rules. Rules they didn’t understand. They thought they could keep us in line, but they had no idea the extent we would go to in order to protect the family we had created in the MC.

  I pulled my balaclava off my face and blew out a breath. The girl was sprawled out on the floor of the van, her light-brown hair covering half of her face. Her chest moved on each breath, and the rainbow on her T-shirt stretched with each upbeat. Who the hell wore a rainbow on a T-shirt?

  “She’s pretty,” Prospect commented.

  My nostrils flared as I slowly turned my head to face him. Speed was racing us back to the clubhouse, so we wouldn’t be out in the open much longer. “She ain’t for you, Prospect.” He held his hands up in surrender and opened his mouth, but I didn’t give him the chance to say anything. “You keep your damn hands off. She’s our prisoner until we get what we need. Got it?”

  “Got it,” three voices replied. I may have been the enforcer of this club, but I was also the son of the President. They knew I’d take over one day which meant I was shown more respect. But it wasn’t just because of that. I’d earned it over the years. I’d been around the club from the moment I took my first breath. I’d been a marine and still come home to the club to pick up right where I left off. I’d finished my prospecting term by the time I was seventeen, and had been officially patched in at eighteen. The club was my life—my everything. And I wasn’t going to let these trumped up charges ruin some of what we had built.

  She was the answer to everything. She was our get out of jail free card.

  HAISLEY

  My mouth was dry. Drier than it had ever been. I needed water STAT. I moved my head side to side then slowly opened my eyes. Darkness surrounded me. Grogginess weighed my body down. I was stiff in places I hadn’t known I could be, but that wasn’t the worst of it, it was the pins and needles in my hands that made me wince. I jerked my wrists to get rid of the feeling, but they wouldn’t move. They wouldn’t—

  “Wouldn’t do that if I was you,” a gruff voice said, and a second later, a bright light flashed. I slammed my eyes closed and groaned as my eyeballs burned. “Oops, probably should have warned you about that.” He laughed, the kind of laugh that had the hairs on the back of my neck standing on end.

  “Where—” I cleared my throat and tried to gather some saliva to be able to talk, but reality was, I needed water. “Where am I?” Slowly, I opened my eyes back up, taking everything in around me. The air smelled musty, no windows as far as I could see in front of me and to the sides. Was this a basement? Was I tied to a…chair?

  “It doesn’t matter where you are,” the deep voice said. He stepped forward, and I dipped my head back to take him all in. His dark hair was combed back and the sides shaved. Several tattoos ran from his scalp, over his neck, and down underneath the neckline of his T-shirt. But it was the leather vest that caught my attention. I knew who people like him were, and it had my pulse racing and my fight or flight instinct kicking in. “You’re not gonna get anywhere doing that,” he said, smirking down at me. The kind of smirk that had me wanting to fling an insult at him.

  I jerked my wrists and legs once again, but it was no use. I was stuck on this stupid chair with no way to get out. It was something straight out of a gangster movie, and I was in the thick of it. What the hell was happening? Was I dreaming? Was all this a bad nightmare?

  The guy crouched in front of me, and the musty smell of the basement was replaced with his musky cologne. “Do as you’re told. Don’t kick up a fuss, and you’ll be out of here before you know it.” I blinked and opened my mouth, but his hand whipped out. His fingers gripped the left side of my face and his thumb the right side, making it impossible to talk. “I didn’t say you could talk, Haisley.” He raised a brow, daring me to say something, but I knew when to keep my mouth shut. I’d been training for this my entire life, he just hadn’t realized it yet.

  “Good girl,” he praised, and I was locked in a stare off with him. I wasn’t sure if it was the lighting down here, or my imagination, but I could have sworn his eyes were so light they were almost white. He sneered, and I understood the words he’d spoken were the complete opposite to what he was actually saying. He tensed his hand on my face as one final warning, then let go. But he didn’t move away. He stayed right in front of me, not moving a single inch. He was a predator, ready to pounce on his prey, I just wasn’t sure whether that was me. And I wasn’t sure why I liked the thought either.

  Chapter Three

  JAX

  “How did it go?” Dad asked from the head of the table. Ryder had been President of the Satan’s Angels for nearly forty years. His dad had started this club way back when, and Dad had taken it over when he’d died taking three bullets to the chest on a run. Things had been more openly violent back then. Nowadays though, it was mostly about the game playing. Who could one up each other without anyone losing their lives, but it didn’t mean there weren’t casualties between wars with rival clubs. Right now we were in a peaceful stage of our club’s life, but I had no illusion it would last much longer. There was always someone who had beef with you. It was just a matter of time before it showed up on your doorstep.

  “Good. We got the package, now all we need is to send the message.” I leaned back in my seat on the right side of the main table in the meeting room. Twelve head members of the club sat around it with me, and all other patched members around the sides of the room. The only people not inside were the prospects.

  “Tech, ready the message and get it sent,” Dad demanded.

  It had only been ten hours since we’d taken Haisley hostage from outside her own house. And although her dad wouldn’t have been worried enough to call the police, I had no doubt he was wondering where she was. She kept to a strict timetable and was home every day by 5 pm. Which meant she was now two hours past her home time. I’d known twelve year old girls have less of a curfew than she did. She was almost nineteen, in college, and yet she didn’t act like it.

  “On it,” Tech replied, already typing away at his laptop. “We need a video of her to show she’s still alive.”

  “Already done,” I gritted out, sliding a memory card across the table to him. I was the one who had come up with this entire plan, and yet they were acting like I hadn’t. It pissed me the hell off, but I knew we were all under stress. Torch had been gone for over a week now, and there was a huge hole left in his absence.

  “Any other club business we need to discuss?” Dad asked, swiping his hand down his face. He was stressed out. Bags under his eyes. His hair sticking up in all directions. Torch wasn’t only his Vice President, but his best friend. They’d fought in the marines together. They’d come up in the club together. Every part of their lives was intertwined. And it included their wives. My mom and Torch’s wife had been si
sters. Sisters who were closer than any two people ever were. Right up until the point my mom died from bone cancer. It had been ten years. Ten years since she’d walked the halls of this clubhouse, but her presence was felt every single day.

  “Think that’s it,” I murmured. No one else was willing to say what Torch normally would. They didn’t want to step on anyone’s toes, but now wasn’t the time to act like a bunch of goddamn pussies. We needed to get on with our mission and get Torch out as soon as we could. We needed to be on guard, more so than ever.

  Dad banged the gavel down. “Meeting adjourned.” Chairs scraped against the floor and the room emptied out within seconds. We’d all been on edge since Torch had been arrested, and now, finally, we had a small light shining at the end of a pitch-black tunnel. Prospect was already lining bottles of beers and spirits on the bar top in the main room, knowing we needed them. Tonight we would prepare for what was ahead. We’d gone into the plan with our eyes open, but we all knew it could take a turn for the worse and land us in hot fuckin’ water.

  It was a risk I was willing to take though. A risk we were all taking.

  HAISLEY

  I’d fallen asleep at some point. I wasn’t sure whether it was still day or night thanks to the lack of natural light, but they’ve kept the main light on. It may have been to disorientate me, or to keep me awake. Either way, I was used to sleeping with the light on, so as soon as I felt tired, I’d slept for a little while.

  It wasn’t the pounding music from above me that woke me up though, but the icky feeling of being watched and the footsteps in the basement. I peeked one eye open, trying to take in what was around me, and that was when the murmuring started.

  A guy paced in front of me, from one wall to the next. He ran his hands through his hair and kept them there, I wondered if the way he was yanking was causing him pain. He seemed distressed, more distressed than I was and I was the one tied to a chair in the middle of this damp, dingy basement.

  “Hi?” I whispered, figuring I had nothing to lose. They hadn’t put anything in my mouth to stop me from talking, so I may as well use what I could.

  He paused in his pacing, his back going ramrod straight, and slowly, oh so slowly, he turned his head to face me. He looked similar to the guy with the cologne from earlier, but smaller, thinner, and more haunted. He blinked at me and dropped his hands from his head. “Hi,” he said back, his gruff voice small.

  I wasn’t sure what I should have said. I hadn’t expected him to reply to me, but my instincts were kicking in. “Are you okay?” It should have been something he said to me, but I felt compelled to ask. My gut told me to be me; not a version of me they expected. I’d always tried to help the people around me, no matter what situation I or they were in.

  “I can’t sleep,” he murmured, and his eyes widened at his confession. Maybe he hadn’t expected to answer me either.

  “Why?” It was a simple question, but I knew the answer was never easy. People couldn’t sleep for various reasons, but with the tension in his body and his frantic movements, I had no doubt his was haunting. There was a darkness to him, but more than that, a bleeding pain for everyone to see. It may not have been physical, but his expression spoke a thousand words.

  “I can hear them.” I swallowed at his words and jerked as he lunged forward but stopped a foot away from me. “Every time I close my eyes, I hear their screams.” He slammed his hands over his ears and shook his head side to side, almost as if he was trying to get rid of them. “The bullets, the explosions, I can’t stop hearing them.” A lump built in my throat at his words, and I wanted nothing more than to help him. I wanted to help one of the people who were keeping me captive, the irony wasn’t lost on me, but…he was in pain. The kind of pain not many of us ever experienced.

  “Why were they screaming?” I asked, keeping my voice low and calm, but my heart was beating so hard I was afraid it would escape my chest.

  He lowered his hands and stared down at me. “We were at base camp and they attacked us.” Base camp. That meant he was in the army, right? “We’d been patrolling the local villages all day and had come back to get food and sleep. And then they started their strike.” He pulled in a deep breath. “We weren’t prepared. We hadn’t known they were so close.” Tears streamed down his cheeks, and I knew he was back there. He wasn’t in this basement with me anymore, he was reliving what had happened. How many times had he done that? How many times had he played it over and over in his head?

  It had been nearly six years since my dad had taken a belt to my back, and I remembered it like it had happened yesterday.

  “What’s your name?” I asked, trying to distract him. It had always worked for me. Pretend like it wasn’t happening and then deal with it a little at a time when you were in the right frame of mind.

  “Al.” He tilted his head at me as I winced from the rope binding my wrists together. My shoulders ached so bad, but I didn’t want to complain. I was still alive, and I’d been given some water since I’d woken up the first time. “You hurting?” he asked, and gone was the pain from his eyes, and in its place a clear determination.

  “A little,” I whispered. I didn’t complain, I never complained. “I’ll be fine,” I continued.

  “I hate this,” he gritted out, then darted behind me. Goosebumps prickled over my skin at how quick he moved, but a second later, the rope was gone, and my arms were free. I groaned from the sensation and moved my hands into my lap, rubbing at my wrists. Red marks encased the soft skin, but I couldn’t focus on that right now.

  “Thank you.”

  “Welcome.” He huffed out a breath then scraping echoed around the room. I jerked at the noise and raised my brows when he reappeared in front of me, this time with a crate which he placed a couple of feet away and sat on top of. “It wasn’t my idea to do this to you.” His gaze darted around the room. “We won’t hurt you. We just…we need you to help the MC.”

  I frowned. “How can I help?” I chuckled at the absurdity of it. “I’m a college student, a—”

  “The daughter of the judge our VP will be presented to in a couple of days,” Al interrupted. I didn’t need him to expand on it, because I’d read between the lines. I was bait. I was the thing they were holding to get my dad to do what they wanted him to. It was on the tip of my tongue to tell them using me was useless. My dad only cared about one thing: his job. Oh, and of course his arm candy to keep up appearances. But if I told them that, I wouldn’t be of any use to them. And there was no telling what they would do then. So I kept my mouth shut.

  “Al?” a voice called followed by the squeak of a door. The music got louder and then footsteps pounded on the stairs to the left. The door slammed shut, the music quieted, and the atmosphere in the room changed. “You down here?”

  “Yeah,” Al responded, not looking away from me, but I couldn’t keep my gaze off the man sauntering down the wooden, creaky stairs. It was the same man from earlier—the one with the white eyes.

  “You shouldn’t be down here, lil’ bro,” the man ground out as he made it to the bottom of the stairs. His gaze flicked over me and back again, then down to my lap. “You untied her? Fuck sake, Al.”

  “What?” Al turned in his seat to face him. “She looked like she was in pain, Jax.”

  “Jesus Christ.” The guy ran his hand through his hair, and I tilted my head to the side. His name suited him. “Go back upstairs. If Dad finds out you’ve been down here he’ll flip his top.”

  “I’m not a fuckin’ kid,” Al whipped back, but he stood and made his way over to Jax. “You treat me like I’m a damn basket case.”

  “We don’t—”

  “You do.” He shoulder barged Jax, but Jax didn’t move an inch from the force. “I hate you,” Al murmured, walking past him and up the stairs. I wasn’t sure if I was meant to see the reaction on Jax’s face, so I turned away, giving him privacy.

  The air in the room swirled and my breaths came faster the longer the silence ensued.
My skin burned from his gaze and I pushed my shoulders back, preparing for whatever he would do next. I knew he was watching me, seeing what my next move would be. But I didn’t have a move planned. Maybe they thought I was desperate to go home, but if I was honest, I was kind of relieved to be out of the house and have a valid reason other than to go to college.

  His footsteps echoed across the room as he moved closer, and I didn’t want to admit I was excited to smell his cologne again. He was keeping me captive and yet I was drawn to him. Drawn to his eyes. Which was why I couldn’t stop myself from looking up at him.

  Our stare met, and I swallowed from the intensity. He was trying to keep his emotions locked down, but whatever just happened had affected him more than he probably liked to admit.

  “I won’t do anything,” I whispered, and my voice brought him out of his trance.

  “Shut the fuck up,” he gritted out. He grabbed my wrists, his grip hard and unyielding, then picked the discarded rope up off the floor next to me.

  I pulled in a breath, wanting to say more, but I knew it wouldn’t do me any good. I was here for a reason, a purpose, for them to get what they wanted. Then they’d let me go. If I believed what Al said, then no harm would come to me, but I couldn’t help wonder if it was the truth.

  “I hope you get what you need,” I murmured, and winced as he wrapped the rope around each of my wrists, tying several knots. He ignored me, not gracing me with an answer, so I continued, “I’m sure you think this will work but—”

  “I told you to shut the fuck up,” Jax growled, and my brow raised. He tied a final knot and let go of my wrists. “Do as you’re fuckin’ told.” His gaze met mine, and I nodded to let him know I understood. I’d been doing as I was told my entire life, so this wouldn’t be hard for me to do. He placed his hand around my jaw, keeping my face in place, and moved closer to me. His breath fanned across my skin and I shivered from the sensation. “And don’t talk to my brother again.” He squeezed his fingers and my eyes fluttered closed. There was no doubt he had strength and power. “You hear me?”