As soon as I tossed the bag into it and turned to leave, I heard a tiny sound. I paused, and listened for it again. There it was, a tiny little meow. Oh, my, God there must be a kitten nearby. I squinted and began to look around the ground near the dumpster. What if a mother cat had had a litter in the area, or under the dumpster? What if they were in the dumpster? The sound came again, a little stronger from the rear, and I released a sound of relief that I wouldn't have to crawl around the trash to look for a cat family.
"Here, kitty, kitty," I said softly, hoping to coax it out into the open. Just as I reached the back of the smelly dumpster, I glanced down and saw the tip of a boot. Shit! My heart flipped, and I slowly began to back up the way I came just when the man presented himself.
"Meow, meow," he grinned, slowly stalking me.
It was the overweight biker who'd been with Peewee and Bear. I swung around to rush back inside but came to a jerking halt, seeing that my way was blocked by the other two men. My heart begin to race, and I realized that I was trapped in the back alley with three men whose expressions revealed they were about to have some fun at my expense.
"Here, pussy, pussy," Peewee chanted, slowly moving toward me. There was a look in his eyes that said he couldn't wait to get his hands on me.
"Tommy will be out here any minute," I said. "You should probably just leave." Someone laughed. I realized that it was the man behind me, and that he was closer to me than before. "You know that you're being recorded, right?" Truthfully I had no idea if there were cameras out there or not, but it didn't hurt to put that thought into their heads.
"We disarmed them," Bear laughed.
What? I began to look around. Was he calling my BS? Or were there really security cameras somewhere outside? Bear remained at the door, blocking it, so that even if I managed to get around Peewee I wouldn't be able to get inside. I swallowed hard, and wet my dry lips with nervous energy.
"Look," I began, deciding that maybe a different approach would win them over, "I said I was sorry, and Moody chewed me out as soon as you left. I gave you free beer." That was like gold to men like them. "Please just leave and I won't say anything to Moody."
This time Peewee laughed. "Bitch, you'll be lucky if you're ever able to use that mouth again when I'm done with ya."
"We don't take kindly to bitches that disrespect us," Bear added.
I glanced back at the man behind me.
"I'm with them," he grinned.
The next thing I knew, Peewee was on me. I fought him like a wildcat the second his arms wrapped around my upper body. I screamed, kicked, and tried to bite the arm closest to my mouth. When it dawned on me that I wasn't being attacked to be molested, they were actually dragging me away, I fought as if my life depended on it.
I screamed and screamed and screamed some more.
"Shut the bitch up before someone comes!" Bear snarled, rushing toward where Peewee and I were struggling. He may have been a small man compared to his friends, but he was super strong.
"Let me go!" I screamed, trying to dig my heels into the concrete to keep from being taken away. "Help! Someone help!" The chances of someone being around that time of the morning were slim, but I knew there were still people inside the bar. "Tommy!"
Peewee grunted and lifted my feet off the ground so that I was kicking air. "Put the fucking bag over her head!" he ordered.
"Let me go!" I watched with growing alarm as the overweight biker came at me with a nasty looking sack in his hands. "No!" I screamed, jerking my head back to keep him from him putting it over my head. In the process I slammed the back of my head into Peewee's nose.
His curse was laced with pain. "Fuck! I think she broke my fucking nose!"
It didn't stop the man with the bag. He lifted the bag as if to bring it down over my head, and I kicked out at him, catching him right in the crotch. His cry of pain was followed by him falling to his knees and grabbing his dick.
"Goddamnit, I'm going to kill the bitch!" Peewee threatened behind me. He tightened his arms until I couldn't breathe.
"He wants her alive!" Bear rushed out. He got in my face, showing me his teeth. "But he didn't say that we couldn’t rough her up a little." With that, he punched me in the face with his big, meaty fist. The extra flesh on his knuckles didn't lesson the pain of the blow.
The force of his hit sent my head back against Peewee again. The pain was instant and immense as my teeth cut into the soft inside of my mouth. Blood filled my mouth, tears burned my eyes, and I swear that I saw stars. His hand came forward a second time, and I braced for another hit. This time, though, he was out to humiliate me. His hands went to the front of my pants and he began to undo them.
"No!" I screamed, trying to kick out at him.
"We gotta get her out of here, brother, before someone comes out!" the heavy biker said, getting to his feet. "Then we can teach her a lesson!"
"Help!" I screamed.
"You shut your fucking mouth, bitch, or I'll cut your tongue out," Peewee threatened in my ear.
Bear had gotten my pants undone, and I began to kick out at him to keep him from taking them off me. Tears were running down my cheeks. I managed to get him in the stomach, and he stumbled back.
"Let's go! I want to take my time with this one," Bear snarled.
The back door opened, and Tommy stuck his head out, probably checking on me to see what was taking so long. I saw his eyes bug out, and then he pushed the door open all the way. "Boss!" he yelled out. "Trouble out back!" He rushed in our direction, not seeing the third man who'd stepped back into the shadows.
"Shit, get her out of here; we'll take care of him!" Bear ordered, turning away toward Tommy.
"Behind you, Tommy!" I screamed, worried for Tommy now as the man who'd hidden from him had stepped up behind him. Peewee began dragging me backwards towards the corner of the building. I saw a van out of the corner of my eyes, and my panic grew when I realized that that was his destination. Before I knew it, he was opening the side door and tossing me inside, the momentum bringing me to the other side. I crashed against the unyielding metal, hitting my head and falling to the floor in a daze. Then I heard the driver's side door slam shut when he got into the van.
I gave my head a shake and tried to get to my feet, but fell back when Peewee started the van and jerked forward. I heard the tires squeal as he sped out of the parking lot and onto the road. I couldn't tell which direction he was going. My cheek was numb, my head swimming from the hit it had taken and the rough movements of the van. I remained slumped against the side, trying to keep from being tossed around. There were no windows in the back, and I determined that someone must be following us, because Peewee was driving like a mad man to get away. I swore that I could hear the sound of a motorcycle.
My vision was blurry.
I grabbed my head with a groan and closed my eyes.
I was pretty certain that I had a concussion.
I threw up violently, and that was the last thing I remembered.
Chapter 22
Bailey
I slowly became aware of my surroundings, and although I recognized that I was in my own bed, I couldn't remember how I'd gotten there. I ached all over, as if I'd been beaten up or in an accident. Just opening my eyes hurt. As I lay taking stock of my aches and pains, I became aware of something else. I was naked, except for a wide band that was wrapped around my ribs beneath my breasts.
What the hell? I forced my eyes open again, confirming that I was indeed in my own bedroom. My mouth was dry, as if cotton had been stuffed into it, and my lips seemed to be stuck together. The slightest movement sent pain screaming through my body.
"Holly," I called out in a pitifully low voice. I could hear her moving around in the kitchen. "Holly!" It was too much work to keep my eyes open.
"Drink this."
I felt a hand slide behind my neck, lifting me slightly to the glass that was placed against my lips. I willingly opened my mouth to the cool, refreshing water that coated my
mouth before sliding down my parched throat. I could have drunk more, but too soon the glass was removed, and I was lowered once again to my pillow. It was then that I opened my eyes to the dark, unfathomable eyes that I was beginning to know so well.
I managed a tiny smile. "Thank you."
"Holly's still with the Desert Rebels," Moody explained.
I gave a brief nod. "Yeah, I forgot for a minute. What happened?"
He pulled up a chair closer to the bed and sat down. It was a kitchen chair, and I realized that he must have brought it in earlier. Had he been keeping watch over me? He sat on the edge with his knees parted and his hands against his knees.
"What happened?" I repeated once he was settled.
"What do you remember?"
"Moody—" I wasn't in the mood. "Damn. I remember those biker friends of yours; they were out back waiting for me when I took out the trash." Then I remembered that Tommy had walked out too, and I reached over to grab Moody’s pant leg. "Tommy—" What had happened to him?
A smirk came over Moody's face, softening it just a fraction. "Don't worry about Tommy; he can take care of himself."
I relaxed with instant relief. "Peewee threw me into the van and I hit my head."
"You have a concussion."
I’d thought as much. "The last thing I remember was throwing up."
"You don't remember the accident?"
"There was an accident? No. I must have passed out before it happened."
"Probably why you didn't have more injuries. You rolled with the van instead of trying to resist what was happening. I was right behind the van when Peewee lost control."
"You were chasing us?"
"You think I was just going to let him have you? If he hadn't panicked and wrecked, I would have shot the tires out to stop him. He was heading out into the desert."
"Is he dead?"
"What do you think?"
The dark tone of his voice led me to believe that it hadn’t been the accident that had killed Peewee. I'd seen Moody in action. He wasn't afraid to use his gun to take a life. That ominous side of him frightened me.
"Tommy sent the other two on their way with a message to their president." Without warning, Moody reached forward and touched my cheek in a tender caress that until that moment I hadn't thought him capable of. "Which one of those bastards hit you?"
"Does it matter? They were all going to hurt me before it was over."
Moody ran the back of his hand over my cheek, and I closed my eyes for a moment and enjoyed his soothing touch.
"I assume my ribs were hurt during the accident?" I opened my eyes in time to see Moody nod. "And I'm naked because…?"
"More than just your ribs got injured during the accident. You have cuts and abrasions, bruises. I've been taking care of you the last three days, and it was easier to take care of your injuries and see what kind of progress you were making without your clothes being in the way." Then the ever present smirk appeared on his face. "I've seen your tits and pussy before, Bailey."
It shocked me to hear that I'd been out for three days. It shocked me even more to hear that he'd been the one taking care of me, seeing me, touching me. I knew that Moody had a way of remaining detached; I'd seen it too many times. But for some reason I didn't want him to be detached when it came to me. I wanted him to be effected, like a man is affected by a woman that he’s attracted to. I wanted to be the one that he couldn't control himself around and how messed up was that? Why did I feel that way?
"I didn't think you'd noticed. You always fuck me from behind." I was trying to be funny, but it came off more like a complaint.
Moody's expression didn't waver. "That's the only way I fuck," he said in his deep voice. I caught my breath when he stood up. He reached for something on the table next to my bed. "The doc left these for the pain."
I watched him shake two pills out of a bottle and pick up the glass of water again. "The doctor?" I took the pills without question, and a drink to wash them down.
"I had one check you out to make sure nothing was broken."
"I didn't know doctors made house calls."
"He's a friend." He sat back down. "Do you need anything before the pills take effect?" I shook my head. "Need to go to the bathroom?"
I felt the heat of embarrassment crawl up my neck into my cheeks. That begged the question about what the bathroom situation had been for last three days. Had I even used the bathroom?
Moody must have recognized the unasked question in my eyes. Once again, his lip quirked in what I was beginning to think was his trademark smile.
"You don't remember because the pills kept you drugged up, but you made a trip or two."
"Oh, God…" Could this get any worse? "I don't have any secrets left."
"Don't worry hearing you pee didn't traumatize me."
I didn't even want to think about him carrying me naked to the toilet and then placing me on it. Somehow, it all seemed so much more intimate than the sex that we'd already had. I closed my eyes, beginning to feel relaxed. I think I can get to the bathroom on my own from here on out. "Okay?"
"Okay, what?" I heard him ask.
Hadn't I said that out loud? I couldn't open my eyes, and I had the pleasant sensation of floating. "The bathroom," I said, as if that explained everything. "You may go now."
I swear that I heard Moody laugh.
****
Moody
I stood, staring down at Bailey for a moment. Even with the fucking bruise marring her cheek, she was beautiful. All that wild, red hair looked like fire against her pillow, begging to be tamed, just like the woman. Her ribs were just bruised, not broken, and she had a concussion. It could have been worse. Peewee had lost control of the van because he'd seen me racing after him. Once his tires had hit the loose sand on the shoulder of the road, he'd over-corrected. I'd almost had a fucking heart attack thinking that I'd find Bailey dead inside the van.
Peewee had still been alive, too, and groaning. I'd taken care of his pain by breaking his fucking neck. I knew when I'd seen the Dirt Devils in my bar that they'd meant trouble, because trouble usually followed them. The fact that they’d taken Bailey led me to believe that there was something more going on with them than just three horny bikers who’d tried to have their way with a woman who had insulted one of them. I would question Bailey further once the drugs were out of her system and she had a clearer head.
I went out to the kitchen to grab a cup of coffee, and as I did I glanced down at the counter at my phone to see that I'd missed a call. Shit. I picked it up and saw that Jace had called. I'd been waiting for news about Martin, and maybe this was it. I hit call and he picked up almost instantly.
I skipped the pleasantries. "You got something on Martin?"
"Yeah, after some serious digging, brother. His name is Martin Hale, and it looks like he may be working for himself. My uncle found a newspaper article about a suicide that happened in Cali about fifteen years ago. Seems that Martin's older sister was involved with Graves back then. He left her at the altar."
When a person committed suicide over someone else there wasn't a helluva lot you could do about it. I could imagine the anguish the Hale family had gone through. Jace had said that she was Martin's older sister. Was all of this about him getting revenge then?
"How old was Martin when this happened?" I didn't really give a fuck, but it would help explain why Martin had waited fifteen years.
"Ten."
An impressionable age, which said a lot, and that was a long fucking time to carry around that kind of hate. I'd known other men who'd done shit like that. "Any idea where he's at now?"
"No. He never stays in the same place twice."
"Fuck." That was going to make finding him impossible. "Anything else?"
"Yeah," I could hear the smirk in Jace's tone. "Saved the best for last." I didn't like the sound of that. "He used to ride with the Sacramento Reapers."
What. The. Fuck.
"He left the MC."
>
I wouldn't have pegged Martin for a biker, and with a one percenter club at that. The fact that he'd left his club revealed that they didn't have his back in this. They weren't supporting him, or he may not have told them about what he intended to do. Maybe he didn't plan on coming out of all this alive. Graves wouldn't be easy to get to now that he was a high-ranking politician. Christ, who knew what was going through Martin's head besides Martin?
I was about to hang up when a thought occurred to me. "What about Bailey? Anything interesting on her?" I'd be surprised if he said yes.
"Nope. Clean as a whistle."
"Thanks, brother," I said grimly, hanging up.
I ran my hand through my hair as I thought about what I'd just learned. If Martin was out to kill Graves because of what had happened to his sister, why did he want the SD card? Why not just go after Graves anyway? Unless he thought that having it would get him closer to Graves without fear of being taken down by the authorities. I could see him using the card for blackmail, demanding money from Graves, and then killing him when he showed up with it. He was smart to go after the card in case Graves demanded proof that he had it.
Knowing that Martin used to ride with the Sacramento Reapers made me wonder about what had happened with Bailey and the Dirt Devils. Had those fuckers been working with him? If that was the case, then Martin wanted Bailey badly. He wanted that card; too, so maybe he'd thought he could use her to get it from me.
I decided to call Tommy. He needed to know what I'd found out about Martin, and I wanted him to keep his eyes out for any more Dirt Devils. Then I called Hawg, their president.
"Moody, you fucker, you killed Peewee, my daughter's boyfriend!" he snarled straight away.
"Are we going to have a problem?" I grunted. "He kidnapped my woman," I lied, hoping to avoid having to go into an explanation.
Furious (Nomad Outlaws Trilogy Book 3) Page 17
