Furious (Nomad Outlaws Trilogy Book 3)

by Tory Richards

  We pulled into the drive and turned our bikes off.

  "Do we know if they're still there?" Cole asked, sitting back on his seat.

  Demon shrugged. "Oz said they had the place till the end of the month, so your guess is as good as mine."

  "Their bikes are probably in the garage at the back of the house," Bull pointed out.

  I dismounted. "I'm not waiting. They've had Bailey a good hour and could be doing anything to her."

  "Well, let's not go in half-cocked," Cole grumbled, anger glittering in his eyes. "Or they will kill her."

  I clenched my back jaw. I already had issues with him for telling Bailey about Maggie, and I wasn't sure that I liked their friendship. I'd seen the looks that Cole had given Bailey, both before and at the cookout, and a man knew when another man wanted his woman. Good thing I knew that Cole would never overstep the boundaries of brotherhood. That knowledge didn't, however keep me from wanting to beat the fuck out of him, but I knew that he was there because he cared about Bailey.

  "You have a suggestion, brother?" I snarled.

  "Yeah, we go in smart and with a plan," Cole snarled right back. "If you really cared—"

  "Don't fucking finish that statement." In a flash we were off our bikes and suddenly nose-to-nose.

  "Brothers!" Demon jumped off his bike and butted his way between us. "This isn’t going to help get your woman back," he growled, looking at me.

  "And we're wasting time." For a prospect, Bull was determined to put in his two cents’ worth. No one paid him any mind, even if he was right.

  Cole and I were busy glaring around Demon at each other. As if realizing the insanity of our actions at the same time, we both took a breath and stepped back. I shook my head with mild surprise at how quickly I’d flown off the handle. Fear for Bailey and what she might be going through was almost crippling.

  "Christ." I ran a hand through my hair. It wasn't like me to lose my cool like that.

  Demon chuckled. "So this is what it's like to care more for a woman than one of your brothers."

  I grunted my response.

  "Never thought I'd see the day."

  "Fuck you," I finally growled.

  "So what's the plan?"

  We all put eyes on Bull.

  I decided that we'd wasted enough time. "You and Cole head down the street behind their house and move in from behind the garage. Demon and I will go in the front way. Look for an unlocked window. Remember we're in a residential area, no shooting unless it can't be helped."

  Nothing further needed to be said. Demon and I headed in the direction of the house, keeping close to the houses we passed in the process and using their landscaping for cover. As we neared the house, we slowed and approached with more caution. I motioned for Demon to continue to the other side of the building to check the windows there, while I moved into position beneath the first window. As I'd expected, the fucking curtains were drawn and it was locked up tight. I glanced across at Demon, and he shook his head, indicating that he hadn’t had any luck either.

  Fuck! He made his way back to me.

  "What do you want to do?" he asked.

  "Fuck this shit." I was done pussy footing around. I moved to the front door and kicked it in, drawing my weapon at the same time, just in case. I sensed Demon was right behind me as we entered the house. The silence that greeted us was telling, and so was the condition of the place.

  Cole and Bull rushed in through the back door. They did as I’d done, their gazes darting around the place as they looked for signs of trouble.

  "No bikes in the garage," Cole said, walking further into the house.

  "Yeah, it looks like they left in a fucking hurry, too." I took in the food containers and beer bottles lying around the kitchen.

  I decided to search the other rooms for a sign that Bailey had been there. As I headed down the hallway, I barely heard Demon on his phone. The first two bedrooms revealed nothing, but what I found in the third room confirmed that a woman had been there. I walked to the bed and stared down at the lacey bra, my jaw tightening at the possibilities of what that meant. I picked it up and brought it to my nose, inhaling deeply and instantly recognizing Bailey's sweet scent. I closed my hand around the fragile lace, feeling a surge of deep rage building in my blood. If I hadn't recognized the floral scent, I would have still had the strands of red hair on the pillow as confirmation.

  I frowned as a thought occurred to me. Was Bailey purposely pulling her hair out and leaving a trail for me? A feeling of pride washed over me that Bailey was smart enough to be that resourceful during a time like this, a wave that almost drowned the rage taking control of my soul. She knew that I'd look for her. She had faith that I would find her, and I would. As this understanding took hold of me, I noticed the straps on her bra had been cut.

  The fucking bastard had cut it from her body.

  "Brother?" I crumbled the ruined garment in my hands and then stuffed it into my pocket, turning to face Demon.

  "What?" he asked, meeting the storm brewing in my eyes.

  "She was here," I confirmed, not explaining any further how I knew this for certain.

  Demon gave a slight nod. "I know. Oz hacked into the surveillance cameras in the area and saw them leaving. Your woman was on the back of one of the bikes."

  "Someone must have tipped them off that we were coming." We began walking toward the front of the house. Cole and Bull were waiting by the door, their expressions grim.

  "Or they have good instincts," Demon offered.

  "Do we split up?" Cole inquired, opening the door.

  "No, we know where they're going." Back to their MC. "We take the fastest way to California and waylay them there." I glanced back at Demon as we made our way to our bikes. "Have Oz locate their clubhouse, we sure as fuck don't want them reaching it." It would be a helluva a lot harder to rescue Bailey if they reached the safety of their clubhouse. As it was, they'd most likely contact their brothers to meet them on the road as they neared home.

  If we got lucky, they'd choose the highway to head home, and we'd catch up to them.

  If we didn’t, it didn't fucking matter to me.

  I'd get Bailey back, or die trying.

  Chapter 33

  Bailey

  The tears had long been dried by the wind that whipped across my face as I rode down the interstate seated behind Martin. I had no choice but to hold on to him, but I hated it, and I hated him. He was rapidly revealing himself to be cruel and slightly unbalanced, the trauma of losing his sister when he was a child shaping him into something terrible. I wondered why no one had seen the sad, little boy that he'd become and done something to help him, instead of letting him stew in hatred and fantasies of revenge over the years. If I hadn't been caught up in his insanity I would have felt sorry for him.

  His years of planning and waiting for the right time to go after Benjamin Graves had been foiled by Jackie, and she'd paid the price. His obsession with me had moved me into first place for his attention, but it was only temporary. He was still fixated on killing Graves. I didn't care about him or Graves, or that he wanted to kill him. I just wanted Moody to find me, take me into his arms, and confess that he couldn't live without me.

  That thought, and the improbability that it would happen, brought a small smile to my face. The man was so stubborn, and he was determined that he didn't need anyone. He didn't have a soft, tender bone in his body, but when he finally decided to claim me I didn't want those things. I wanted the fierceness, and the brutal hardness that made me feel alive, and the way he attacked my senses with his mouth and hands. Moody still had a way of frightening me, but it was the kind of frightening that excited me beyond words.

  I blinked back a fresh start of new tears as it occurred to me that this may not have a happy ending. Hell, with the way we were racing down the highway, zipping in and out of traffic, we could have a fucking accident and die on the road. Where were the cops when you needed them? After a while I learned to keep my eye
s closed and my face buried against Martin's back, praying that we made it from point A to point B still breathing.

  When we stopped it was never for very long, usually just to use the bathroom or grab some snacks at one of the rest stops. In a way I was thankful that we didn't linger, the fear that Martin would ultimately finish what he'd started back at the house at the forefront of my terrified mind. I didn't want to think about what had almost happened back there, but it was hard not to. I'd never been so close to being raped before, and it had left me shaken and aware of how helpless I was against a deranged man.

  I pulled the shoulder of my ruined shirt aside and checked the nick where Martin's blade had cut me while he'd been slicing the straps of my bra. I'd twisted and squirmed beneath him, fighting him for all I was worth. It had been kind of stupid when I thought of it now, considering the man had had a sharp knife in his hands. I stared at my image in the mirror in front of me, the incident fresh in my mind replaying like a bad movie.

  "Looks like we have some time to kill."

  I had stared at Martin from where I'd run to the other side of the bed in the room that he'd taken me to. He’d slowly closed the door behind him. "Don't do this Martin," I’d begged in a surprisingly strong voice. "You won't enjoy it." I was going to do anything that I could to make it unpleasant for him.

  He’d laughed. "That's where you're wrong." Slowly he’d walked toward me, his eyes raking over me from head to foot and back again. "I'm nothing like the clean-cut, mild-mannered fuck you first met. I had an agenda, Bailey, one I'd been planning for a fucking long time." He’d shrugged carelessly. "Thanks to that bitch Jackie, I've hit a hiccup, but it won't keep me from my end goal. All I need is a new plan."

  He'd backed me against the wall. I could barely breathe, waiting for him to attack.

  "You know how I killed her?"

  I’d shaken my head. I didn't want to know.

  "I fucked her to death."

  I know that my eyes had grown round with shock. Was he joking? It was Martin's grin that had turned my blood cold.

  "First I fucked her with my dick." He’d paused for effect. "Then I fucked her with my knife."

  In the next moment he’d moved, and then a huge knife was brought up before my eyes. I’d caught my breath as trembling set in and I tried not to envision Jackie's last minutes of life. He couldn’t mean what I thought he did! As my eyes had moved over the long, wide blade, I’d seen something staining the antler-styled handle of the knife, close to where the blade ended, something red. Oh, shit, was that blood? My eyes had flown up to his as I’d fought back the urge to throw up.

  In that moment, I’d made a reckless move. I’d shoved Martin back and dived toward the bed with the thought of rolling to the other side and escaping the room. I’d had no plan for what would happen if I managed to succeed. There were two other assholes in the house, waiting to keep me from leaving the house. In that moment I hadn’t cared. I’d ignored his grunt and rolled toward the other side of the bed, but that's as far as I got. A large, brutal hand grabbed my shoulder and hauled me onto my backside.

  And then his body was over mine, pinning me down. I didn't know what terrified me more--the knife in his hands or the hard dick prodding into my lower belly. Panic had set in as I’d begun to struggle like a wild woman. "No!" I’d cried out, twisting beneath him.

  "Stop!" Martin had growled down at me. "Or I'll use my knife on you now." The sharpness of his tone, the fear of his words, had caused me to go stock still.

  At this point I was panting out of control, while he appeared in control and grinning like the evil caricature of a clown, or better yet, The Joker in Batman. "Martin—"

  "Save it," he’d ordered softly. "I need satisfaction, Bailey. To make up for my failure in killing Graves. Fucking you will help alleviate my disappointment."

  I’d shaken my head frantically.

  "Yes!" he’d spat down into my face. "Don't move or this could end badly for you."

  In the next instant, I was practically holding my breath. I’d felt the cold blade of Martin's knife against my belly, gliding up my torso as he cut my shirt open down the front. He’d parted the material, his eyes falling to my breasts.

  Slowly, I’d shaken my head, recognizing the lust that was transforming his face. "Please don't, Martin."

  "Jackie begged me, too," he’d said. He’d leaned down and kissed the exposed mounds of my breasts above my bra, dipping his tongue into the cleavage. I’d closed my eyes tightly, trying to ignore what he was doing to me. "So nice," he’d said gruffly. "But I need to see all of your tits."

  He’d yanked the loose ends of my torn shirt away from my body, and I’d felt bile rise up my throat, hating myself for just lying there and letting him do what he wanted to me, but too terrified of being cut to do anything else. I’d felt a movement, and then the blade of the knife slipping beneath the strap of my bra as he sliced it. When Martin moved to the other strap, I did move then, anger momentarily taking control of my fear. That had been a mistake, because the blade had nicked my shoulder, drawing blood and causing me to suck in my breath.

  "Nice big tits," Martin had said with pleasure after pulling the cups of my bra away. "I'm going to enjoy fucking them."

  He’d begun to grind his cock against me. When I’d felt his mouth on me I’d lost control. Crying out in rage, I’d bucked and twisted to get away, to get him off me. This wasn't happening! It wasn't right. When he had then grabbed my breasts and squeezed them hard, I couldn't even pretend that he was Moody. The pain hadn’t morphed into the pleasure that I felt at Moody's hands. I’d screamed out when he’d pinched my nipple so hard it brought tears to my eyes. His savagery had done nothing to deter my efforts to stop him from raping me.

  I no longer cared what happened. I had decided that I wasn't going to just lay there and accept my fate. I was going to change it by fighting for myself. He was going to hurt me anyway. Why not get in a few licks of my own? The knife was now gone, I don't know where. Martin was using both of his hands to try and subdue me, grumbling angrily when I counteracted everything that he tried. I’d brought my knee up between our bodies, but only managed to knee him in the thigh.

  He’d grunted, and I knew that I'd hurt him. As he brought both my hands up to pin them above my head, I’d leaned up and sank my teeth into the flesh revealed between the opening of his shirt. A roar of pain had escaped him and he'd jerked back, slapping me several times.

  "You, bitch!" Again, he’d hit me, glancing down to take in the bite marks I'd left on his skin. They were so deep it was amazing that I hadn't broken skin. "You like biting?" He’d leaned forward, and I’d known what his intentions were. I sank into the bed as much as I could to escape his teeth, and then tried something I'd only seen in the movies. I’d head butted him, catching him square in the forehead. God that had hurt! I had felt a moment of blinding pain and feared that I'd cracked my skull.

  He’d reared back with another howl of pain and released my hands, but he hadn’t gotten off my body. I’d lay there panting, my eyes blurred from the hard hit, frightened at what I'd done. I don't know what I'd been expecting to accomplish, but knowing that I'd caused him pain was gratifying.

  There was a loud pounding on the door before it crashed open, hitting the wall. "We gotta go, Snake! Hermes called and said we need to get back there, pronto! Some shit is going down, and he needs all hands on deck!"

  "Fuck," Martin had sworn, glaring down at me. "My prez just saved you some serious pain, bitch. But make no mistake, your time is coming."

  With that, he’d raised himself off my body and off the bed. I’d immediately reached for the torn edges of my shirt and pulled them over my breasts. I’d got off the bed with as much grace as I could muster, forcing myself to stand in front of him. I hoped that my eyes conveyed exactly how I felt about him.

  Soon after that, we’d left the house, and now I was staring at my reflection in the streaked mirror of a dirty restroom.

  "Hurry the fuck up in
there, or I'm coming in for you!"

  Martin's harsh tone startled me back into the present. I hurriedly splashed water on my face and washed my hands before leaving the bathroom. The three men were glaring in my direction, but it didn't take long before their lecherous eyes were falling to my half-exposed breasts. Martin grabbed me by the arm and marched me to his bike. I wordlessly climbed on behind him and unwillingly wrapped my arms around him.

  As we were leaving the rest stop, a familiar noise drew my attention behind us, and I looked to see a lone biker coming up at a fast pace. My heart started for a second, thinking that it could be Moody, but the biker continued past. He wasn't wearing a cut that revealed he was in any club, either.

  We rode for hours, well past darkness and into the night, until we finally stopped at about one o'clock in the morning for something to eat. I was exhausted, but hungry and thirsty as well, and I had to pee. We'd pulled into the practically empty parking lot of a Denny's.

  "Don't do anything stupid, or you won't be the only one to get hurt," Martin threatened as he pulled me off his bike.

  I yanked my arm away from him and turned toward the door, following Crook and Spook. We took up a booth close to the entrance, and I found myself trapped with Martin crowding in behind me.

  "Order what you want, honey. My treat." He gave me a wink.

  Scowling, I turned my attention toward the menu, all the while stealing glances at our surroundings while my head was bent. I noticed that the restrooms were located on the other side of the restaurant. It could be my one and only chance to escape. I'd eat breakfast first, and then tell Martin that I had to go to the bathroom.

  I vaguely paid attention to the conversation going on between the three of them as I ate my omelet and plotted my escape. I was trembling inside, my nerves shot, but I knew that I had to try. When the time came, I pushed my plate aside and made eye contact with Martin. "I have to go."