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Defining Darkness (Royal Bastards MC Tampa Chapter Book 1)

Page 3

by K E Osborn


  As I approach, the right-hand door is already open from when Void entered, so I walk through the dimly lit bunker. Even though it’s late at night, we still don’t light up the place. We keep it lit enough to see, but still dull enough that it doesn’t affect my mood.

  My brothers understand, but some of the other chapters think I’m strange. They don’t know where my love of the dark comes from.

  They don’t know me.

  They don’t know my past.

  They don’t need to.

  The ones who do, understand.

  That’s all that matters.

  Eva is a lightweight in my arms, and as I take her inside, the clubhouse is in full swing. Music blasts from the speakers, unsettling my damn nerves. I glance down, making sure she isn’t waking, but she just cuddles into me further as I turn right for the hallway. I notice everyone watching me with her, but honestly, I don’t give two shits about what they think.

  I’m Nycto, President of the Tampa Royal Bastards, and I’ll do what I fucking want.

  Anytime I fucking want.

  And right now, I want Eva locked away in my room.

  As I enter the hall, I make my way for the first bedroom. Mine’s closest to the exit because I need to be the first call to action if shit hits the fan. Reaching my door, I fumble with the handle, somehow opening it with her still in my arms. I walk through, the noise of the outside quieting down with the reinforced walls. The red LED night light is on sending a deep orange hue around my room. It lights up Eva’s face, making her seem more like a devil than the angel I know she is. The thought sends a rush of excitement through me as I walk her to my bed. The pedestal fan spins slowly, sending a slight breeze through the room. With no windows and the Tampa heat, it gets stuffy in here quickly, but I don’t mind a little humidity.

  Lying her down on my black sheets, I place her head carefully on my pillow. My Adam’s apple bobs up and down as I take in the fact a woman is on my bed. The thought unsettles me for a moment, so I turn, walking to my door, making sure to lock it.

  I spin back to face her.

  The sight nearly knocks me off my feet.

  Her dark auburn hair fans out over the crisp black pillowcase.

  I stand back, watching her, taking her in. Every detail of her face. Every freckle. Every imperfection only making her more perfect.

  She could fast become an obsession.

  What am I saying—she is an obsession.

  I might have saved her from Andrés, but who will save her from me?

  Chapter Four

  EVA

  My head’s a fog, my stomach churns, and I’m all kinds of out of it. A very dull thumping of music drones in the background as my memory comes crashing back to me.

  I was taken.

  Abducted.

  Ivy was torn away from me.

  My eyes fling open, and the biker who took me stares at me from the other side of some weird room. I sit up in a hurry, scrambling back on the bed to get away from him. The red lighting in the room makes me feel like I’m in some kind of dungeon, or worse, a damn brothel.

  Oh God, is that where I’ve been taken?

  His hands come up in a placating manner, but it doesn’t soothe me.

  I’m terrified.

  “Where am I?”

  He exhales, taking a step closer, but I don’t back away this time.

  “You’re in my room.”

  Gulping a lump down my throat, my eyes shift around the medium-size space. Because the lighting is so dull, it takes me a little while to adjust my sight. There are no windows, only gray walls enclosing me in a confined space.

  There are two doors.

  My heart hammers in my chest as I take it all in as quickly as I can.

  Two possible chances of escape.

  The bed I’m sitting on is large, probably a king, and it takes up most of the room. A long rectangular desk sits against the wall, a closet is between the two doors, and on the wall next to the bed hangs a large television. It’s cozy, I suppose. I guess it has everything you need, but I still don’t know why the hell I’m in his room.

  “Am I in America?”

  He dips his chin. “Tampa.”

  I gnaw on my bottom lip. “Why here?”

  “Does it matter—”

  “Where’s my sister? Is she here, too?”

  He storms toward me, my eyes opening wide at the anger etched on his face. “You ask too many questions for a captured girl.” He stops at the edge of the bed but doesn’t move to touch me.

  Is it absurd I wish he would?

  “You, sir, don’t answer enough!” I point my finger directly into his chest, jabbing a few times.

  He runs his hand through his thick head of hair. “You shouldn’t be here. I shouldn’t have done this.” He turns, letting out a huff.

  Panic washes through me.

  I’m unsure what he means by that, but for some reason, I edge closer to him. “Done what?”

  He turns back to me, his eyes widening when he sees I’ve edged closer. Softening his stiff posture, he exhales. “I took you. I was supposed to deliver you to someone, but… I didn’t.”

  My head jerks back at his answer. “I-I don’t understand.”

  He pinches the bridge of his nose. “Neither do fucking I.”

  “My sister?” I beg, sitting up on my knees, desperation in my voice.

  He turns his lip up at me. “She’s gone.”

  Fear cripples me, but somehow, I manage to jump from the bed right in front of him, my hands gripping onto the leather of his cut and shake him. “What do you mean?”

  He grabs my wrists, yanking my hands free. The second his hands touch me, a spark shoots up my arms slamming straight into my chest. I gasp at the shock as he throws me onto the bed. “Don’t you ever, and I mean ever, touch my cut without my permission,” he pants out like he’s having trouble breathing as we stare at each other.

  My eyes lock onto his chocolate orbs.

  I should be scared of him.

  I should be quaking in my damn shoes.

  But there’s something, something about this man that has my heart racing.

  He puts up a front. He’s built a wall, bricking himself over to the world. I’m not sure why. I don’t know him well enough, but I do know something’s happened to make him this way. I see right through him.

  His eyes give him away.

  The spark of light shining through, it’s like a beacon of hope.

  I sit up slowly. He watches me, trying to gauge my next move. I stand back in front of him while his eyes don’t leave me, even a second, as I place my hand over his chest. He jerks his head back in shock.

  I swallow a lump in my throat, my pulse racing so hard I feel like my veins might burst. “I see you.” His forehead crinkles like he can’t read me at all. “Tell me your name,” I whisper.

  His nostrils flare as he takes my hand, more gently this time, removing it from his chest, but he doesn’t let my hand go. Instead, his thumb grazes over my skin. The tightness in his expression shows he’s internally struggling with something.

  “You’re an enigma, Chiquita.”

  I can’t describe the feelings running through me.

  I’m terrified.

  But I am calm.

  Something about him soothes me. “Please?” I beg.

  His hand tightens on mine as he clenches his eyes shut, his face scrunching like he’s annoyed, but he opens his eyes, and light shines back at me. Moving his other hand up, he slides a strand of hair behind my ear. I let him because I don’t have the willpower right now to stop him.

  His eyes are drawing me in.

  I’m trapped in his intense stare.

  There’s something equally as haunting as there is enlightening about his eyes.

  I want to know everything about him.

  But first—his name.

  “Please, what’s your name?”

  “Nycto,” he replies.

  I tilt my head in confusio
n. “Is that a nickname?”

  “My road name.”

  Exhaling, I lick my bottom lip. I want to know the man, not some damn persona he portrays. “What’s your real name?” I ask gently.

  The light dims from his eyes. I see it, the moment the wall goes back up.

  I’ve lost him.

  Nycto drops his hand from mine, taking a step back. “That’s not for you to know.” His gruff tone is back.

  Anger swarms through me. Dammit, I thought we were making progress. If the bastard wants to shut down, so can I. “Where. Is. My. Sister?” I ask forcefully.

  He grunts, turning away from me, walking over to his desk and putting distance between us. “She was sold.”

  “What do you mean?” I whisper.

  Nycto faces me, his eyes not meeting mine. “That’s all you need to know. She’s gone, Eva.”

  Tears flood my eyes, but I blink them away as an overwhelming sense of heaviness weighs on my shoulders. I told her I would always protect her. Ivy’s my baby sister. Sure, she just turned twenty-one, but she’s still so young at heart. She doesn’t comprehend the world like I do. I had to grow up quickly when our parents died. I became the adult. Ivy doesn’t know how to survive, not on her own.

  “Why didn’t you take her in? Why me? She needs protecting, not me,” I yell at him.

  “She’s not like you, Eva.”

  “What the hell does that even mean?” I throw my hands in the air.

  Nycto stalks over to me again. My skin prickles in goosebumps at the way he’s watching me. My breathing hitches the closer he gets.

  Stupid reactive body.

  “You’re not suitable for that life. You’re too… good. Too pure. I couldn’t stand watching you go to them.”

  “Them? Who’s them?”

  Nycto runs his hands through his hair in frustration. “This is going nowhere. You’re staying here, in this room, until I tell you it’s safe to come out. Your sister’s gone. Grieve. Scream. Deal the fuck with it however you need to. Just get used to the fact your life is here now.”

  With a loud groan, I push him hard in the chest. He takes a step back, and I take one forward getting right up in his face. “Tú hijo de puta . You think I can just let my sister go? She is everything to me. Everything! All I have left.”

  “Well, now, Chiquita, I’m all you have left. Deal with it!”

  He turns, heading for the door. I follow him, my feet stomping like lead weights. “Nycto!” He doesn’t stop. “Nycto, if you keep me here, I will make your life a living hell. This. I. Promise. You.”

  He turns back to face me. “I’m already in hell, sweetheart.” With a flick of the handle, he opens the door, moving to exit. I rush forward, but he’s too quick. Nycto slams the door keeping me inside his room. I slam my fists on the door, banging as hard as I can. “Nycto! Nycto! You can’t keep me locked in here forever. You need to get my sister back. Please! Please just get my sister! Nyctooo,” I scream, but it’s of no use. I grapple with the door handle, but the door won’t budge.

  The bastard’s locked me inside.

  I sniffle, turning, then slide down the door. My eyes glisten as I take in my new prison. I don’t know where I would be right now if Nycto hadn’t taken me, but maybe I would have been with Ivy. Anywhere would have to be better than being locked in here. Even if my captor somehow sets my heart racing and tingles run all over my skin when he’s near.

  What’s even with that? Honestly, I have no idea where my mind is.

  Why is he keeping me locked up in here? I don’t even know where here is. All I know is it’s a bedroom with no windows. I mean who in their right mind lives in something like this?

  I can’t sit around wallowing.

  I have to fight.

  I need to do something.

  So, I stand and go in search. I need to find something to break me out of this room. I head to the desk first, open the drawers, but there’s nothing in them except for some notebooks, pens, a packet of cigarettes, and a fucking line of condom foils. I grimace, throwing them back in the drawer wishing I could disinfect my hands. Sliding the drawer closed, I turn, noticing the other door. My chest squeezes. Surely, it’s not another way out. Luck hasn’t been on my side today, so I doubt it’s going to be with me right now, but there’s no harm in trying.

  With quick steps, I make my way over to the door and turn the handle, creaking the door open very slowly. The room is dark, so I search around for a light switch, flicking it on. A dull hue lights the room, and I scrunch up my face.

  What the hell is with the lighting in this place?

  Is this guy nocturnal or something?

  As I take in the room, the basin hits me first. There’s a dark black bowl with copper faucet. I take in the tiles on the floor, black and white diamonds leading to a spacious shower alcove. A black feature wall lines the space where brass fixtures are fitted for the faucets and showerhead. A clear half-screen comes across from the floor to ceiling.

  I had no idea what was behind this door, but, of course, a bathroom makes sense.

  This room is something Ivy would love—the masculine industrial look.

  I move to the edge of the basin staring into the mirror.

  I’m a mess.

  My hair is knotted. There are mascara lines down my cheeks. Blotches in places they shouldn’t be.

  Why Nycto chose me over Ivy astounds me.

  A few tears run down my face as I think of my sister and what she may be going through.

  She must be so scared.

  I wish I were with her.

  I want to be there to help her through whatever hell she’s in right now.

  All I know is, if I ever get out of here, I’m going to do everything in my power to find her.

  Hold on, Ivy. Hold on.

  Chapter Five

  NYCTO

  It’s been a long-ass night. My head’s all over the place. Having that moment with Eva in my room has confused me, though it solidified the fact I did the right thing in bringing her here. She isn’t the rollover-and-do-what-you’re-told kind of woman Andrés normally requests. Honestly, I have no idea how she was picked to be one of his packages. The only thing I can think of is it’s because Eva would go searching and maybe kick up a storm. Generally, the women Andrés sells are loners, women who won’t be missed, women who have no one in their lives. It makes it easy for him that way. Women who are forgotten quickly, therefore, make no waves. He’s all for the quick, easy, and dirty.

  With Eva’s tenacity, she wouldn’t stop until she found Ivy. So, if Andrés wanted Ivy so badly, he had to take Eva—a package deal. I’m beginning to see that now. My concern? What’s so intoxicating about Ivy that Andrés would take on someone like Eva to ensure he acquires her? I have no answer, but it’s burning like fire in my mind.

  Walking past the stairs to the lower bunker, I glimpse down. The lights are on. I realize Void’s down there with the cargo. I know I have to check that situation out as soon as possible, but first, I need a shot of something.

  Striding up to the bar, Pepper’s serving. The one shoulder, black lacy see-through bodysuit she’s wearing isn’t doing it for me today. Don’t get me wrong, Pepper’s fucking sexy as hell. With her long, chocolate brown hair flowing over her back, and her dark shadowed eyes looking me up and down as I walk up, she’s letting me know she’s ready for anything I ask of her, but today, I’m not feeling it. All I can think about is Eva in my room and how much she’s affecting me.

  “Rough night, Prez?” Pepper asks in her sickly-sweet voice. She grabs the tequila bottle, which is exactly what I need right now, and starts filling a shot glass, then Pepper slides it over to me.

  I grab the glass, tilting my head in acknowledgment, then straight down the hatch. The liquid burns, but I welcome the intrusion, letting out a groan as I slide the glass back to her.

  “Top up?” she asks.

  “Would love one, but I got shit I gotta handle. Get ready for me la
ter, though. I’m gonna need a whole freaking keg by the time this night is through.”

  She weakly smiles. “You got this, Prez. You always do.”

  Pepper’s faith in me feels good. I’m glad someone thinks I am doing something right, even if Pepper doesn’t understand the full story. “Thanks, Pep.”

  I spin on my heels, heading straight for the stairs. I need to deal with the cargo and talk with Void. See what the situation is before he has a damn coronary, and I’m down one VP. Stomping down the stairs, my tension levels are through the roof. All I want to do is go back up to my room and settle things with Eva.

  I left on a bad note.

  Somehow, I need to earn her trust, but how can I do that when I’m blatantly lying to her? I’m in over my head. Any damn minute I’ll be getting a call from Andrés. That’s a certainty. I need to play my cards right where he’s concerned. Maybe I should ride out to see him. Try and smooth this pile of shit over. It would appear more legit if I did.

  And I will—right after this.

  Walking into the Bricking Room, Void’s sitting outside of the Brick Cell with his head in his hands. Exhaling, I stride up to him.

  Void’s eyes shoot up to meet mine as he grits his teeth. “I sure hope you know what you’re fucking doing.”

  Rolling my shoulders, my eye twitches—I hope so too.

  “Is the cargo secure?”

  Void stands, letting out an exacerbated exhale. “Yeah.”

  “Then open the door.”

  Void pulls on the giant wall made of bricks to open up a small cell. It’s dimly lit, but it has a bed, a sofa, a television, bar fridge, and a bathroom set-up in the corner. It has a metal pole in the middle of the wall running horizontally all the way around, with a set of handcuff chains linked to the metal bar. From there, you can locate everything in the room. You just have to walk around to reach what you want. It’s like a private hotel suite, but make no mistake, it’s a prison.

 

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