by S. Nelson
I made sure to keep my attention on the volatile bastard in front of me, though, because out of all of them, he seemed the most amped up. Not that the others weren’t, but this was on another level. He had what we called crazy eyes. Wide pupils with a blank stare.
I’d known guys like him before. They loved the thrill of the challenge, even got off on inflicting pain. Granted, most of those guys I’d met were in the ring, but I recognized instability and sadism when I saw it staring me right in the face.
“Is she here?” I couldn’t stop the question, even though I’d been warned to stay away from the girl and out of the Reapers’ business. But tonight was different. They’d come up to me, so I sure as hell was gonna inquire about her whereabouts. Every second I didn’t see her made me think the worst. Did they leave her behind tonight or had they killed her?
Jagger and Ace stood to my right, surprisingly not saying a word. Any other time Jagger would’ve tried to pull me away, but after the scuffle last time and then the fire, I believed there might be a part of him that wanted to settle a debt.
“It’s none of your business.” The comment came from one of the guys I’d only seen once before. He had long brown hair, which he kept back in a ponytail, and if it wasn’t for the burn scar on the right side of his face, he might’ve been able to pass as nonthreatening. He was shorter than my six-foot frame by several inches, and didn’t look like much of a fighter, in case things popped off again, but I’d learned not to underestimate anyone, not to make assumptions.
Hell, we had a man strapped to a table in a house an hour from here because I’d presumed he was a good guy. Jury was still out on Tag, and I prayed the research came back proving me and Kaden right.
“Why you so interested in her anyway. You can’t get your own pussy?” Griller asked. I’d never wanted to punch someone in the face so badly before, the smirk twisting his mouth like a red cape to a bull.
“I know you’re holdin’ her against her will,” I spat, taking a daring step closer. “And I know you hurt her.”
“So?”
“It’s a fuckin’ coward who puts his hands on a woman.” The warmth of my rage flowed through me with every word I spoke.
“No, it’s a real man who takes what he wants from all these whores, even when they don’t want it. In fact, I’m gonna take it from her over and over again.”
“Then I’m gonna have a go,” the Reaper with the burn scar said.
“Then me,” Rock chimed in. Unfortunately, I’d seen that guy way too many times in my life. The sight of him alone made me want to knock him the fuck out.
I glanced toward the prospect, but he didn’t say anything. He just stood there and stared at me, almost as if he was too busy studying me to add his response.
“Then when we’re done with her tonight, I’m passin’ her off to one of our guys who gets off on cuttin’ up bitches. He calls it art and shit.” Griller smiled, pleased with himself when he saw my eyes pop wide. “That’s right. We’re gonna get our fill tonight because there won’t be anythin’ left of her once my guy gets his hands on her.”
Right before my fist connected with his face, I saw the prospect’s mouth drop open before turning to look at his president, and even though I only saw his expression for a millisecond, it was enough to tell me he was as shocked as I was with who they were gonna pass the poor girl off to.
There was an explosion of fists flying all around, the narrow hallway where we fought barely wide enough for the seven of us to go at each other. The limited space didn’t do anything but propel us from one guy to the other.
Then I saw a blur of dark hair to my left from the girl in question. She’d walked out of the ladies’ room and right into the middle of the fight between our clubs.
Ace threw a wicked uppercut at the prospect, hitting him on the jaw, and while he staggered backward and hit the wall, he didn’t fall. Instead, he grabbed the girl and held her in front of him like a shield, an action which only served to intensify my anger.
He moved her slightly to the side before he came at me. Swinging his arm back, he pushed her forward, and in the span of a fleeting moment, I heard him say, “Take her.” I was so confused by what he said that I hadn’t been paying attention, and it was during my lack of focus that he managed to strike me in the face, although his hit wasn’t as hard as I was sure he could manage.
The prospect went back after Ace, and while they threw down, Jagger had pinned Scarface on the ground, continuously striking him until he stopped moving. I had no idea if he’d killed him, but before I could even think to ask, Jagger shot to his feet, reached behind his back, and pulled a gun from his waistband, pointing it directly at Rock. I craned my neck and saw the handle of a pistol showing from underneath the Reaper’s shirt. As Jagger reached for the man’s weapon, I tucked the girl behind me, shielding her from the turmoil going on around us as best I could.
Then I heard a shot.
Then another, followed by an eruption of screams from the crowd. Behind us, throngs of people rushed toward the exit, and it was because of the commotion I barely had time to register the flash of heat that whizzed by the side of my head. Seconds later, Jagger pointed both guns at the Reapers, who were still standing. “Go for it, and it’ll be the last thing you do,” Jagger shouted. The three of us walked backward with the girl directly one step behind me.
My arm instinctually reached for her. I thought perhaps she’d either run toward the Reapers or in the other direction altogether, but when her hand slid into mine, I turned to face her.
The moment my eyes landed on hers, an ache pumped through my chest but was gone when she tugged on my arm, breaking me away from whatever feeling I’d lost myself in and thrusting me back into the direness of the situation.
Against the warning of our president, we’d engaged in yet another fight with the Reapers, resulting in someone getting two shots off. I still didn’t know if they fired or Jagger did, and on top of all the uncertainty, I’d taken the one person who’d started it all, even though she was innocent in blame. I accepted the fault wholeheartedly, but I doubted my acceptance would do any good once the rest of the club found out what happened here tonight.
11
I sat quietly next to Lincoln as he drove. When we first made it outside, his trainer asked if they were all okay. Once they acknowledged they were, everyone dispersed quickly, much like the rest of the people who’d showed up tonight to watch the fight. In the distance, I heard sirens, and they were getting closer as we rushed toward his truck. His friends sped off on their motorcycles, one of them almost hitting the side of a car who’d cut him off on the way out of the lot.
I had no idea what was gonna happen now. Would he hold me prisoner like Griller had, or would he return me to them, realizing he didn’t want any trouble with their club after all? A whirlwind of thoughts raced through my mind, and I couldn’t settle on any one in particular.
“Are you okay?” My body twitched at the sound of his voice. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to scare you.” From my peripheral vision, I saw him glance over at me, but he turned away as quickly as he looked, touching his temple. “Fuck,” he mumbled, switching on the interior light when we stopped at a red light. He leaned over and looked in the rearview mirror, turning his head to get a better angle and look at the side of his face. His skin was flushed, but I couldn’t yet determine if the coloring was due to the adrenaline of the fight or if the reddened skin would start to discolor, turning into a bruise from where he’d been punched. As my eyes cascaded over him, I noticed blood near where his fingers had been.
“You’re bleeding,” I said, pointing to his right temple.
“I know.” He pressed his fingers against the cut again before turning to look in the back seat. Reaching behind me, he snatched a towel before holding it over the wound. “Close call tonight. If I’d moved even an inch, the bullet probably would’ve gone right through my eye.”
“Bullet?” I’d heard gunshots but hadn’t seen who fir
ed or where those bullets had gone.
“Yeah. Seemed it just grazed me.” He seemed so calm about the whole thing. If that was me, I’d be freaking out.
“Are you okay?”
“I think so.” The light turned green and we were on our way. Where? That was yet to be determined.
A few miles later, when he lowered the towel to his lap, I turned my head in his direction, praying he didn’t yell at me for looking. Griller would often remind me with his fist to keep my eyes down whenever he was around, and I wasn’t sure if that was because he might feel some sort of remorse for what he did to me if he looked into my eyes for more than five seconds at a time, or if it was another way to control me. My guess was it was the latter.
If Lincoln noticed me staring at him, he didn’t make it known, a small act I was grateful for. Other than Pike, I hadn’t been able to gaze at someone in quite some time, and although the sentiment might seem like an odd indulgence, I was grateful for the freedom to do so.
Head-on, Lincoln was gorgeous, yet there was something strong and regal about his profile. His straight nose and strong jawline gave him the air of sophistication even though he was young. His short, dark brown hair was mussed, sections toward the crown of his head not lying down like the rest. His gray T-shirt was torn at the neckline, and there were spots of blood on the shoulder.
He gave off a sense of calm, even though after what happened back there, he had to still be amped up. Hell, my heart was still thrashing inside my chest, and I wasn’t even the one engaged in the altercation.
“Are you hurt?” he asked, and it was then I realized I never answered his first question.
“I’m fine.” My voice came out as a whisper, but he nodded, telling me he heard me. I hadn’t physically been harmed during tonight’s fight, and while I was far from fine, it was the only word that came to mind.
I was scared yet at ease. My feelings didn’t make a bit of sense to me because, for all I knew, Lincoln could be every bit as bad as Griller.
“Are you hungry?” I watched as his eyes swept over me, my T-shirt and shorts hiding my frail body underneath. My physique was thin by nature, but I’d lost a significant amount of weight since being held captive. There were times I’d go two days without eating because they’d devoured everything in sight. And when I was lucky enough to get some scraps, the amount wasn’t much. Maybe a leftover chicken wing and a day-old biscuit. Pike had snuck me food whenever he could, but it wasn’t enough to keep my weight sustainable. At least I was able to get my fill of water, though, a gift I’d come to appreciate because most days, the overabundance of liquid kept my belly semi-full.
“No,” I replied. Even though my stomach rumbled, my nerves wouldn’t allow me to consume anything without the fear of retching it back up.
I glanced out the window at the world whizzing by. None of the sights looked familiar, but I didn’t know my way around any parts of California, so every city and town would look foreign to me.
Close to fifteen minutes later, Lincoln pulled off the highway and on to a dirt road. There were no streetlights anywhere, his truck’s headlights the only illumination in an otherwise black night. The ride had gone from smooth to bumpy, the gravel beneath the tires crunching so loudly I could hear the sounds even though all the windows were rolled up.
“Where are you taking me?” There was a realm of possibilities in the silence that ensued.
Was he taking me to a police station to report my being held prisoner? This option was unlikely because I assumed all police stations were in town and not off some hidden, beaten path.
Was his interest in me solely for profit? Did he see something in me that would interest someone else? Was he selling me to an even more terrible person than the leader of the Reapers?
Was he taking me to the woods to kill me? Had he realized his mistake after he took me from Griller and didn’t want to deal with me any longer? If that was the case, wouldn’t he just return me to them?
So many questions rattled around inside my overactive brain, but they were the only thing I had to hold on to during the time it took for him to answer, which was only a few seconds.
“The only place I can,” he answered. “Our clubhouse.” I squirmed in my seat, shifting further toward the window. Words failed me, but my fear was on high alert. Lincoln reached over and gently squeezed my knee, but when I flinched, his hand found the wheel again. “No one’s gonna hurt you.” I wanted to believe him, but he’d given me no reason to trust what he said was the truth.
Had he?
We pulled up to a large black metal gate, and after he pushed some sort of remote, it finally clicked open, the creak from the hinges unnerving me more than I wanted to let on. Shortly after entering, he parked beside a large white building and turned off the engine, shifting in his seat and looking at me, but not saying anything at first. Was he gonna lay down the rules, telling me what he expected of me once I was free of his truck? Would he demand I service his buddies after him, like Griller had?
Finally, he spoke. “What’s your name?” His voice was deep, his tone assertive.
“Maddie.” I learned not to hold back my answers, so I responded quickly.
“Maddie what?”
“Shaeffer.”
“Maddie.” He parroted my first name. “I like it.”
I didn’t dare look at him because if I saw he was toying with me, my brief sense of serenity, however misplaced, would be shattered. And who knew how long it’d be before I felt such a thing again.
Lincoln exited his truck, appearing next to me in no time. He pulled my door open, reached in, and took my hand, his touch gentle. No words were exchanged as he helped me down, catching me when I stumbled, misinterpreting the height difference from his vehicle to the ground.
He led me toward the door to the building, and I tensed as we drew closer, trying to tug my hand from his.
“It’s okay.” He tried to assure me, but I didn’t trust him. I tugged again, but he refused to release me. “I promise nothin’ bad is gonna happen to you again. Not while I’m watchin’ over you.”
With the darkness surrounding us, I couldn’t look into his eyes, but I heard the sincerity in his voice and after several deep breaths, and my inner voice working to soothe my anxiety, I was able to believe that what he told me was true.
When he stepped forward again, I followed.
12
As soon as I entered the clubhouse with Maddie, I knew I was in a world of trouble, but I couldn’t leave her with them any longer. And when one of their own told me to take her, I didn’t think twice, no matter the consequences.
While my ol’ man and Marek wouldn’t have an issue with me helping someone, this was an entirely different situation. I’d been warned to stay away from the Reapers because of the possible blowback. We assumed they were the ones who set the fire at Indulge, which was payback for the initial fight, and even though we weren’t positive it was them, yet, I could only imagine the repercussions for taking Maddie. After witnessing the scene in the basement with Tag, an issue that was still in limbo and had me on edge as it was, my understanding about the old war between us and them was clearer.
Walking toward the bar, I motioned for Maddie to take a seat. “Are you sure I can’t get you something to eat?” She looked undernourished, no doubt a result of being with those bastards. Her coloring was pale, her hair, which reminded me of rich dark chocolate, was lifeless, and the clothes she wore were too baggy for her frame, even though they were meant to fit snugly.
“I’m fine.”
“Are you sure? I make a mean grilled cheese.” The faintest of smiles flashed across her face but was gone a second later. There were so many questions I wanted to ask her, but if I bombarded her with everything running around inside my head, I would no doubt scare her, and she’d had enough of being afraid. “You stay here, and I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
Her eyes widened. “Where are you going?”
“I’m gonna mak
e you that sandwich.”
“I’m not—”
I glanced over her from head to toe. “You need to eat somethin’.” My words came out more direct than I intended, but when she didn’t argue, I rushed into the kitchen, hoping we had bread and cheese.
Rooting around for a clean pan to use, I hadn’t heard anyone enter the kitchen because of all the damn clanking.
“Is that who I think it is out there?” Jagger whisper-shouted, walking up next to me and grabbing my arm. The pan I held dropped and hit the top of my foot, right on the bone.
“What the fuck, man?” I reached down and grabbed the pan and tossed it in the sink to wash it, but not before rubbing my foot. “You scared the hell outta me.”
Jagger ignored my outburst. “Is that her?” he repeated, glaring at me with a look of disbelief. He knew the answer before he asked the question.
“Yeah, it is.”
“Mind tellin’ me why she’s here?” Before I had the chance to respond, he grabbed my chin and turned my head roughly to the side. “Christ!” He touched my temple, and I jerked away from him. “One of the bullets grazed the side of your head,” he said, as if I hadn’t already figured that out for myself. When he lowered his arm to his side, his expression changed from anger to fear to concern all within seconds. “Stone and Addy are gonna kill me.”
“Why? It wasn’t your fault.” The bleeding had slowed enough I didn’t need to continually press anything against the scrape.
“It was. I’m the one who pulled my gun first, but that was only because I saw Rock’s, and I knew shit was escalating fast.”
“Did you fire first?”
“No. Griller did when I reached for Rock’s gun.”
“Did you hit anyone when you returned the shot?” I asked, the memory of the encounter twisting and fading too much for me to remember exact details.
