“Knock it off,” he growled. All he got in return was the brunt of a surprisingly strong fist that struck the middle of his back, just over his kidney. He muttered a curse. “Stop!” he repeated. “I’m trying to help you, damn it!”
A lashing foot came precariously close to his groin and he barely managed to twist his hips so that it caught the side of his upper thigh instead of taking another blow to his balls. A surge of anger and frustration rose in him so quickly he felt tempted to drop her back to the ground. Fine. Let the Jokers have her, whoever the hell she was. She certainly wasn’t acting like a damsel in distress.
God. He was an asshole.
She needed protecting, especially out here, even if she didn’t know it yet. Finally, he managed to get her further around the side of the warehouse and around the back, further from the door, further from his own men, now searching the warehouse, and who at any moment—discovering where he had disappeared to—might laugh their fucking heads off at his inability to handle a single female.
Despite his frustration, he couldn’t ignore the plump breasts pressed against his shoulder blades, the tiny waist his arm was wrapped around, and the ample and well-formed ass that that he was already daydreaming about spanking. Legs that went on forever. God, she was a fighter. Probably a firecracker in bed, too. Out of nowhere, his balls tightened and his dick responded, filling to half-mast. Fuck. It had been awhile since anyone had caught his eye. Even the hangers on and sweet butts at the club hadn’t managed to swell his cock for a while, but here was this slip of a woman, giving him hell, and damn if it wasn’t as sexy as fuck. Another small fist pounded on his back again, this one closer to his ass. With a growl of impatience, he lifted her back against his chest, cradled her for just a moment, slightly bent his legs, and dropped her abruptly to the ground. She landed on her ass, knees bent, arms wide spread, eyes wide with dismay.
“You bloody oaf!” she gasped, legs again thrashing to strike his own.
He took a step back, and frustrated to no end, reached for the gun at the back of his waist. He didn’t want to be surprised if any more surprises came around the corner, plus maybe it’d finally get her to stop trying to kick him in the balls again. Damn, he was lucky that she hadn’t noticed it tucked into the back of his jeans or he could be dead by now. It was fucking foolish of him . . . she saw him reaching and froze, eyes still wide but expression now icy calm.
He frowned in confusion. A normal person would beg for her life. A normal person would try to make a deal. A normal person would say, Okay, okay, I’ll stop. She did none of those things. She just stared at him, looked him straight in the eye, as if daring him to hurt her. Unbidden, a tinge of respect replaced his frustration. The fact that he had been willing to resort to an open, terrifying threat to an already terrified young woman prompted a surge of shame.
“Like I said, I’m trying to help you,” he said quietly. “Who are you and what are you doing with the Jokers?” She held out her bound arms toward him, a disgusted look on her face. She opened her mouth to reply, but a voice behind him beat her to it.
“You okay, Sticks?”
He turned to find Chops approaching, gaze riveted on the woman lying flat on her back on the ground. He nodded. “I’m fine. Where are the others? Everybody okay?”
“Yeah, everybody’s okay. Merc’s inside with Shakespeare, taking a look around. Who’s she?”
“Go help Merc,” he said.
Immediately, Chops turned and retreated. The brief interlude had helped Seth calm down and though his heart still pounded hard in his chest from the encounter with the Jokers, curiosity soon replaced it. He crouched down, out of reach of the woman’s legs, just in case she decided to do something foolish, hands dangling over his knees as he stared at her. In the last few seconds, the sun had dipped beyond the western horizon and the sky had grown darker, but he still saw the sheen of pale flesh, long blonde hair, more than half of it now escaping her ponytail. Her expression appeared calm, but he saw the trembling in her arms as she pushed herself up and managed to wiggle into a half-seated position, and then a nervous swipe of her tongue against her lips. That tongue . . . with a slight shake of his head, he pushed wayward thoughts away and repeated his question.
“Who are you? What are you doing with the Jokers?”
“Is that . . . is that who they are?”
Her voice tremulous, she continued to stare at him, as if afraid to look away for just a moment, afraid of what he might do. Both of them were wound tight as springs, each ready for the other to make a move. Toward what, he didn’t know, but despite her restraint, there were little tells. She was close to full-blown panic.
“They . . . they kidnapped me,” she finally said, her voice cracking.
“Why?”
She looked at him as if he were nuts, eyebrows lowered.” How the hell should I know?”
Behind them, noises sounded in the warehouse, like crates or boxes being moved or shuffled about and what sounded like a piece of metal crashing to the ground.
What the hell was he going to do with her? “Are you hurt?”
“Who are you? You a rival motorcycle gang?”
Seth crossed his arms across his chest, his shoulders lifting. “We’re not a gang, we’re a club—”
“Big difference,” she sneered. “Just let me go.”
For a second, he thought about doing just that, but then, he changed his mind. It wasn’t only the sexual attraction he felt toward her that did it, either. He should take her back to the compound first, have a little chat with Levi. As president, he had a right to know what had happened. Maybe she hadn’t been kidnapped at all. Maybe the Jokers knew they were there and brought her there for a reason. Maybe the Jokers had found out somehow that the Steel Kings had been tracking their movements.
Over the past few months, Levi had decided to take some matters into his own hands. Like the drugs that the Jokers transported. The Kings followed them, like they had tonight to the warehouse. Sometimes, they just watched while other times, they waited until the Jokers left and then searched whatever building, abandoned house, or warehouse, like this one, to find out what the Jokers were up to. Sometimes they found boxes of weapons, which they destroyed. Sometimes they found drugs, which they also destroyed. This was the first time however, that he’d come across a woman, bound, apparently not there of her own free will. Was she a kidnap victim or a spy? He wasn’t sure what to do with her, not until he learned her story. No question about it, he needed Levi’s advice on this one.
“Everything okay?”
Seth abruptly stood, lips tight with frustration as he spun and saw Grady standing not three feet behind him. Damn it, he wished their sergeant at arms didn’t have that special gift of his to appear and disappear like a ghost. He hadn’t heard a sound. If it’d been a Joker standing behind him, he’d be dead by now. One glance at the woman told him that she hadn’t seen or heard him approach either. She stared at Grady with wide eyes, mouth open in surprise.
“Who is she?”
“No idea,” Seth shrugged. “I’m thinking that we need to find out though so Vlad can make a decision.”
Grady nodded.
“Vlad?” The woman said, surprising both of them. She scrambled to her feet, teetering for a moment before she caught her balance. Her hands were still bound in front of her with duct tape, she stared at both of them. “Who the hell is Vlad, and what do you want with me? Why can’t you just let me go? I won’t tell anybody what happened here—”
Grady took a step toward her and her gaze darted from Grady to Seth and back again. She was probably trying to decide which of them was more dangerous. She stared at Grady for a moment, as did Seth, taking in his tight jaw, his glare, and his stiff posture. Most of all his gun, still in his hand though the muzzle now pointed down at the dirt, was intimidating to say the least. Her gaze darted back to Seth. Suddenly he was a good guy. She stood still, eyeing them both, chest now heaving with renewed fear.
“Pl
ease, just let me go. I don’t have anything to do with them, and I don’t want to have anything to do with you, either.”
“No can do,” Seth said, taking a step toward her, arm extended. She stiffened and took a step backward, eyeing him warily as his hand wrapped around her upper arm. A small, delicate, yet muscled upper arm. “You going to walk or do I have to throw you over my shoulder like a sack of potatoes again?”
“But where—”
“Just come with me.”
Without putting up much of a fight, she acquiesced, albeit reluctantly, her feet dragging in the dirt, tugging on him in more of a show of resistance than a true intention to bolt. Where could she run to? They outnumbered her six to one and she was bound with duct tape, might even be injured. He had planned to put her on the back of his bike, but if she was wounded, she might fall off. He thought about that when she spoke, leaving Grady behind.
“Are you following them? The Jokers? Who are the others riding with you? What were you doing here?”
He frowned. She sure had a lot of questions for a woman who’d been kidnapped, but then again, maybe that was natural. How the hell would he know? Her arm trembled wildly beneath his gentle grip, but as he glanced at her features once again, her face gave nothing away. Whoever she was, she did a mighty fine job of hiding her emotions. She looked wary, a bit confused. And pretty. Very pretty. Even lightly battered and bruised, she was definitely good looking. He failed once again to tamp down the sexual attraction he felt for her. With a growl, he shook his head. The last thing he needed in his life right now was another problem.
By the time he approached the spot where the group had left their motorcycles, the others had gathered, some already on their bikes, others climbing on. Every one of them looked at the woman and stared.
“Who’s she?”
Once again, Seth glanced at Chops. He also eyed Shakespeare, not liking the way Shakespeare’s gaze riveted on the woman’s tits. The sudden surge of protectiveness that he felt toward her was more than a little curious. And what the hell did he care what the others looked at? He’d looked too. And nice, fine, plump tits they were. But now was not the time. He turned toward Grady.
“You find anything?”
Grady shrugged. “About twenty pounds of pot, packaged into five-pound bricks.” He gestured toward the warehouse. “At the moment, it’s smoldering. Other than that, it looks like a storehouse for car parts. Perhaps the remnants of a chop shop.”
At Grady’s words, the woman stiffened under his hold.
“When we get back, I’ll look into it more, find out who owns the building. It could belong to someone associated with the Jokers. If it is, I’ll come back and burn the whole fucking place down.”
Seth nodded and turned to the woman. She stared at the group, eyes wider now, unable to hide her renewed trepidation. She glanced at Seth, fear now evident in her gaze. He wanted to reassure her, to tell her that they weren’t going to hurt her, not like the Jokers would have, but if he did, she’d fight. Right now, he needed her to stay scared and obedient. Grady started his bike along with the others. Grady gave him a look, glanced at the woman, then back at him. No words needed to be exchanged as Seth nodded. He would take the woman back to the compound and let Levi decide what to do with her.
The others took off, spewing dust, narrow cones of their headlights illuminating the desolate landscape around them. He turned toward the woman, then her bound hands. “If I cut you loose . . . let me just say that you’d better not try anything. You’ll ride on the bike behind me. You will put your hands around my waist and interlace your fingers in front of me. You will not do anything to try get away, or you’ll just end up hurting yourself. Understand?”
She looked at him, thought about it a moment, and then nodded, extending her hands out toward him. He reached down and grasped the buck knife he always tucked into his left boot and slashed the bindings. Making his movement obvious, he tucked the knife back into the boot and then reached behind his back, showing her his gun. He tucked that into his right boot.
“What you going to do with me?”
He wanted to reassure her that he didn’t plan on doing anything to her. Of course, with another glance down her body, he had to admit that he wouldn’t mind doing a thing or two, imagined his lips suckling one of those tits of hers, his fingers dipping deep inside her moistness, mewling sounds of pleasure escaping her throat—
“Not sure yet,” he replied shortly, damning the arousal now prompting his blood to pound and his dick to rise to abrupt attention. Shit.
He climbed astride his bike, then gestured for her to climb on behind him. At that moment, he saw contemplation in her gaze. Should she run or obey? “You run and I’ll chase you down. You can’t outrun me. Now get on.”
With a brief slump to her shoulders, she obeyed, nestling close behind him on the bike, then hesitantly wrapped her arms around his waist and interlaced her fingers in front of him. Her breasts squished against his back, her crotch cradling his ass, her thighs rubbing against the back of his. He gritted his teeth and swore.
“You ever been on a bike before?” he managed.
“No.”
Her chin bumped against the back of his neck and he turned slightly toward her. “Just hang on. If I make a turn, lean into it and don’t fight gravity.” Before she could reply, he started his bike and without warning, throttled forward. She uttered a sharp gasp and tightened her arms around his waist, her chin again bouncing against his back as he drove into the darkness, his headlights illuminating maybe thirty yards ahead of him on the dirt road that would take him to the frontage road, which in turn, would eventually take him to the highway back to their compound.
He should have just left her there to find her own way to get help. Then again, Levi would need to know about her. What was she doing there? Was she a kidnap victim, or was she something else? Seth had been instantly suspicious of her presence, but he wasn’t sure why. Was it so important for him to get the truth? And what would Levi have to say about it all? If she’d been kidnapped, she needed to be taken back to her family. But if not . . .
With a sigh, he riveted his attention to the highway, watching for dips and ruts in the road.
He’d let Levi figure it out.
4
Nikki
Nikki held tightly onto the lean, tall man sitting in front of her, feeling nothing but muscle and sinew. Who were these guys? What were they going to do with her? Despite her fear, the desperation to find her sister rose harder within her. The Jokers . . . she had been afraid of them. Very afraid. She didn’t speak much Spanish but hadn’t needed a translator to get an idea of what was on their minds. The way they’d looked at her, the sounds they made, the rocking of their hips as they showed her their tongues had said it all. Had her sister felt the same fears . . . no, was her sister still feeling the same fears?
She couldn’t help it, she couldn’t get the whirl of desperate thoughts out of her mind. She and Stacey were incredibly close. Not to the point where they could feel each other’s physical pain, but emotional pain, that was something different. When Stacey was upset, so too was Nikki, and vice versa. When Stacey struggled with anxiety, relationship troubles, or worries about money, so too did Nikki. Sometimes, the emotional connection between the two of them was almost exhausting. Was that the price you paid for being compassionate and empathetic with others?
Nikki found it hard to believe that something bad had happened to her sister over a chop shop. Chop shops were all over the place in the Southwest. Had Roger gotten into something deeper? Had Stacey seen or heard something that she shouldn’t have? Something that might expose Roger or the Jokers or whoever the hell ran the shop? What had Stacey seen or heard that would put her in such danger? Then again, what wouldn’t?
So Nikki had deliberately put herself in harm’s way, making it obvious to whomever might be watching that her curiosity and determination to find her sister wasn’t going to go away. Since her sister’s disappe
arance, she had shown up at Roger’s auto shop twice. He’d stopped her at the front door both times, and the last time, Nikki had blatantly asked him if he’d had something to do with her sister’s disappearance. Had he hurt Stacey? What had he done to her?
The man had grown angry and belligerent. “Go to the cops,” he’d ordered. “Leave me alone. I didn’t have anything to do with it.”
Nikki didn’t believe him for a minute. Not for a single second. He knew. She felt it. Of course, the cops wouldn’t put much stock in her feelings . . . they needed evidence, and evidence she did not have, just her suspicions. She’d been terrified, but had waited impatiently for something to happen, and it had. She had—
The bike jolted over a dip in the road and her ass lifted about three inches off the seat behind the Steel King riding as if he and the bike were one. She felt the gentle turn of his hips as he rounded a curve, the muscles in his back working the handlebars, the shift of hard thigh muscles as he shifted gears with his foot. She clutched at the man’s waist and pressed her forehead into his back and held on for dear life. She’d never ridden on a motorcycle before.
The ground sped past with dizzying speed, terrifying her that she’d fall off. The dirt and then asphalt blurred faster as he accelerated. The wind tugged at her hair, her clothes, filling her with terror. If she fell off now, she’d be roadkill. The guy’s ab muscles tightened against her grip, and she couldn’t help but feel a sense of odd security. He wouldn’t let her fall. How did she know? She just felt it. A grunt issued from her throat. That’s all she had lately. Feelings. Nothing concrete to base them on, and yet she sensed that he wasn’t going to hurt her. She had good intuition, but at the same time, she didn’t know this guy from Adam. Once he got back to wherever he was taking her, he and his bike riding buddies could do whatever they wanted. They could treat her even worse than the Jokers had.
Confession (Steel Kings MC Book 2) Page 3
