by Jennifer Ann
“Don’t want you rememberin’ where we went in case you go runnin’ back to the spineless asshole,” I explain. “Need to stash you somewhere for a bit.”
“Stash me?” She scrunches her nose with a deep scowl. “What makes you think I won’t run?”
“Thought you didn’t have anywhere else to go. Just givin’ you an option. Either way, I don’t give a fuck.”
“Where’re you going?”
“To get your friend!” I snarl.
“You’d be an idiot to go back there alone. Diesel will be expecting you to return. They all will! The Martyrs are animals—they’ve killed for far less!”
Deciding we’re far enough away for it to be safe, I jerk the car to the side of the road. Throwing it into park, I rest my elbow on the dashboard and scowl down at her. Christ, she looks far too meek to even be in the same vehicle as someone like me. It amplifies my anger to a higher degree. “What the fuck you suggest I do instead? Leave your friend, hoping she isn’t killed next time some asshole beats her?”
“I don't know! She made me promise I’d leave without her, but I never should’ve listened!” A wild tremor passes over her lips. “If anything happens…”
Great. The only thing I hate more than a chick begging me for a relationship is one that’s crying. How the hell do I make it stop?
But she surprises me by regaining control of her lips, flattening them into a straight line. “We can’t leave her there.”
“I’ll figure out a way to get her outta there, lil’ mouse, but—”
“Why do you keep calling me that?”
“—first I’m taking you somewhere safe while I meet up with my crew…explain why I aborted our mission.”
She visibly tries to pull herself together, holding her chin high. “What mission? Are you military or something? Why did you help me? Going up against Diesel may have been brave, but it was stupid as hell.”
I shift back into drive without answering. Fuck if I know why I intervened.
Good arm wrapped tightly around herself, Andie's gaze slowly passes around every inch of the storage unit. Rented it while I was in the Corps to store random shit from my childhood. Even shipped a few things to my grandmother while I was stationed in Cali and Japan, including the Harley Fat Boy purchased with my first big check from the government.
Not the most ideal location, but it’s a better option for her than my place. There shouldn’t be anything here that would give my identity away, and no one will be able to track her down. Plus I’d lived here a few weeks before I found a place near Ryker’s auto shop, so at least I can offer a comfortable couch and a light so she’s not on the hard ground, waiting in the dark.
“You’re old school,” she comments with a shaky smile, motioning to Carson’s turntable and collection of vinyl classics.
“Don’t fuckin’ think about touching it,” I snap while lighting a cigarette. Last thing I need is a hot piece of ass ruining one of the only sentimental possessions left behind by my brother. Blowing out a stream of smoke, I snarl. “Don’t touch anything. And stay put. If I have to go searching for your ass later, you’re not gonna like it.”
Her lips draw downward with serious displeasure right before her eyes snap to the smoke in my hands. “Can I bum one?”
“No. Smoking’s no good for you.”
Green eyes lit, she holds my scowl. “Just because you helped me doesn’t mean you own me.”
“No shit. But you’re not givin’ me a lot of options to work with.”
The cold-hearted bastard in me wants to ruin the scared little mouse she once was, and bang her like one of the hookers my old man would bring home before I wised up and moved out.
I imagine this chick tastes even better than she looks…that she’s soft and warm in all the right places. The need to be with her is primal. My fingers throb, wanting to strip her of anything good that may be hidden under her soft skin.
To make her exactly like me.
The urge to grab her and push my tongue through her sensual lips grabs my balls like a vice. The need to fuck her morphs into a living beast that I can’t control.
Before I have a chance to do anything stupid, I turn while taking another drag of my smoke. “I’ll be back…with something for you to eat.”
“I guess I should thank you, whoever you are,” she utters quietly as I’m pulling on the overhead door. “If you hadn’t come along tonight…I might not’ve made it out alive. I just hope we can help Sasha before it’s too late.”
My heart roars to a stop.
The fuck?
Sasha? What are the chances after all these years, she’s still friends with Trask’s little sister?
What if Sasha’s the one we left in that clubhouse?
Letting the door drop back down, I stomp on my cigarette and reel around to charge at Andie. Like a scared little mouse, she tries to scamper away.
Lucky for me, there’s nowhere for her to go.
4
Andie
Ice coats my veins as my massive hero/captor charges at me, fire burning in his hauntingly beautiful, pale blue eyes. Aside from his paw-like hands and thick lips, they’re the only part of him he’s allowed me to see, but I swear I know him all the same. Something about the dark, dangerous rumble of his voice stirs old memories.
More than likely, he’s an enemy of the Martyrs. After all, they have more foes than allies. It would explain why this guy was hiding in the shadows of the parking lot, wearing a ski mask. If he hadn’t been so confused when I mentioned my father, I would’ve assumed he was there to kidnap the president’s daughter, hoping to gain a sizable ransom.
For whatever reason he took me along, I’m grateful. I’d rather die at the hands of a sinister stranger than live the rest of my life forced to do the bidding of my father and Diesel.
“What’s your friend’s name?” he demands, gripping my wrist so hard that I swear it’s on the verge of snapping just like my arm. “Say it!”
The smell of nicotine on his breath mixed in with his manly scent is oddly intoxicating when I inhale a sharp breath. I can hardly find my voice to answer.
“Sasha,” I whimper. “Sasha Green.”
“Fuck!” he roars, dropping my wrist. He spins around and slams his foot into a cardboard box. The contents break with a loud crack. “Fucking shit!”
I won’t pretend the outburst doesn’t terrify me, especially when he’s big enough to do some serious damage. But he’s so upset that I can’t help feeling empathetic.
Rubbing my sore wrist, I eye him thoughtfully. “You know Sasha?”
“The fuck was she doing there?” he asks. “Why wouldn’t she let us know she’s back?”
I get the feeling he’s only thinking out loud. He doesn’t seem to have heard my question as he fists the back of the ski mask. It lifts just enough to reveal straight, dark blond hair cut just above his collar.
This time I speak a little louder. “Sash only came to the club recently—to help me.”
“Help you what?” The roar of his voice sends terrifying vibrations through my chest.
“Escape,” I whisper.
He paces in wild, erratic circles, reminding me of a caged animal. Diesel’s outbursts are nothing compared to the complexity of this big dude’s rage. If he hadn’t just come to my rescue, I’d be terrified and desperate to run.
All at once, the truth slams into my stomach like a fist.
The growling voice.
Chilling blue eyes.
“You were a friend of Sasha’s brother,” I choke out. “Stone…I remember you…from that abandoned apartment building…that day I tried to run away.”
Stopping dead in his tracks, he tugs the mask off over his head.
I almost choke on a gasp.
Even with a deep scowl pulling at his sweetheart-shaped lips, he’s breathtakingly gorgeous. Masculine features carved from stone, both terrifying and beautiful. Straw-colored chin-length hair, matching scruff covering a well-defined ja
w. Body a mass of muscle. Eyes the color of a cloudless sky, shadowed with a disquieting darkness. Just as I remember.
I squirm beneath his dark stare. He’s unconventionally good looking in a way that gets under my skin, heating it to intolerable levels. There’s no question whether or not I could handle a man of his severity. He has the power to undo me, destroy the walls I’ve built all these years in trying to survive.
He grunts in a sound of confirmation. “Even back then you were runnin’ from your daddy.”
“You don’t understand. That was the last time I tried to run…until tonight.”
Brow furrowed, he shakes his head over and over. “You’ve been at that shithole ever since?” When I don’t answer, he sets a large hand over my sternum and pushes me up against the wall. My stupid heart flutters excitedly, oblivious to the anger etched in his expression. “You better start talkin’, because this whole night is fucked! Why aren’t you allowed to leave that place? How long has Sasha been there?”
I stare back at him, unwilling to cave to his demands. There’s only so much I can say without making him question whether or not I’m worth saving.
Once again, an angry song blasts from his phone. He releases me to answer it, jerking around to face the other side of the storage unit. When he barks out a greeting, I eye the entrance, deciding it’s now or never.
I’ve been a prisoner long enough.
Two steps into my getaway, a large arm hooks around my waist. “On my way,” Stone grumbles into his phone. Then his hard body presses to mine, filling my next breath with the scent of all man and sandalwood. Warm lips brush over my earlobe as he speaks. “Not so fast, lil’ mouse. I saved your hot ass. You owe me and my crew an explanation.”
With a hard swallow, my knees almost give out as he drags me back outside. It’s not the fury in his voice that gets to me—it was the hard-on pressed against my back, and the fact that I’ve never been aroused to this degree.
As comfortable as Stone’s crew appears in the complex yard behind a hulking mansion, I assume they all live there. I’ve never felt more out of place.
The two blonde strippers from the patch party blink back at me like I’m a freak show on display. The brunette must’ve been wearing a blond wig earlier, because I distinctly remember how she'd fingered the silver bracelet on her wrist the exact way she’s doing it now. With a pair of trendy glasses, hair slicked back in a ponytail, I’d guess she’s a teacher—the kind right out of most teenage boys’ fantasies. The more experienced blonde dancer is beyond stunning with a freshly cleaned face. Cheeks and nose sprinkled with freckles, long golden hair, mesmerizing doe-like eyes…she’s the literal definition of beautiful.
Now fully dressed in t-shirts and jeans, the women are each being embraced by men I vaguely recognize from growing up on the South Side. Liam Rooker doesn’t seem quite as cocky as I remember, though he’s even better looking, and clearly enamored of the brunette. And the way Ryker Blackwood dotes on the blonde, he’s far less intimidating than one would expect, considering he was once known as “the prince” of the neighborhood before Terrance Fisher took over.
Bender, Ryker’s little brother, lingers nearby. He was only a grade above Sasha and me, and doesn’t seem to have changed much beyond becoming covered in tattoos and turning hella-hot. He studies me with the same smart-ass smirk he always displayed when he wasn’t bouncing around detention centers. Another fairly attractive man with long, dark hair hangs at Bender’s side, mossy eyes dragging up and down my body like I’m being gifted to him. Any smart-assed comment I could make to the guy sticks to my throat, knowing how much they all must despise me for putting Sasha in this situation.
Stone radiates intensity at my side, fingers digging into the elbow of my arm. My body hasn’t stopped flushing since I felt his arousal in the storage unit. After being with Diesel for so long, I’ve learned to respond to anger and a hard hand, knowing it’s usually followed by rough sex. Can’t remember ever actually willing any other man to touch me the way I do with Stone.
“Tell ‘em what you told me on the way over,” he growls out through a clenched jaw.
Eyeing the two women, I clear my throat and wet my lips. “I ran into Sasha a few weeks ago. She was at the nightclub where the Martyrs were doing business in Kansas City. I almost didn’t recognize her, but she knew exactly who I was. We were best friends in elementary school…she wanted to know why I disappeared after the last time we saw each other, when we were fifteen. I explained to her how I’d been kept on lockdown by my father—the Martyrs’ president. I begged her to stay out of my mess, but she followed us back to the club, pretending she wanted to be an old lady. The next day she caught me alone, said she was going to help me escape. We were going to finally do it tonight—she’d planned to cause a scene with one of the strippers so I could slip out. But then Stone intervened…I haven’t seen her since.”
“Did she ever mention any of us to you?” the brunette asks in a tight, hurried tone, eyes glistening with tears. Liam presses his lips to the top of her head as she continues firing off questions. Her voice shakes a little harder with every word. “Did she tell you where she’s been living all this time? Did she say what she’s been doing? Did she go to college? Does she have a new family that loves her?”
I lower my chin, guilt-ridden for not having any answers. This woman clearly cares deeply about Sasha as she’s near hysterics, yet the only thing my friend mentioned was that the only people she cared about sent her away. And now I’m face-to-face with them.
“There wasn’t a lot of time for us to be ourselves while she was at the clubhouse,” I offer. “There was always someone watching.”
The brunette steps away from Liam to kick the brick wall surrounding the fire pit. “I knew I should’ve made her come with us!” She slowly sinks down to her knees, sobbing. “I just left her there…with those monsters!”
Liam rushes forward to fold his arms around her, sighing heavily. A wedding band on his ring finger catches the backyard lighting. “You couldn’t have possibly known what was going on with her, Brooke. Don’t beat yourself up over this. We all know she’s strong—she’ll be okay.” As he helps his wife back to her feet, his hard gaze meets mine. The way his upper lip curls with a scowl makes my insides twist. He has every right to hate me for what I’ve done, but it makes me feel like the scum of the earth. “Sure hope this plan you girls had included a way to get Sash out if things went to shit.”
Regret stings the back of my eyes as I boldly lift my chin. “She made me promise to leave with or without her, said she’d find her own way out. They weren’t holding her there against her will like they were with me.”
He huffs, doubt etched in his expression. “You expect us to believe you’ve been held captive there all these years? If it was so hard for you to leave, then why was it so easy for Stone to drag you out of there?”
A string of excuses pile up in my head. Because I’m weak. Because I tried it once before, and failed. Because I always knew my father would find me, no matter what.
Just because I’m here doesn’t mean a manhunt hasn’t already begun.
“I don’t care what you believe,” I snap back at Liam. “The only thing I care about is getting Sasha back before she gets hurt.”
“Liam,” Brooke scolds, clicking her tongue. “You and I know better than anyone that kind of thing happens all the time.” She moves away from him while wiping at her eyes and closing the distance between us. After throwing a reluctant look Stone’s way, she gently touches my shoulder. “Sounds like you’ve been through a lot, Andie.” The depth of kindness shining in her expression tugs at my heart strings. We could easily be the same age, but there’s something maternal about her that’s foreign to a girl like me. Even when my mother was alive, no one really gave a damn whether or not I lived to see another day. “It’s getting late. How about we let Zoe set you up in one of the guest rooms, then you and I can talk this over in the morning?”
Stone grunt
s, squeezing my elbow even tighter. “Everyone here deserves to know the whole story.”
“And you’ll hear it…eventually,” Brooke tells him, her tone firm and final.
When Stone’s fingers finally release me, my heart thumps with an irregular beat. Something about his touch was actually calming.
I cock an eyebrow in Brooke’s direction. “What were you doing there, wearing a disguise?” I ask. “And what are we gonna do about Sasha? We can’t just leave her there!”
“I’ll fill you in on everything tomorrow.” She glances back to her husband. “We’ll leave it up to the men to save Sash. Sounds like it’s too dangerous for you to go back there anyway.”
Liam holds his wife’s gaze, dipping his chin low in confirmation. Part of me wants to warn them of the danger they’ll be in. Based on the overall intensity rolling off the five men, however, and the fact that they were well prepared when they came to the compound, it doesn’t seem necessary. Whatever brought them there, they expected trouble.
Zoe, the experienced stripper, joins us. “Let’s go get you settled in,” she tells me with a friendly smile, reaching for my arm.
Searing pain shoots through my forearm. I draw back with a sharp gasp.
Stone darts in between us, his back to me. “Some fuckwad broke her arm…it’s the reason I pulled you two outta there early. She wouldn’t let me take her to the ER.”
Brooke’s eyes travel down to where I’m favoring my arm in my other hand. “It does look pretty swollen.” She holds her palm upward, rotating it all the way around. “Can you turn it like this?”
The mere thought of trying to copy the motion makes me wince. “It’s okay. He’s being dramatic.”
“I don’t think so,” she disagrees with a gentle shake of her head. “Liam and I run a women’s shelter downtown. We work with a doctor who handles instances like this.” Her eyes flicker back to Stone. “If it’s not feeling any better by morning, I’ll ask her to swing by.”
