by Evie Monroe
That was when I heard the voices.
I limped a step, my boots pinching my foot again. Drake was talking to someone else with a low male voice. They stopped speaking as the door creaked. I walked down the short hallway and saw Drake standing there, in jeans, his arms crossed. The guy he’d been with at the bar was there, too. Jeff? Joe? No, Jet.
They both stared at me like I was an alien as I walked into the living room. “Hey,” I said, which came out like a question. Had I done something wrong?
“Hey,” Jet said, his voice a low, sexy kind of hiss. I bet he was used to making women drop their panties, but ha. I wasn’t wearing any.
Jet’s face was wolfish, which worried me, but Drake’s was kind of blank. Unreadable. But the two of them, staring me down together? It was kind of scary.
Then it hit me.
Oh, hell, no. This wasn’t what I was thinking, was it?
“Before you say anything,” I said, taking a step back. “I don’t do threesomes, if that’s what this is all about. I’m strictly a one-man woman.”
Jet laughed at me. “Don’t flatter yourself, girl.”
Okay, asshole. Like it wasn’t him trying to get in my pants a few hours ago on the dance floor.
Then he pushed aside his jacket and I saw the butt of a gun, sticking out from his jeans. It didn’t alarm me right away, because I knew that look very well. I’d been around guns all my life, even as a little girl. Rarely did a Fury guy go walking around without his weapon. But . . . what was an ordinary, motorcycle dude doing with gun? And why was he showing it to me?
Was this a threat?
I balled my fists at my sides. “What is going on?” I said, voice rising as I looked at Drake.
Drake, who looked fucking guilty as hell.
“Nothing,” Jet said, scratching the side of his face. Yeah, right. He said it like it was definitely something. “We just want to talk to you for a second.”
I gathered my courage. “You flashing your gun isn’t going to scare me, if that’s what you’re trying to do. Could you stop playing tough guy and just tell me what this is about?”
Jet let out a short, sour laugh. “It’s about how you’re fucking us.”
“What? Fucking you? How?”
“Hey,” Drake said, holding out his hands. “Jet. Cut it out. Don’t fuck with her.”
He ignored Drake, walked over to the dining table, and sat down, putting his boots up on the chair opposite him. He patted his gun at his side and smirked at me. I’d thought he was a bit of a prick at the bar earlier that night, but now I really hated him. “So, sweetness. You have anything to tell us?”
“Tell you?” I fisted my hands on my hips. “Like I said, I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about. This is getting old. Just tell me and we can clear this up easily.”
He just stared at me. Waiting. Like he was trying to intimidate me.
I rolled my eyes and pointed to the door. “If you’re done, I’ve got to . . .”
He straightened, and his boots hit the ground hard as he rose to his feet. He came up close to me, blocking me from the exit. I took another step back until I was flattened against the wall, his cold eyes never leaving mine. I knew Jet was an asshole, but was Drake just going to stand there and let his happen?
Apparently, yes.
In a heartbeat, Jet reached out, grabbing me around the waist and whirling me around. I was powerless to move as he wrapped me in his one, massive, muscled arm.
“What the fuck!” I shouted as I felt his hands scrabbling behind my back.
As he lifted my camisole, pulling on my skirt, it suddenly dawned on me.
I was sixteen when I’d gotten that tattoo. It’d hurt like a motherfucker, which was why I never got another. I never even wanted it in the first place. It had been my daddy’s idea. He wanted to brand me, to make sure everyone knew I was his kid.
“Fuck,” Jet said, shoving me roughly off of him. He pushed me away so that I nearly went face first into the wall.
I whirled to see him staring at me like I was a piece of shit.
He leaned against the back of the sofa and pulled the gun out of his jeans. “You mind telling us why you have a flame tattoo on your back, sweetheart?”
I swallowed. Why were they looking at me like that? If they were just ordinary bikers who rode on their own, it shouldn’t have meant anything to them. But Fury did have their enemies, a hell of a lot of them.
I decided to play dumb. I shrugged. “What difference does it make? It’s just a tat. It doesn’t mean anything. I like fire. It looks cool.”
He waved the gun at me. “Fuck that. That’s a Hell’s Fury tat. You’re branded Fury property.”
Shit. I sucked in a breath and tried to meet his eyes but ended up looking away. I was fucked if these guys were Fury’s enemies. “I don’t know what you mean.”
Drake, who’d been silent this whole time, opened his mouth, but it wasn’t to defend me. “Cait.” His voice boomed in my ears like a curse. He was angry with me. I’d let him down.
“Even if it is a Fury tat,” I said, steeling myself. “Why do you care? What do you have against them?”
Jet looked over at Drake for a moment, then turned one of his enormous biceps to me. He eased up the sleeve of his black t-shirt over his bicep to reveal an enormous silver cobra, with jaws open, ready to strike. Bile rose in my throat as his cold eyes flashed to mine.
“Everything,” he said.
Chapter Nine
Drake
Her eyes widened as she took in the cobra tattoo on Jet’s arm. She might have been playing dumb before to get herself out of here in one piece. But no one could mistake the look in her eyes.
She knew exactly who we were. She let out a shaky breath.
“So, who are you, doll? One of their hookers? Did your man send you over here to spy on us?” Jet asked.
Her eyes narrowed. “No! No, of course not. This is all an innocent mistake. I didn’t know who you were. You weren’t wearing . . .”
“Like hell,” I said, sliding up onto a stool. “Doesn’t matter what we were wearing. The Wall is Cobra territory. That’s common knowledge. You had to have known that.”
She shook her head. “Honestly, I didn’t. My friend and I just wanted to have some fun. I’d seen the place coming home from work and thought we could check it out.”
“Bullshit!” Jet breathed, stalking across the room. He wagged a finger in her face. “You were fucking spying on us. Who sent you?”
She was shaking her head adamantly and standing strong, but I saw a flash of fear in her eyes. It was more than most girls I knew could have withstood. Pretty and baby-faced though he was, Jet could be scary as fuck when he wanted to be.
Like now.
“Hey, Jet,” I warned. “Ease up.”
He came up close to her and trapped her against the wall, caging her with his arms, bringing the gun up close to her. His voice was a whisper. “You know, sweetness, what we do with spies?”
She didn’t answer.
Most girls would’ve pissed their pants by now.
Jet handled the gun like he was in the wild west, about to engage in a shoot-out. If this was his method of gently persuading her to tell us Fury secrets, we were fucked. It was clear Cait hated him, and I couldn’t blame her. Her voice was tough. “I don’t know. Are you going to kill me?”
He let out an anguished “FUCK!” and punched the wall over her.
“Jet!” I growled. “Enough.”
He was getting a little wound up in his little power trip, and it was starting to bug the shit out of me. Why the fuck had I called him? I knew all along this was how he’d handle things.
He looked back at me for a blink. “What, man? I don’t think we should let her leave.”
“Come on, man,” I said. Jet was in her face, now, so I couldn’t see it, but her legs were covered in goose bumps. “She’s not our prisoner. We can’t keep her here.”
“All right. Take her so
meplace else. Keep her until we find out just who she is and what she knows.”
She scowled at him. This was turning bad. Enough of this shit. I had to save him from himself, reel him in before he gently persuaded her into kneeing him in the balls.
I went and yanked Jet by the back of his t-shirt, pulling him out of Cait’s face.
“Let’s talk.” I motioned him to the balcony.
He shot daggers at her and pointed the gun in her direction. “You stay right there. We’re not done with you.”
I pulled him outside. “Yeah we are. We’re done. We should let her go.”
“What? You kidding me? She’s Fury. She was sent here to spy on us, and you just want to let her leave?”
I nodded. “Yeah. I’m not keeping her here as a fucking prisoner, Jet. The Fury might be into kidnapping, but we aren’t.”
“But you can’t just let her go. She’s seen too much. Cullen’s not going to let you do that. You have to take her to him and ask him what needs to be done. You let her go without talking to him first and he’ll ream your ass.”
He was probably right. But as I looked over my shoulder and saw her, eying the door, biting her lip, eyes wide . . . she’d had enough of Jet, that was for sure. And I wasn’t about to subject her to any more of his persuasion. “All right. Fine. I’ll ask Cullen to call church as soon as he can, and we’ll discuss it this morning. But don’t be an asshole to her.”
He pointed forcefully into the apartment with his gun. “What the fuck is wrong with you? She’s Fury. Why should you give a shit how I act to the likes of her?”
“Because she’s scared.”
“She ain’t scared.”
“She’s acting tough, but she’s shaking.”
“And that concerns me . . . why? It’s probably a fucking act, anyway. You know all those Fury women are sly little minxes.” He clinched a fist. “Dammit. I knew there was something wrong with her when I laid eyes on her at the bar.”
I nearly snorted. The only thing wrong with her was that she didn’t fall for his charms like every other woman in the country.
His eyes were hard on me. I shook my head. I knew what he was thinking. I was pussy-whipped, after one night. But I wasn’t. I just didn’t have the hard-edge with women that he had. Might have been the Hippocratic oath I’d taken. When I saw someone hurt or in trouble, didn’t matter who they were, I wanted to help.
I crossed my arms. “Jet. Either cool the fuck down or get out of here.”
“You can’t be serious. You called me over here, dude. And you’re siding with her, even though she’ll rip your fucking heart out and stomp on it the first second she gets. She’s Fury property, dude. She fucks Fury guys.”
I looked over my shoulder at her. I didn’t know why, but I didn’t buy it. “Just promise me you’ll cool the fuck down,” I warned.
His face twisted. “Fine.”
The next time I looked, I had to do a double take. Because the place where she’d been before, leaning against the wall? Empty. She was gone. I moved closer, scanning the room.
We both saw her at the same time, reaching for the door, throwing it open and rushing out.
“Fuck!” Jet made it inside first, launching himself over the coffee table and running for the door. But I’d always been faster. I got around him, went through the door, and grabbed her around her tiny waist, pulling her to me and back into the apartment.
“You can’t go,” I ground out as she wailed and kicked against my shins with the heels of those deadly cowboy boots.
She was kicking so hard that Jet had to subdue her legs. We yanked her back into the apartment, and Jet closed and locked the door. “Now will you believe me that this girl is trouble?”
I glared at him as I held Cait down on the couch, pinning her wrists above her and sitting on her legs. Her eyes were pure fire, and her body thrashed, but she was probably barely a buck-twenty soaking wet. She wasn’t going anywhere as she yelped, “Leave me the fuck alone!”
I turned to Jet. “What the fuck did you expect her to do, with you waving that gun in her face?”
Jet shook his head. “I can’t believe what I’m hearing. You’re taking her side.”
“I’m not taking a side on this. I just don’t think you’re handling it . . .”
“You already fucked her, didn’t you? Why are you acting like you want to get in her pants some more?” He laughed sourly and looked out toward the ocean, then pointed at me. “She’s gonna bring us down, Drake. Count on that.”
I was about three seconds away from losing it with him.
He walked into my kitchen, opening cabinets and poking around. “You have any rope? We need to tie her up so she doesn’t get away.”
And that did it.
“Get the fuck out of my apartment,” I muttered to him, still keeping Cait subdued. She’d calmed a bit, but every once in a while, I felt her trying to break free, to no avail. “I’ll deal with her on my own. Just get out.”
He stared at me. “Fuck that. You’re just gonna let her go. Are you . . .”
I let go of Cait, stood, and faced him, shoving him hard in the chest. “You heard me, get out.”
He glared at me, nostrils flaring, then his eyes went over my shoulder, to Cait. “Your funeral. I’m telling Cullen.”
“I’ll tell Cullen,” I said. “As soon as I get her calmed down. I’ll see you at church later.”
He gave me a surprised look, which turned into a bitter laugh. Then he shook his head, opened the door, and stormed out.
I let out a breath. As soon as he’d slammed the door behind him, I raked my hands through my hair. Fuck.
When I turned back to Cait, she’d gotten free of the sofa, but was hugging herself in a corner. She didn’t look like she wanted to escape anymore. No, she was shaking, her eyes full of tears. It might have been an act, but it if it was, she deserved all the awards.
Fucking Jet. I shouldn’t have called him.
Chapter Ten
Caitlyn
What had first seemed like one of the greatest nights of my life was quickly turning out to be the worst ever. As I stood there, watching the two men argue on the balcony, oozing testosterone as they decided what to do with me, my eyes kept trailing to the sky behind them.
It was getting lighter. The sun was coming up.
That meant my dad would soon be up. And he’d soon be home.
I had no idea where The Wall was located in relationship to this apartment complex, but I’d have to get back there to pick up my car. Then, find Martie, wherever she was and get her home. Then it was a good twenty minutes back to my house in North Aveline Bay.
It had to be after five by now. I was running out of time.
I managed a glance at Drake and Jet. Cobras. Of course they were Steel Cobras. How could I have been so stupid? Maybe because though I’d never run into men from the motorcycle club, my father’s main adversary, I’d heard enough stories about them. According to my dad, they were ugly, mean, gross sons of bitches. I’d heard about Steel Cobras from the time I was a little kid and had equated them in my head to the evil monsters in my story books.
These men? Definitely not monsters. Oh, hell no. They were beautiful.
Except that Jet kept flipping that gun in my face. He was definitely getting on my nerves. He had no idea how close he’d come to his nuts full of my knee.
As they argued, I thought of Martie, probably wondering where I was and dying to get away from her big mistake. But most of all, I thought of my mother, lying at home, unprotected. My daddy would surely kill her if he found out she’d let me go out all night.
I’d been gaming the system against my father for a long time. Maybe this was when I’d finally get caught.
But I thought of my mother, the last time he’d beaten her up so bad, she could barely stand up on her own. I knew I couldn’t let that happen again.
I saw my chance and I took it.
As Jet waved his gun and Drake spoke quietly, I slowly
grabbed my purse off the counter and crept my way to the door. I quietly twisted the knob.
I was just opening it when I heard Jet yell, “Fuck!” and saw a flash of movement behind me.
I ran. I ran as fast as I could, but it wasn’t fast enough. Two large arms circled around my waist and dragged me backwards. I screamed, hoping a neighbor would come out, but that didn’t help. I was quickly shoved back into the apartment. Drake threw me down on the sofa, pinning my wrists together with one hand. He sat down on my legs, rendering me immobile, as easy as that, and continued to argue with Jet. I screamed with every last bit of breath I had, but it wasn’t much. He covered my mouth with his other hand, barely looking bothered at all.
He may have been hot and had that magic cock. But he too, was an asshole. A Cobra asshole. Maybe my father wasn’t too far off with his assessment.
Then he told Jet to get the hell out. Jet wasn’t listening, and I could tell Drake was getting pissed at him. He jumped up, freeing me, and basically shoved him out the door.
I climbed off the couch and squeezed myself in a corner, wondering if I’d ever get out of here. When he closed the door, he looked back at me. “Don’t scream, okay?”
I scowled at him. “Why shouldn’t I?”
He held up his hands. “Because I’m not gonna hurt you and I’m not pointing a gun at you. Okay?”
“Fine. But please let me go. I’ve got to go.” I glanced out the window. The sky looked lighter still. If anything happened to my mom this morning, it would be all my fault.
“Hold on,” he said. At least he wasn’t threatening me. “What is all this about? Tell me the truth. Okay? Just the truth.”
If we’d ever found a Cobra girl in our club, my dad would’ve gone batshit crazy. I guessed I owed Drake an explanation, even if I really didn’t have one.
