Viper (Hell's Handlers MC Book 9)

by Lilly Atlas

  “Shit,” he suddenly said as he shrugged out of his leather vest. After tossing it on the bed, he drew his dark hooded sweatshirt over his head.

  Cassie flattened herself against the headboard as her heart went haywire.

  Fight or flight instincts tried to kick in, but, bound as she was neither prevailed. Her insides shook with gale force and dizziness made her draw her legs up tighter as though to anchor her in place. She shook her head back and forth as though pleading for mercy would actually work. Gone was the bravado of a few moments ago. Now that the opportunity to seduce one of the bikers was upon her, the concept seemed so repulsive she couldn’t stomach the thought, despite how attractive the man was.

  “P-please,” she said, still shaking her head. Later, she’d hate how her voice shook with desperation, but now all she could think about was preserving her dignity.

  He didn’t seem to have heard her speak. He just went about his task of removing the hoodie. Just as he pulled the thing over his head, Cassie opened her mouth to beg him once again, but instead of getting naked and advancing on her, he stayed where he was and tossed her the sweatshirt.

  Her jaw dropped.

  “Put it on,” he said, gaze like steel.

  God, how she wanted nothing more than to feel the warmth of that soft fabric covering her cold body. It was a toss-up as to whether she rejoiced more at the promise of warmth or shielding her nudity. Not that it mattered since the sweatshirt would kill both of those birds.

  “Um, I, uh, I can’t…” She held up her arms which were bound in front of her then chained to the bedpost.

  “Fuck, sorry,” he said, stalking toward her. She resisted the instinct to shrink even farther into herself. He didn’t stop until he was right up in her personal space. The scent of tobacco and some kind of manly deodorant surrounded her. God, that was an arousing smell. Beneath her bra, her nipples ached.

  Clearly, she needed food, about three days of sleep, and a psychologist. Terrified one second, aroused the next. What the hell was happening to her? Some kind of Stockholm syndrome? That had to be it. There was no other reason for her to be drawn to the man whose true intentions were unknown to her, but most likely wouldn’t be good.

  “W-what’s your name?” she asked more to distract herself from the inappropriate lust than to really learn his name.

  “Viper.” He drew a long blade from a sheath on his belt.

  Cassie couldn’t help the gasp that slipped through her lips or the way she flinched and jerked away.

  He raised his hands to shoulder height, knife and all. “Just gonna cut the plastic cuff off you, babe. That okay?”

  Babe? What? “Oh, uh, yes, please,” she whispered.

  He gripped her arm under her left elbow. The gentle way his large hand cupped her arm had emotion clogging her throat and tears wetting her eyes. She was totally losing it. She’d managed to keep it together through slaps, drugging, and groping, but a caring touch nearly unraveled her.

  “Won’t cut you, I promise.” This time his thumb stroked the tender skin inside her elbow and her entire body trembled. After being treated with such rough attention, his soft handling was a balm to her aching body and terrified psyche. It was the only possible explanation for the full-body reaction to the sweep of his fingers across her skin.

  “O-okay,” she said again, at a loss for anything more substantial. The deadly blade sliced through the tight cuffs with a quick flick of his wrist. The moment her hands were free, she sighed and rotated her wrist, finishing when the abused skin pulled with tearing intensity.

  “Why do they call you Viper?” It was that or ask him to hug her while she sobbed.

  “I can be mean as fuck and strike fast. Real name’s Michael, but I haven’t been called it in years.”

  Okay then. Her eyes widened then almost fell out of her face when he started to work the sweatshirt over her head. Once she’d pushed her arms through the very long sleeves, she swallowed and said, “T-thank you.” Warmth immediately engulfed her like a comforting embrace. The fabric smelled just like him, and the metaphorical hug became a little more intimate. And arousing. Too close for comfort considering she’d just been fantasizing about his arms wrapped around her.

  “You’re free,” he said as he lifted a wrist. The scrunched forehead matched his deep frown. Once again, those long fingers stroked so gently she’d have thought he was rubbing a newborn’s head.

  Wait. Did he just say…

  Cassie’s heart stuttered. She blinked up at him where he once again stood a few feet from the bed, arms crossed over his chest. “W-what?”

  “You’re free.”

  She couldn’t have heard him right. Was this a trap? Some kind of test? She stared at him for a moment as though she’d be able to see into his skull and determine his intentions. Nothing happened of course. Not even a blink of his eyes.

  Behind him, the door remained open, beckoning to her. If she ran, would he chase her down? Was this part of a sick game?

  “A-are you serious?”

  Mouth flat, Viper nodded.

  Even though hope surged inside her, Cassie made sure her face didn’t show it. Trust wasn’t something she had the luxury of dishing out right then. Not to a man wearing a Devil’s Tribe vest.

  “B-but why?”

  He frowned and the action had a deep groove forming between his eyes. She had the insane urge to press her thumb to it until his face relaxed. “You wanna talk about it or get the hell outta here?”

  Well, when he put it that way, did the why of it really matter?

  Hell no.

  “I wanna go,” she said. “Now.” But then the lingering unease won out and she pressed the issue once again. “It’s just…you’re one of them.”

  Way to state the obvious.

  He raised an eyebrow as if to say, “So?” And once again, he was right. Did it matter if he was one of them? She had to take any chance presented to her. Even a sliver of an escape possibility was worth it.

  “You have anywhere to go? Anywhere I can take you?” He asked, no longer frowning, but certainly not anywhere near a smile or even a friendly expression.

  Did she have anywhere to go? The million-dollar question.

  No, she did not.

  “No, I don’t.” She rubbed her sore wrist. “Have anywhere to go that is.”

  Viper took hold of her right forearm. Lifting it to his eye level, he studied the angry red gouges she received struggling against the cuffs. When his eyes darkened with displeasure, she tried to pull her wrist away, but his grip was as unbreakable as it was gentle. “Shit. I didn’t think to bring a first aid kit. They won’t have anything here.” Once again, his hold on her was so tender, she’d have never thought it possible.

  “I-It’s okay. It can wait until we, uh, I get somewhere.”

  With a heavy sigh, he pressed his lips to the raw marks. Cassie gasped as electricity shot straight up her arms and to her nipples.

  Before she had a chance to say anything, he repeated the gesture with her other wrist then lowered them to her lap. For a moment, he stared at the ceiling as though struggling with some important decision before saying, “Listen, I’m heading to Oregon tonight to hole up for a few days. When it’s safe, my buddy and I are riding east. You can come with us tonight. It’ll buy you a day or two to come up with a plan for yourself. You just can’t ever tell anyone what happened here tonight.”

  Her head spun with the new information. “But, wait, what about your club?”

  He shrugged, solemn as ever. “Won’t be welcome once they realize we let you go.”

  Wide-eyed, she shook her head. “We can come up with a story. What if I hit you over the head with something? Make it seem like I knocked you out and escaped. You can’t…you can’t ruin your life over this.”

  “Don’t work that way.” The smile he gave her was sad, almost defeated. “You think I could stay in this club knowing what they’re doing to women? Knowing what they were doing to you?” he asked
as he lifted his vest off the bed.

  Their gazes locked in a stare that felt far too intimate considering they’d met ten minutes prior. “I don’t know you,” she whispered.

  Another sigh. “No, you don’t, do you?” The words were as sorrowful as his eyes. Rising, he moved to the door. “If you’re coming with me, we leave in two hours. You’re free to roam about, but I wouldn’t recommend going outside. Don’t want to risk anyone seeing you. I got some sweatpants and shoes in my saddle bags. Not sure how great they’ll fit, but it’ll be better than nothing.”

  He’d brought her clothes? Why did that simple gesture have her near tears?

  “Can I help you up?”

  Cassie shook her head. “I got it.” He could never know how much she wanted to say yes. If he did, if he put an arm around her or helped lift her, she might latch on to him and never let go. No, she needed him to leave the room before she begged him to climb in the bed and hold her all night long.

  The moment he left, her limbs began to shake. For a few moments, she just sat, staring at the wall, then she rose on wobbly legs and breathed through the adrenalin dump. A few unsteady laps around the room worked the kinks out of her stiff muscles. Her stomach made a very unladylike growl, sending her into the hallway in search of food. What she found had her once again stunned. Viper stood at the stove, cracking eggs and dropping bacon in a sizzling pan.

  “Pants are on the table. You hungry?” he asked, back to her.

  How had he known she was there? She’d been virtually silent tiptoeing down the hallway. “Um, yeah, I haven’t eaten in a day or so.” She took one step into the room. How the hell was she supposed to act around this man? This biker who’d come to rescue her. The entire situation went way beyond bizarre. Five minutes ago, she’d had the feeling she’d offended him by insinuating he’d stay with his club, and now he was cooking for her?

  As she reached for the sweatpants, she asked, “Can I help?”

  “Nah, just sit that pretty ass down. I’ll be done in ten minutes.”

  Even though his back was still facing her, she nodded. As quiet as she could, she stepped into the sweatpants then pulled the string. A quick knot had them tight enough to stay up, though they bunched ridiculously around her waist. Not that it mattered. They were warm and covered her body. Once dressed, she slid into the seat to quietly wait.

  Dozens of questions danced at the tip of her tongue, but she wasn’t confident enough to ask them yet.

  Why are you doing this?

  Will someone be coming for us?

  Are you a cop?

  How could you associate with these men?

  Will I be safe when I leave here?

  With each tick of the clock, more questions filled her mind, but she didn’t utter one for fear of losing her only way out of hell.

  Almost exactly ten silent minutes later, Viper placed a plate in front of her. The chipped ceramic was piled high with fluffy scrambled eggs, crisp bacon, and two pieces of buttered white toast.

  “Sorry,” he said. “No jelly.”

  She laughed, a small giggle at first, but it morphed into an uncontrollable belly laugh.

  Viper watched her with a look of fascination on his face.

  “Sorry,” she said, struggling to breathe through the laughter. She pressed a hand to her chest. “I’m losing my mind. No jelly. God how I wish that was my biggest problem right now.”

  He gave her an assessing stare with those milk-chocolate eyes. A few days’ worth of beard growth covered his cheeks giving him a rugged, almost dangerously sexy appearance. “You’re something else, you know that?”

  The laugh died in her throat. Her mouth turned down. “What do you mean?”

  “You’re tough. Not once have you cried, freaked out, yelled, or panicked.” He leaned against the stove as he folded his arms across his chest. “And you’re smart. I can see you studying every situation before you speak. Plus, you’re gorgeous. The whole goddamn package.”

  Warmth filled her. No one had ever complimented her in such a sincere way. Finally, after hours and hours in the shack, she was pleasantly warm. Almost too warm.

  Suddenly she became acutely aware of the fact that he continued to watch her. Staring at her plate was easier than looking at the man who roused a host of conflicting emotions. Once her gaze was on her food, the smell registered and eating became her number one priority. She scooped up a bite of eggs and gave it a taste. Damn, the man could cook. “This is delicious, thank you.”

  “You’re very welcome, Cassie,” he said before he turned to fill himself a plate. A few seconds later, he sat across from her, a plate piled twice as high as hers. After casting a quick glance at her, he dug into his food.

  Despite her hunger and how good his food tasted, she took a moment to watch him eat. As she did, she realized something…she trusted this man. Call her crazy, but she believed he wouldn’t harm her. Believed he’d even work to keep her safe. Hopefully her intuition wouldn’t lead her astray.

  What were her other options? Return to her apartment in a building owned by her father? Who knew if the key would even fit in the lock anymore? Live in a city where an outlaw biker club might be searching for her? Continue existing in a world she didn’t fit into while peering over her shoulder all the time? What kind of life would that be?

  Maybe this was the perfect opportunity to live on her own terms. At the very least, hiding out in Oregon with Viper would buy her a few days to develop a sound plan and get her affairs in order.

  Please don’t let me regret this.

  “I’m in,” she said, heat rushing to her cheeks.

  Eyebrow raised, he said, “Huh?”

  “I’ll come with you to Oregon. If the offer is still on the table.”

  For the first time since he walked in her room, he smiled. “Fuck yeah the offer’s on the table. Get your shit packed,” he said like she was on vacation and actually had shit to pack. “We leave in under an hour.”

  Cassie smiled back at him and damn, for the first time since she’d discovered something was wrong with her drink, she didn’t feel afraid.

  All thanks to this biker who was giving up his entire life to rescue her.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  PRESENT DAY - TENNESSEE

  Cassie flipped the foyer light on as soon as she stepped into the silent house. After a quick final wave to Copper and Shell, as well as the poor prospect hanging out in her driveway all night, she shut the door to the outside world.

  Normally, on a night like this, she’d head into the kitchen, grab the bottle of whiskey and pour a drink for Viper and her. They’d sit on the couch, all snuggled up and they’d chat about…well, everything. On warm nights, they’d abandon the couch and head for the back porch instead. Both of them enjoyed being outside and they’d been known to sit out there into the early morning hours. When they’d finally retired to their room, they’d get lost in the pleasure of each other’s bodies.

  Even after so many years together, Viper had the ability to make her knees week and her brain short-circuit. He’d often told her he found her just as sexy today as when they met, and while she didn’t quite believe the words, he obviously never lost his desire for her.

  Nor did he need help from any little blue pills, thank you very much.

  Cassie grinned and as she did so, her gaze fell to their wedding photo. Her favorite picture they’d every taken. They were right there at the clubhouse. Cassie stood in her simple yet sexy short white dress with Viper’s arms around her. She remembered that photo like it was yesterday. The photographer instructed them to look at the camera and smile. Cassie did so, and the look on her face was one of sublime happiness. Viper, however, had turned her way at the very last second. Instead of smiling for the photo, the camera caught him staring down at Cassie with an expression of pure love and desire. If she’d ever doubted Viper’s love for her—which she never had—all she had to do was find this picture and she’d be reminded of his true feelings.

&nb
sp; Just as she was about to head to her room for bed, an idea came to her. She stared at the picture for a moment longer before saying, “Oh, fuck it. Why the hell not?”

  She kicked her boots off then left them right there in the middle of the den as she made her way to the kitchen. Less than a minute later, she was back in the den, glass of whiskey in hand. She kept the lights dim, leaving only the foyer fixture to illuminate the room in a soft glow. With a sigh, part exhaustion, part resignation, part acceptance, she sat on the sofa cushion closest to that picture.

  “You’d have hated tonight,” she said with a chuckle as she lifted the glass to her lips. The sip of whiskey warmed its way to her stomach. Something she and Viper both loved about the drink. “So many stories told about you. So many people talking about how you were a hero, a loyal brother, one of the best men they’ve ever known. Couple of the gals even mentioned how you looked damn fine for your age.”

  With a huff of laughter, she lifted the glass in toast. “Told you you’d have hated it. Guess we should have added modesty to that long list of attributes.”

  She fell silent and let her eyes close as she intermittently sipped the drink. If she kept her eyes shut and concentrated hard enough, she swore she could feel Viper’s presence in the room with her. Wishful thinking, probably but it provided some measure of comfort.

  “Been thinking a lot about how we met,” she said as she let her head flop back against the cushions. “I’ve always loved hearing the story from your point of view. So much happened in such a short time. Those were some crazy days.

  “To this day, I still can’t believe I just came straight out and asked you to sleep with me.” She giggled, the whiskey relaxing her limbs and lulling her into a state of sleepy peace. “You tried to resist me, remember? Of course you remember. You told me so many times how I shot your good intentions to hell. Pretty sure there isn’t a woman in the world who wouldn’t love hearing how irresistible their man found them.”

  A smile curled her lips. She set the empty tumbler on the coffee table before lying down on the couch. “Just for a few minutes,” she said. “Tell me again. One last time. Tell me how I made you break your promise to yourself. The one to keep your hands off me.”