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Venom’s Revenge: Ruthless Rejects MC, 1

Page 3

by Sam Crescent

The man who had me chained to a bed and I couldn’t do anything about it.

  Staring across the room, I’d have given just about anything to see sunlight. To feel the fresh air on my skin. To not be afraid of what was to come.

  At first, I was terrified.

  Why wouldn’t I be?

  Someone who hated my father had taken me against my will and now hoped to use me in some sick and twisted need for revenge. I got it, I did, but why did it have to be me?

  He probably didn’t give a shit that I was missing. Mom either.

  Resting my head on the pillow, I stared across the floor, wishing for something, anything.

  The sound of the basement door opening filled the air.

  No one else came down.

  I knew because I’d heard him beating the shit out of a guy who had come down to check out what their Prez was doing.

  Venom was the Prez.

  He’s the one in charge.

  He gets to decide if I live or die.

  I miss my notebook.

  My sketch pad was the only thing I missed.

  That and my colors.

  I’d have loved to paint something. At this point, I imagined the colors would be dark, a mess of anger and rage.

  I was angry at him, and my dad, at everyone who had ever thought they could just get rid of me.

  Steps grow louder and once again Venom was here with that stupid tray. If I wasn’t afraid of pain so much, I’d grab the tray and hit him repeatedly with it just to make me feel good.

  I couldn’t do that.

  When he stepped into the light and dragged the chair over to the bed, I made no move to get up or to show him any attention.

  I was dying inside.

  Maybe this was the torture part—but he’d promised he wouldn’t.

  “Get up,” he said, glaring at me.

  I stared at him but didn’t get up.

  Why the hell should I? He’s taken me and I’ve been playing nice all along. What do I get? Oh, that’s right, I get thrown into a basement where I get to hear the crap that is going on. I’m sure a couple were fucking against the basement door just the other night but again, that could just be my crazy head playing tricks on me.

  Being alone in a basement does that to you.

  Your mind starts to become weak.

  “I’m not in the mood for these games today. Get up.”

  Staring at him, I raised a brow—at least that was the look I was going for. “Why should I?”

  “You need to eat.”

  I couldn’t help but burst out laughing. It was so funny.

  “What is going on with you?” he asked.

  I sat up and smirked as he looked at me. “I’m sorry. I just find it hard to believe that you can’t handle doing this torture thing with me. You’re a lot older than me.”

  “So?”

  “So, you’re the one who took me and so far, what are you doing? I’m behaving, so you can’t hurt me. You’ve said you’re not going to kill me. What the hell are you going to do? Drive me crazy? I think I’m getting there.”

  I shouldn’t be talking or riling the beast. This is stupid.

  Every word I spoke I was playing with fire.

  This man, he wasn’t to be trifled with.

  Of course I knew that, but it didn’t stop me from taunting him, goading him, and when he finally snapped, he grabbed me. The tray of food spilled to the floor as I was suddenly slammed against the hard wall.

  The pain shook me out of every stupid thing I thought I was doing. All of a sudden, he had his hand wrapped around my neck, squeezing.

  I could still breathe, but the threat was there. All it would take was a bit more pressure and I’d struggle for air.

  “You think this is bad? Do you want it to get a whole lot worse? Believe me, it will.”

  “Fuck you,” I said and holy shit, I shouldn’t have said anything. I really shouldn’t have said anything.

  “You want to see what you’re going to get? Come on then, little girl, let’s go and play.”

  My heart was in my throat as he grabbed my wrists, releasing the cuffs that bound them. He didn’t let go.

  My cuffs only changed from steel to his hand.

  He marched up the steps and I stumbled to keep up with him. Every single second counted here.

  I wasn’t about to like what the hell was going to happen.

  I should have kept my damn mouth shut.

  Venom

  I expected her to make this fucking easy for me, not harder.

  I was angry, enraged.

  Her death, her pain, it was all necessary. I wanted to feel it but I wanted her to earn the kind of pain she was going to get.

  Instead, she’d been a good fucking girl.

  Eating her meals so long as I kept my gun trained on her. She didn’t scream, shout, or cause a problem.

  Pip, one of my guys, had stumbled down there, and I’d beaten the fucker black and blue. Now I was dragging her out of the sanctuary of the basement.

  The heavy beat of the music was thick in the air. The boys were having a party and that meant more patches and pussy were on the premises. A couple of old ladies were here and a fight had already broken out with a club whore who thought she had a pussy of gold. I didn’t have the energy to keep up with all the crap going down.

  Holding Rebekah to me, I forced her through the door.

  Gazes locked on us, but the boys knew to keep on partying, to not make a big deal about the fact I was dragging an eighteen-year-old girl toward the back of the clubhouse where a train was happening.

  One club whore who wanted to be known as Easy Pussy was on a flat surface in whatever position we told her. She took cock, simple as that.

  I pushed Rebekah into the room, where sure enough, at least fifteen guys with their jeans around their ankles and their dicks in their hands were waiting for their turns.

  This wasn’t my kind of thing, not to participate in at least. When I took a woman, I was the one she had for the night, no one else. Some of these girls were just plain fucking stupid.

  I told them all safe sex but if a chick wanted it bareback, that was their deal. Sure enough, the bitch on the table had opted to let the men go raw in her.

  They already had cum glossy on her inner thighs and there was a wet spot beneath her.

  “You see this? You want to keep on testing me, Rebekah, all of these men would love to test out your virgin pussy. I bet you’ve not had a man taste you before, huh? How about twenty?” With how one of the men was shoving his dick into Easy Pussy’s mouth, it looked a little like she was being forced, punished.

  She wasn’t.

  There’s a lot of shit I’d accept but rape wasn’t one of them. Not after what happened to my sister.

  One of the brothers raped a girl a few years back.

  He’d worn the patch of my club.

  When I found out what he’d done, I’d tortured the fucker. He was now six feet under with no dick, which was sewed shut in his mouth.

  The boys knew where I stood and if they thought it made me a pussy, then they could come at me. I’d be ready.

  No one had taken me on.

  The Ruthless Rejects were my club and they did as they were fucking told, period.

  Rebekah didn’t need to know that she wouldn’t be part of the club, at least not yet. No, her time would come when I was damn well ready for it and by the time I was through with her, she was going to be a good little whore.

  I was going to break her so fucking good.

  “Are you ready to head back to the basement?” I asked as one guy finished with the club whore only to be replaced seconds later.

  They were not gentle. They were not easy.

  They were rough and this little journey did what I wanted it to.

  It made Rebekah submissive in my arms.

  Chapter Five

  Rebekah

  I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t even think of what to say. Venom had a hold on my wrist, and althoug
h it was loose, it was unyielding. I knew my eyes were wide as saucers as I looked around.

  Venom led me out of the room where the woman was getting gangbanged, and back out into the main one. It was a large space, with men dressed in leather and denim, the women scantily clad. I couldn’t stop staring at the woman who was currently being fucked. My stomach twisted, my throat drying.

  “Don’t look so fucking shocked, princess.” Then he let go of my hand. I took a step back as I continued to look around at the debauchery going on.

  Blowjobs, ass fucking, someone playing Russian roulette.

  There were so many different things going on, things I’d never even thought about, let alone seen in real life.

  The men laughed sadistically, the women moaned in pleasure. My head started to spin and I couldn’t breathe, my lungs squeezing tightly, the air leaving me. I started to breathe hard and fast, hyperventilating as I took another step backward, and then another.

  I felt something cold and hard behind me and realized it was the door. An escape. I stared at Venom, who watched me with a grin on his face, clearly enjoying that I was having a breakdown. Who, exactly, had kidnapped me? What kind of monster was staring at me like I was something he would devour?

  I felt the door handle cold against my palm, and without thinking, because all I could feel was my survival mode kicking in, I twisted the handle and moved just as I opened the door.

  I ran hard and fast, the night air slamming into me as I sucked in my first lungful, realizing I wasn’t going to make it out alive. I was barefoot, the hard, angry asphalt beneath me scraping the soles of my feet.

  But I didn’t care.

  All I could see was darkness. All I could feel was freedom.

  I saw a fence surrounding me, the chain-link high, the gate massive. It was a barricade, another prison.

  And then I tripped, landing hard against the ground, pain shooting up my hands and arms, my knees and legs. I couldn’t move, my limbs feeling as if they were made of lead. And then the tears fell, hard and fast, my chest moving up and down as I sobbed.

  I cried because I was here, because no one was looking for me.

  I felt sorrow because I was truly alone, fear because I knew I would not make it out of this place in one piece. I’d be broken and battered, used and tossed away. That was clear by the scene I’d just witnessed inside, the fucking and drugs, the drinking and sneers. I was nothing but a bargaining chip, a revenge tour.

  And then I felt hands grip my arms surprisingly gently. I was lifted off the ground, my feet no longer touching the unforgiving asphalt as I was cradled in big, strong arms. My vision was blurry as I looked into the face of the man who held me, the scent of leather and something spicy invading my senses.

  Venom.

  He didn’t say anything as he held me and brought me back into the clubhouse. I started to struggle, crying harder, the scream lodged in my throat wanting to get out.

  “Shhh,” he said on a harsh whisper. “Easy now.” Despite the gruffness of his voice, there was an underlying tone of gentleness.

  I didn’t want to relate to him, didn’t want to accept what he gave me. He’d taken me from my home—albeit a shitty one—and thrown me into my own personal hell.

  I figured he’d take me to back down to my cage, the basement cold and lonely, the isolation my friend. But instead I found myself in a room, a window off to the side, a dresser beside the bed.

  He set me down on the mattress and moved over to the door, shutting it and keeping his body in front, blocking it. I looked out the window, the curtains pushed open slightly, the moon visible. There were bars covering the glass, and I wondered if it was to keep me in, or to keep others out.

  Tears still rolled down my cheeks as I looked back at Venom. He stood there, watching me almost curiously. I wanted to ask him why he’d brought me into this room, why he hadn’t taken me down to the basement.

  But the truth was, I was glad he hadn’t. I couldn’t have stayed one more minute down there in that prison, the darkness my companion.

  Venom

  * * *

  I’d left her in my room and headed back out to the bar. I didn’t know what had gotten into me. Allowing her out of the basement had been a tactic I’d thought would have her submit easily to me, maybe run into my fucking arms like I was some damn hero. But then I’d seen the fear in her eyes, the way she’d looked so innocent amongst all the fucking filth that surrounded her.

  And something in me had shifted.

  I didn’t like that, couldn’t fucking have that weakness in me where she was concerned.

  Yet I had her in my room right now, like she was my fucking guest, like I was going to wine and dine her.

  Shit.

  I scrubbed a hand over my head and sat at the bar. A prospect had a beer and shot in front of me seconds later.

  I saw Pip come out of the back room, his shirt untucked as he buttoned up his pants. A club whore trailed behind him looking like she’d been ridden hard and put away wet. Hell, she was even walking bow-legged. But, where Pip was concerned, he fucked them until they were crying, until he had scratch marks on his back, and the women were hobbling out, their pussies sore.

  Pip was still sporting a healing black eye from when I’d kicked his ass. That would teach that asshole to stick his nose where it didn’t belong.

  I stared down at the now empty shot glass and thought about Rebekah. She could try and escape, but she wouldn’t get far. With the fence surrounding the entire clubhouse, the security cameras, and the bars on the windows, I’d catch her pretty little ass before she made it ten feet from the front door.

  Truth was, it had been overkill chaining her up. It hadn’t been to keep her in the basement as my prisoner, but to get to her mentally, to make her think there really was no escape. It was a bastard thing to do but then again, I never claimed to be a good man.

  I was far from it, in fact.

  Yet I had her in my room.

  My fucking room.

  I had a screw loose to think this was a good idea. But as I’d seen her run, the fear coming off her in waves, then seen her go down and sob, her body trembling … broken, something in me had snapped. I’d picked her up and carried her to my space. I’d keep her there, have her trust me, have her smell like me.

  That last bit had this low growl of pleasure leaving me.

  “Shit,” I said under my breath and scrubbed a hand over my face. I needed to get my shit together, because letting her get under my skin was not going to happen.

  She was here for my revenge, and I’d stick to the plan.

  Chapter Seven

  Rebekah

  I wished I could go back in time and not be at that bus stop. If given the chance there’s no way I’d have left home. Tears spilled from my eyes as I watched the blurry figure enter his bedroom.

  Venom.

  The man who’d stolen me away.

  Who wanted to hurt me so badly that I could taste it in the air that surrounded us.

  He released a sigh that seemed to echo off the walls. What’s his problem?

  “I know you’re not asleep.”

  Gritting my teeth, I ignored him, but opened my eyes.

  He didn’t deserve my words.

  There’s nothing I’d ever done to deserve this kind of treatment.

  I was a nice person to everyone even if they didn’t deserve it. But with Venom, I’d never give him the satisfaction of making this easy for him.

  “You’re going to behave like a child?”

  I wanted to snap at him, to take my rage out on him. How did he expect me to react? I wasn’t exactly here of my own free will. He’d taken me against it. This had nothing to do with me, and the fact that he thought it did annoyed the hell out of me.

  I stayed silent.

  When he pulled off his shirt, my already overreacting heart seemed to stop. He was covered in ink. I couldn’t make out exactly what the designs were, but they were angry, violent in appearance. I wan
ted to look away but then he’d know I was actually looking at him, and I didn’t want to give him the pleasure of thinking he’d won.

  His jeans went next, and then he stood in boxer briefs. He turned to look at me, and to avoid his gaze, I closed my eyes.

  Seconds later the bed dipped and I clenched my teeth together, hoping he wouldn’t touch me. Not because I found it repulsive, but because of the opposite, and that pissed me off the most.

  The bed sheet lifted and he climbed in beside me.

  All I wanted to do was to keep my eyes shut and pretend.

  Pretend I was back home where everyone ignored me.

  I wanted my drawing book back.

  Had he tossed it out like trash?

  Rolling away from him as I felt his breath against my face, I tensed as he wrapped his arm around me, pulling me close to his body.

  Didn’t he have a freaking clue about personal space?

  I stared across the bedroom.

  The music from downstairs seemed to vibrate up.

  That woman, the one who’d gotten gangbanged, she’d looked … consumed. Why would men do that to her? Why would she want that?

  I’d never even seen a naked man before, and now I’d witnessed depravity. This wasn’t the life I wanted.

  A loving husband, a couple of kids, a nice house that didn’t roll anywhere and didn’t sound like bullets whenever there was a hail storm.

  Love.

  Security.

  That’s all I wanted.

  “If you run, I will catch you, Rebekah. It won’t end well for you if you do that again.”

  Gritting my teeth, I kept my eyes open even as his breath fanned my neck.

  His cock was nestled against my ass.

  Surprisingly, it wasn’t rock hard and that was some consolation that he wasn’t going to rape me.

  It made me wonder if women had been killed in the basement. Did he have any morals?

  I needed to get out of here.

  I didn’t care about the consequences. The moment I could make my escape, I was gone.

 

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