by Forgy, M. N.
“There you go,” I whisper into the back of her neck, my hand caressing her delicate cheek. The peach fuzz on the nape of her neck caressing the tip of my nose.
“She’s good, let her go,” Mac states from behind me. Looking up through hooded eyes, I glare at him. I don’t want to let her go, I want to hold her and smell her, feel her fear rattle through her limbs as she discovers I’m her keeper.
Reluctantly, I release her, and she drops to the ground heavily. Like a baby giraffe just born, she tries to pull herself up on all fours but doesn’t have the strength. She’s not going anywhere with that morphine racing through her veins. She’s at our mercy, we can do whatever we want to her and she’s helpless.
I hear crying, and look up to find Alessandra embraced in Felix’s arms. She’s bleeding and half naked. Raven really did a number on her.
Zeek strides up to us, his dark hair hanging in his face as he assesses Raven. He’s my president and a loyal brother of the Sin City Outlaws MC. This is my life, and everything I am and know. I owe it all to him because without him I’d be more lost than I am today.
“Take her to the east warehouse. You know what to do from there on out.” He flicks a brow at me, silently telling me he wants me to takeover and I give a curt nod. He just gave me this girl to play with, to torture for intel. My pet and fucking toy until further notice. He bends down and grabs her by the face harshly, his fingers digging into the flesh of her jaw. Foggy eyes find his, her body swaying as she fights the sleep trying to wash over her.
“You will give me the whereabouts of Cross, or die. Do you understand?”
She spits at him before laughing in a daze. Zeek inhales an angry breath and throws her onto her back.
“By any means necessary,” Zeek grants me my fucking wish. My goddamn birthday! God she’s going to be fun to play with and break.
“I’ll take care of it,” I state. I swallow hard realizing this will be the first female I’ve been ordered to torture for information. I don’t fuck around with bitches unless my dick is deep inside of them, and I keep that with as little communication as I can. No eye contact, no talking, and no fucking call-backs.
Women are an evil breed that causes you to do things and feel things before you even realize what’s happening. Their cherry lips, soft skin, and tempting smells make it impossible to avoid their allure.
I don’t just gently fall in love with a woman either, I starve for their affection, and drown in an addictive obsession. I give them fucking everything my soul has to offer, but my cracks and scars come with it, and that’s sometimes too much for a real woman to handle.
Bending down I pick her body up and toss her over my shoulder. She attempts to slap my back, but her fight is pathetic. She’s so high right now she can’t see straight let alone try and escape.
Mac opens the club’s van door, the seats have been taken out leaving an open cab. I shove Raven’s limp body in and climb in beside her. Mac shuts the door and gets behind the steering wheel, starting the van’s engine. Pulling out of the desert the vehicle bounces and swerves trying to make purchase of the rough terrain. Glancing down at the black beauty before me, she stares back with a bit of devil in her eyes. She’s a tornado with a pretty face and a dark soul, I can see it.
She reaches out with delicate grace, her fingers just reaching the ends of my beard. She smells sweet and looks soft to the touch. Tempting.
“Kill me?” she whispers, her fingertips caressing my cheek. I want to push my body onto her, and feel her warmth against my skin one more time before I take her life and her body cools. I’m going to enjoy her. She’s dark and twisted.
I smile and bend down to get closer to her. Running my hand through her soft black hair I pet her, brushing her loose hairs away from her face. Fuck, I’m excited to play with her, hear her scream and watch her fear me. To quickly kill someone as pretty and smart as her would be a goddamn waste. Like breaking a toy before you got a chance to play with it, this needs to be done slowly.
“Oh no sweetheart, the fun is just about to start,” I threaten in a low whisper.
Something dark passes over her face, but she doesn’t break eye contact. It’s almost as if she sobers completely.
Suddenly a foot strikes me in the chest and I sail into the side of the van. The little bitch has a punch behind her. She wobbles herself up on her hands in a drunken daze from the morphine, and with all her might pulls open the van door. A whoosh of warm air drifts through the cab of the van, as she leans out the door ready to jump. Her hair wafting around her like a black halo. One that was on fire, but recently snuffed out.
“Get her, Machete!” Mac orders, before slamming on the accelerator in an attempt to keep her from jumping. It causes Raven and I both to fly into the back of the van making the two back doors jerk open as our bodies bash into them. We tumble out of the van roughly, hands and limbs flailing as we roll onto the dirt road.
The skin on my arms feel like it’s being ripped off from the dirt and gravel, and one of her hands slap me in the face as we fall out.
“Motherfucker!” I bellow as my body slams against the hard ground unforgivingly. The fall doesn’t seem to bother her as much as she tries to climb to her feet and run before she even comes to a standstill. She trips as she tries to escape, and her movements are very slow. It’s kind of entertaining actually, like hunting a clumsy deer in the desert. More legs than brain.
I reach for my gun and aim at her. Biting my bottom lip, I second guess damaging the goods before I even get a chance to play with them. I aim it at the sky and fire a round. She screams and falls to the ground clutching her ears. I furrow my brows surprised that worked. Gotta be the drugs making it seem louder than it is.
Running up to her, I pull her up off the ground by her hair and she whines in protest. Black silk wraps around my fingers as I jerk her around. Her nails dig into my knuckles as she tries to pull away from me.
“Get the fuck off me, you freak!” she hisses with clenched teeth. Scratch marks slice across my hand as she resists and I relish in the pain. Like fighting a wild cat.
“Well, aren’t you a ray of fucking darkness,” I seethe. She takes a deep ragged breath, her fight slowing as she looks up at me with glossy eyes. God, she’s as fucking irritating as she is gorgeous.
“Are you going to murder me?” she asks so calmly it causes the hairs on my neck to rise. This bitch ain’t right. In all my days as an Outlaw, nobody has asked me that.
“Do you want me to?” I ask softly, and she just blinks in response. The soft crook of her neck moving as she swallows. My blade would slice through that soft skin like fucking butter.
Bending down I brush my nose against the shell of her ear, and I not only hear, but feel the gulp of air she gasps. God, to have control is a fucking adrenaline rush! I want this bitch to obey me and know I am her only hope of life.
“It’s only murder if they find a body, and right now… you’re just a missing person, baby,” I growl, and her eyes widen to saucers as if the thought of nobody finding her scares her more than death itself. Laughing maniacally, I throw her over my arm and carry her back to the van.
Teeth suddenly sink into the skin of my arm and I growl through the pain, my arm flexing as her sharp teeth slice through my flesh like a rabid bitch. Grabbing the nape of her neck, I tear her off my fucking arm and shove her in the van roughly. She looks up at me, ebony hair in her dark eyes, her mouth stained with my blood, and as fucked up as it is, the sight of it has my dick jump in my pants. She’s the kind of crazy you could get addicted to quickly. My eyes fall on the bungee cord laying on the van floor. Reaching for it, I wrap it around her body and the passenger seat, latching the hooks together so she can’t try that escaping shit again. I give the strap a hard pull to make sure it’s snug, and she glares at me.
I wink at her.
“We good?” Mac asks with concerned eyes. His hands white-knuckling the steering wheel. I eye my arm where she sunk her teeth into it, blood slow
ly drips from. The crimson indentation of her bite marks like little vampire footprints in my flesh.
My eyes flick to hers, her dark glazed irises sucking me into a world of crazy even I didn’t know existed. This is going be one fucking ride. What the hell was Zeek thinking giving her to me?
“Yeah, let’s just get her to the fucking warehouse before anything else happens.”
Machete
Twenty-Four Hours Later
Sitting on the plaid couch, the material is rough and scratchy against my skin. It’s uncomfortable and makes me miss the leather sofa at the clubhouse. I look across the way at the large metal, bolted door concealing a ten by ten room with no windows and with only one light casting a shadow of nothing but pain and secrets. It also inhabits my biggest challenge yet. A female, one that has butter soft skin and jet-black hair. Her dark eyes matching her soul, black and cold. She has a face that has the cheekbones of a model and a jaw that is sharp and reminds me of a bitch that should be walking down Broadway rather than running mayhem in the underbelly of Vegas.
Raven is my fucking enemy, and one I will torture to get to the truth my club needs by all means necessary. Men break easily, I’m curious how long it will take for a female to give the whereabouts of Cross. Cross is Zeek’s estranged father who betrayed the club by trying to undermine Zeek and take it over with is Uncle Frank. Frank thought he owned Vegas and the club. He was wrong. We put a stop to that shit real quick by killing Frank, but Cross escaped. Leaving us all on edge, and goddamn targets. Frank and Cross also had the mafia behind them as they took over the casino that sits next to our club, so that means we aren’t just trying to find Cross, but the fucking mafia is pissed at us for running off their paychecks. Finding Cross will end all of our troubles, but we have no idea where he is.
But Raven does.
Flexing my fingers around my machete, the one Zeek got me when I was patched in two years ago. I stare at the reflection of myself in the steel blade. My reddish hair is longer on top than the sides, my green eyes looking back at me with a lost look. I’ve aged the last three years, you can see it. I hold a hardness about me that wasn’t once there.
They say I’m a fucking soulless animal, lost of compassion and out of fucks to give. Cold to the touch and hard on the eyes.
They’re right.
Somewhere down the line I lost sight of humanity and stepped out of the sun to live in the dark. It’s quieter, and more entertaining around those that lurk in the shadows. The rules are simpler but bloodier.
I push myself off the couch and slowly walk toward where Raven is being held captive. Peeking through the crack of the metal door and the doorframe I watch her closely. She’s gorgeous and tormented. Like a doll a kid has played too roughly with and left outside to wither.
I want to play with her too.
She’s tied to a chair with a small stretch of duct-tape over her mouth rendering her helpless. I like that. A lot. Some of her black hair is stuck under the tape and it makes her look more vulnerable. She’s crying, her face smeared with dirt and tears.
I want to taste those tears.
A growl escapes my throat stalking her like she’s my prey, and her head whips in my direction. My heart hammers in my chest, my teeth clenched as I watch her watch me. Dark wild eyes stare at the door as she mumbles something behind the tape. She jerks her body with narrowed eyes and my hands ball into hard fists at her squirming. I sense no fear, or terror coming from her. I’m not sure if I like that or not. It’s a first. Everyone is scared of me. I’m not… right.
She is mine though. They gave her to me. I will break her, and find the enemy of my brotherhood if it kills me. Even if I have to kill her. I grab the closest tool off the table next to me and kick the heavy door open. A roar ripping up my throat with a pair of wire cutters in my hand. Her eyes slowly meet mine, her nostrils flaring. She’s seems unmoved by my actions, and it confuses me. She doesn’t look at me with fear or terror, but defiance. Maybe I’ve lost my touch and I’m just reading her wrong.
Striding up to her, my boots thud against the cold concrete. I rip the tape from her mouth and eye her with hooded eyes.
“Shit!” she cries from the quick swipe of the tape pulling at her skin. A bright red rectangle marks her beautiful plush lips. I wait for her to give in first and talk. Plead for me to understand, offer to suck my dick for mercy. They all do at some point, and she will too.
Slowly she turns her head upward, her eyes hooking me where I stand.
“Give me your best shot, you fucking animal,” she spits, her dark hair sticking to her pretty little lips from the left over adhesive.
I laugh. It starts small, then turns into something maniacal.
“Aw, you’re a feisty little cunt.” I grab onto the arms of the chair, my face in hers. “I like that,” I state in a guttural whisper. Her eyes jump back and forth between mine, her dark eyebrows furrowed inward as she stares at me with pure hatred. Unmoved by my insults or threats.
Bringing the wire cutters up, I give them a quick snip into the air.
“You sure you don’t want to change your mind and give me what I want?” I offer her one last chance. She stares straight ahead as if I have no effect on her. It pisses me off. Most men would be squirming in this chair, trying to get as far away from me as they can.
Positioning the clippers above her soft knuckle she doesn’t flinch or cry harder. If anything she calms, as if she’s left this existence and went somewhere else mentally. Interesting. I apply pressure, the sharp pinch of the blades touching her skin but she doesn’t respond in the slightest. This takes me aback, and I lift the clippers away from her skin, unhappy with my lack of results. Maybe she doesn’t understand the severity of her situation. What I am capable of with just a simple pair of wire cutters. I’ve cracked fucking ribs with these things.
“You know, all it takes is the slightest bit of pressure for this to slice through the tissue of your finger and snap your bone like a stick,” I inform her. She continues to look ahead, not giving a fuck. “You’ll bleed a lot, and it will probably get an infection. Then your whole hand will turn colors as your own blood poisons your body,” I continue, trying to scare her. My voice rugged and grim.
“Just fucking do it if it will shut you up,” she shakes her head, looking the other way.
What.The.Fuck?
Anger pulses in my neck, my teeth gritting so hard I swear one cracks. Who does she think she’s fucking with?
I push the blade into the flesh of her finger, and a trickle of blood slips down her finger and drips on the floor, but she just breathes through the pain as if it’s a mere papercut rather than rusty blades. I pull the wire cutters away before they go too deep, completely mind fucked by her lack of terror. I’m not enjoying this, why isn’t she screaming like a little bitch? I run the pad of my finger along the wire cutter to test its sharpness and it cuts my skin instantly. I furrow my brows unsure how to respond to this situation.
“Are you ready to talk?” I ask, crossing my arms. Hoping she tells me something after the effort I just put in. She stays silent and lowers her head as I expected. What is wrong with this bitch?
I kick the chair, making her jump where she sits. Dark eyes glaring at me.
“Where is Cross, Raven?” I demand, and a wolfish smile crosses her face before a deep laugh wracks her body. The sound fueling my fury I can’t help but lash out and dig my fingers into her sharp jaw, my nostrils flaring with the urge to crush it, and I could easily do so. She so soft, like a little kitten, one I could easily kill.
The darkest brown eyes I’ve ever seen stare into me without a glint of and it’s fucking with my head. I was excited to play with her, now I want her to talk and get the fuck out of my existence.
“This will go a lot easier if you just fucking give the asshole up, cupcake,” I insult, and she tries to head-butt me, but I swerve out of the way. My eyes widen at her bravery, my mouth parting with disbelief at the amount of fight she has in her.
I know this bitch was raised by the ways of Cross, but holy shit if she isn’t tough.
Dropping the clippers on the floor, I whip my knife from its sheath and put it up against her silky soft neck, and her snarky little smile fades, her eyes looking up at me as she crooks her neck as far back as it can go.
One swipe of this machete against her neck and she will bleed out in seconds. Then again I will have failed my club and gotten nothing out of her, and my playtime will end. Decisions, decisions.
I notice her bottom lip barely tremble, and pleasure fills my chest like a tidal wave. Her eyes dart to mine and I can’t help but smile in return. She knows I saw that little bit of panic.
The pale face look I’ve been searching for masking her pretty skin. For her to know I am in control of her life, and she will obey me from now on puts everything back at play.
“I will slice you the fuck open, do you understand that?” I growl through clenched teeth, trying to contain myself as I press the blade into her silky skin. My hand sweats on the handle as I stare down at this mystical creature.
“You don’t scare me,” she whispers, and the words sting as if I just cut my own throat.
“Then you’re stupid. I’ve taken many lives with this machete and if I have to, I will take yours. It’s just another ghost to me.” I shrug, my tone indifferent.