by Forgy, M. N.
Swallowing, her eyes flutter as she stares at me with a hard look. Her thick lashes casting a shadow on her dark eyes. I’ve never seen eyes like hers before, they look black. Matching her hair. Maybe that’s why they call her Raven.
“Your tactics are weak. I’ve been through hell, been through pain and I’m not afraid to die,” she states seriously, her face stoic and eyes cold. It unhinges something in me so dark and feral I can barely breathe. Something I can relate to. I want to pull her from this chair and shake her, strangle her until the fear I seek peaks in the depths of her eyes. What can I say, I’m fucked up. A woman broke my heart and I’ve never been around one I could look in the eyes since. I’ll never feel that powerless, vulnerable, fucking scared again. Love broke me, and love is what made me an animal.
I once loved a woman who didn’t feel the same about me, she wanted someone else and that would never happen while my cold heart was still beating. The day I was going to murder them both for betraying me, Zeek found me in a hardware store where I was seeking the perfect tool to kill them with- A machete. He talked me down and gave me a home, and a purpose. Placing me as a member of the Sin City Outlaws.
It worked for a little awhile, but I couldn’t stand to see her with someone else so I killed her lover, only to find out that her loss was too much for her to bear so she took her own life. My wife killed herself because I killed her lover. I am responsible for losing her for good.
It was two and a half years ago, but the scars on my soul never healed and I became numb.
I became this.
I can never get close to a woman again.
I can’t go through that pain of losing someone I love. I get too attached; too dominant for them to handle.
“You won’t break her like that,” A female voice sounds behind me. Turning around Alessandra, my Vice President Felix’s girlfriend, stands there with her arms crossed, eyes teary. Alessandra’s brown hair is up in a ponytail and she’s wearing a pair of gym looking clothes. Cute and athletic as usual. She used to be a fucking cop until she fell hard for Felix and turned to our side.
Angry she’s here, I pull away from Raven and step outside the room, slamming the metal door behind me so Raven doesn’t see her.
“What the fuck are you doing here?” I scold. How did she even find this place? Where is Felix? This is club business, and she needs to let us handle this shit. Raven kidnapped Alessandra trying to settle a score, but she was working for Cross the whole time. For Alessandra to be here, it’s dangerous.
“I needed to see her, to see that you had her under control. She’s not going to be like anyone you’ve um… tortured before, Machete.” She rubs the back of her neck anxiously. “She’s conditioned to withstand this kind of thing,” she informs with a trembling voice. Raven and Alessandra were taken as kids and raised to be criminals by Cross. They were found at an older age, and Alessandra doesn’t remember much about her time as a prisoner, but from what I understand… Raven remembers it all.
Standing straight I catch that she might be onto something, as my knife to Raven’s neck and almost clipping her fucking finger off did nothing. Most men would be pissing themselves by now.
“Yeah, I got the part of her not being normal,” I sneer.
“She’s not scared of pain, you’ll have to dig much deeper,” she whispers the last part as if she remembers the pain of her past. I flick a brow, maybe she does remember something.
“Care to share?” I implore, and she just shoots me a grim look. She isn’t spilling shit, either because she can’t remember or she doesn’t want to.
“So what do you want me to do, tear her heart out?” I ask with furrowed brows, confused what she means by dig deeper. “Getting past the ribs will be a bitch but it can be done,” I inform, rubbing the back of my neck as I think what I have on hand that would even get through that kind of bone easily.
Her eyes widen at my savage statement, and I look at her with a side-eye. Did I say something wrong?
“What? No, like mental warfare. Take her back to the days she was a kid trapped in that cage or something.” She looks down, before looking up at me through wet lashes. “Can I see her?” My heart skips a beat that she wants in there with that devil bitch. Alessandra has dark circles under her eyes, and now that I’m close enough I can tell she hasn’t slept. She looks like shit.
“No. It’s not safe,” I clip, and she frowns. Her phone rings some girly song, and she startles. Shoving a hand down her bra she pulls out her cell phone. By the look on her face, I can tell it’s Felix, probably looking for her. She quiets the phone, shoving it back in her bra.
“How did you find this place?” I ask. Only patch holders of the Sin City Outlaws know of this place. If Felix told her, I’ll beat his ass.
“I’m a cop. Was a cop,” she corrects herself as if that answers everything. “Let me know if I can help.” Giving a weak smile she turns and walks out without another word.
Well, that was fucking awkward.
Rubbing my bottom lip with my thumb I look at the metal door containing my prisoner. Being an asshole isn’t getting me anywhere, maybe if I’m nice she will open up some? Trust me and shit. That sounds fucking stupid now that I think it, but I’ve seen people break for some stupid shit. Rolling my eyes, I go over to the sink and fill a half clean glass with some tap water.
Cup in my hand, I head back into the cell and hunch in front of Raven. Her dark eyes fall on mine, her arms tied to the chair and legs spread to each ankle is bound. She kind of reminds me of that chick in The Ring.
“Drink some water,” I try to ask nicely, but my tone of voice is laced with hardness. She doesn’t reply, so I hold it up to her lips and surprisingly she takes some into her mouth. I smile that she accepted, maybe I’m heading in the right direction after all. Her porn star lips wrap around the glass perfectly and it makes my dick jolt in my jeans. Just as I pull the glass away her lips pucker and she spits cold spitty water right into my face.
“Fucking bitch!” Standing up straight. I use my arm to wipe my face off and stare daggers at her. Being nice is off the fucking table!
She giggles, proud of herself and I want to shove this glass down her goddamn throat. I throw what is left of the water into her face and she chokes on it mid laugh. Not looking, I throw the cup over my shoulder and it breaks in the other room.
She blows water off her lips, her eyes blinking rapidly.
Raven has been through it all, and if I’m going to break her, I’m going to have to do more to her than anyone before me. Like Alessandra said, I’m going to have to get in her head.
I’ll have to beat the hellish life bestowed upon her and take it to the next level. That or she’s done fighting and is trying to get me to end her suffering.
“If you’re trying to get me to kill you, you’re going to have to try a lot harder than that,” I growl with a heated tone. Her eyes flash with anger and she closes her eyes. Her nostrils flaring as she breathes. Her pink lips suddenly part as she takes a deep breath, and I can’t help but raise my hand and run the pad of my finger over her soft wet lips. Her eyes snap open from my delicate touch, and I jerk my hand back. Rubbing my index finger and thumb together as if I might still be able to feel her silkiness.
She’s so soft, and angry.
There’s no denying she’s gorgeous, and my kind of woman. Psycho.
Needing a break from her darkness, I step outside of the room and sit on the couch. She raises her head, peering at me from under thick lashes. It’s sexy to see her helpless. God, she’s fucking something. It makes me wonder why Zeek picked me to do this. He knows how I feel about being around women.
Sprawling my arms out along the back of the couch we stare at each other, our eyes doing the talking as the tension in the room escalates to all new levels.
She runs her tongue along her bottom lip, soaking up some water droplets, before tucking it between her white teeth.
Her striking beauty makes me breathless. I can’t d
o what is expected of me if all I can think about is touching her and looking at her. I could sit here on this shitty couch all day and watch her. The smell of mildew and lack of sunlight worth it.
Standing from the couch, I need to do something to make my ass focus on the job at hand.
Heading into her room, my boots thud against the floor, catching her attention. Her head whips in my direction, her bound body keeping it to where she can’t look at me fully as I step behind her.
I fist her blanket of black hair, jerking her head back. Her errant eyes meet mine and her mouth parts. I clench my fingers around her locks, strands snapping from my harsh grip, and she whimpers, that excites me. It’s something to show I’m in control, not her. The smell of something spicy and fruity wafts around me and I can’t help but bend down and run my nose along the arch right behind her ear. If this is what sin smells like, douse me in it.
Fuck! I shake my head trying to pull myself together.
Fisting my machete, I press it under the ponytail in my other grip. Her shoulders go taut, her body tensing.
“What are you doing?” She jerks at her restraints, the sound of her near hyperventilating the fuel I long for. I slice the blade through her silky hair, watching it feather to the floor. She gasps, her eyes widening like saucers, her eyes filling with tears as she comes to realize I cut it.
Bending down I pick up a black lock of hair and dangle it in between my middle finger and index finger right in front of her.
“YOU FUCKING ASSHOLE!” she cries, her body shaking with rage as if I just cut her delicate skin and not her damn hair.
The chair rocks as she goes nuts, that wall of defiance breaking brick by brick. She’s hysterical, and fuck me if it’s not amazing to see.
Her jaw clenches, tears slipping out of her raw eyes. It takes me aback that something as simple as me cutting her hair makes her break rather than a knife to her throat. And it did nothing to fade her beauty, she’s still gorgeous with choppy black hair.
“Are we so shallow that cutting your hair makes you angry, Black Beauty?” I chuckle. A tear slips down her cheek, her nostrils flaring as she stares at me with hatred. I have no doubt if she was released from that chair she would try everything in her power to kill me. It’s tempting really.
“I don’t give a fuck about how I look,” she replies with a hard voice. Standing back, I observe her reaction, curious why she flipped out I cut her hair then. Dig deeper.
“Then why are you crying?” I ask. Seeing sadness leak from someone so strong. Smirking, I thumb it off her face and look down at her.
“Because I’m so fucking mad and can’t do anything about it!” she seethes, and that is when I realize, this issue has a grave much deeper than I would have thought.
“Did Cross cut your hair?” I assume, and her face turns a shade of pink telling me I’m onto something, her anger fading into something else. That stoic look that takes her to another place, slowly slipping over her face.
Bending down, I fist each arm of the chair, making sure my face is right in hers. Tear filled eyes look right back at me, her cheeks flushed from anger. I can’t help but smell her being this close. She’s sweet and innocent, and I can’t decide if I want to hurt her or devour her. Maybe both.
“I’m paving this road to hell, Raven, it’s up to you how we get there.” I need to take her back to when she was a kid, and without Alessandra knowing much about that time and Raven not giving up shit. I’m going to have to guess what it was like being locked in a cage as a kid and forced to fight to live.
“Fuck you,” she seethes so quietly it’s almost a whisper. Her forehead sweats, her face flushing.
“You couldn’t handle my cock baby,” I sneer, but my dick hardens thinking about me sinking into her pussy. I wonder if she’s loose or tight. Shaven or bare, or maybe she has that little strip right down the center.
“You fuck a lot of men or are you a prude?” I can’t help but ask. Head lowered she peers at me through hooded eyes, her jaw ticking with uncontrollable anger. I laugh in response.
“A girl growing up without a daddy, I’m going to say you like the cock,” I assume, but she doesn’t reply. Striding behind her, she doesn’t move. “Then again, you could hate men so much, maybe you play for the other team?” I run my finger over the nape of her neck and her little hairs stand on end.
Having enough for now, I turn to leave and turn the one lonely light off on my way out. I can hear her jerk in her restraints as she whimpers.
“Wait!” she screams bloody murder, and it’s like fucking music to my ears. I stop to turn, hoping she’s going to tell me something I want to hear.
“Please, turn the light back on!” she begs, and a wolfish smile fills my face. We hit the begging stage. This woman amazes me.
“Are we afraid of the dark?” I tilt my head to the side. She jerks both hands, her cheeks hollowing out as she uses all of the muscle in her body to pull free from the rope.
“Don’t do it, please don’t leave me in the dark!” Her voice laced with despair that ignites my inner beast. Lowering my head, my eyes gleaming at hers I silently tell her who her master is.
“Nighty night, pet,” and I slam the door shut, the lights off. The sound of the heavy door closing echoes through the underground confinement that makes up my home until my job is done.
“Come back here, please!” The sound of her pulling and jerking in the chair sounds through the thick door. I stand there, mystified that she’s terrified of the dark, petrified even. Interesting…
Scratching my beard, I eye the door curious how the fuck I’m going to go about this. Normally I would cut a finger off or slice a captive’s cheek open until you see teeth. But she’s not scared of pain, it won’t work. But she’s fucking terrified of something as simple as the fucking dark.
I’m out of my league here.
This isn’t going to be easy.
Raven
Chapter One
Raven
My eyes are wide open but all I see is pitch black. It’s silent, the only sound to be heard is the rhythm of my fear slamming against my chest like a jackhammer against unbreakable concrete. It’s so dark in here it’s deafening. My mouth is dry, and my lips tremble from the sudden darkness that blankets my skin in coldness. I can’t move my fingers from the restricted flow of the ropes secured tightly around my sore wrists, and my neck aches from sitting in this hard chair. I feel sick to my stomach from that fucking morphine too.
It smells like an old basement in here, like mildew with the faint metallic smell of blood in the air as well. I begin to squirm where I sit, as my need to pee is becoming uncomfortable. Something crawls across my hand and I jerk my arm trying to free it from the unknown critter. I can’t see what it is and I squeal as I pull as hard as I can against the ropes. The burn against the skin no match for my fear of the dark. I’m terrified of the dark and feel smothered to the point I can barely breathe. It’s like I’m in a coffin, buried alive and nobody can hear me… or doesn’t care. It comes from a past of being locked in the dark so long you can’t tell what time of day it is… or what day it is for that matter. A past I can’t let go of or move on from because it’s all I know.
Machete is even more intimidating up close than a feral animal. His shoulders are wide, and biceps large. His angular jaw strong, and emerald eyes piercing and cold. His red hair shaggy falling in his face in that menacing way it does. One look in my direction has me holding my breath, and squeeze my thighs together as a rush of arctic air falls upon my skin like snow in the depth of winter.
He’s handsome. In a crazy Psycho kind of way.
When he was running after me in the desert his footsteps were heavy, strong, and made my heart pick up its pace. I didn’t even know my heart could do that anymore, and it excited me to know I was still alive somewhere deep inside.
I furrow my brows in thought remembering his leather cut held an Enforcer patch instead of a Road Captain one. Last time I saw Machete he
held the position of a Road Captain, he must have been promoted recently. An enforcer protects all of the patch holders and protects the club’s reputation in any type of conflict. He assists all members of the club in combat in any type of weapon or fistfights. He is basically the fucking Rocky for the club. Machete looks every bit of the part too.
He’s an animal, a beast with no compassion. I’ll have to dig up the strength of the little girl that I once was if I’m going to survive this, push my fear to the back and overcome the man that may have a past darker than my own. A life so bleak that we’re constantly moving and tracing our steps from the past that we don’t see what is in front of us until it’s too late. We’re soulless creatures walking amongst the living.
I’m so fucked. I’m trapped again, locked away and kept prisoner. I begin to hyperventilate thinking about it, and I squeeze my eyes shut trying to calm myself. Why won’t they just kill me and get it over with? The darkness, the mildew smell. It’s all too familiar, like deja vu. I can’t believe he cut my fucking hair, just like when I was kidnapped and caged by Cross as a child. They butchered my hair to the point you couldn’t tell if I was a girl or boy. A control tactic. It may seem insignificant, but it mattered to a little girl who had nothing but time to braid her hair in a dirt filled cage. I hang my head as I cry softly to myself. I once thought I’d escape my past, but how can I if my past is who I am. How do I kill the demon inside of me without killing myself? I’m a fucked up misfit. Capable of nothing but savage ruthless acts and nothing more.
Jerking my head up I scream. “Please!” I beg one more time, knowing it’s useless but sitting here in the dark, flashbacks try and take over my line of sight.
Twirling my hair, I listen to the bats chirp overhead. The dirt sticks to my knees and is causing a red rash to form across the skin.
“Raven, you’re up!” my handler informs, stepping in front of my cage. He always calls me Black or Raven. Depends what mood he’s in. He’s tall and wears a bandanna over the lower half of his face, the fabric made up of a skull’s jaw. He’s bald and has the craziest blue eyes I’ve ever seen. I swallow back my fear and lift my chin. I will win this round. I will make my handler proud. We are all here for a purpose, to serve and fight. For what? I don’t know, they haven’t told us yet. But if I win, I get food, so who cares?