Taming Blade (Kings Reapers MC Book 5)

by Nicola Jane

  “Relax,” I whisper. “I’ll win.”

  “You’ve lost your mind. Everyone’s lost their goddamn mind.”

  “My mum wasn’t always bad,” I say. It’s been hours since we saw anyone and the beatings have stopped for now. I’m filling the silence with my rambling. “I have good memories of when I was probably around three. They’re not clear, but I remember laying my head on her lap while she read a story to me. She’d twiddle my hair and it would stay sticking out.” I close my eyes and try to picture her laughing, her shoulder-length hair blowing in front of her face while we ran in a field. I haven’t pictured her like this for so long, it’s a fuzzy memory. “She was eighteen when she had me,” I continue. “Everyone told her she wouldn’t make it. She was too young and my dad didn’t want to know, so it was just me and her.”

  Tillie edges closer, crossing her legs as I go on. “I don’t talk about her because I chose a long time ago to put it to bed. Those memories were haunting me day and night, and one day, I woke up from another fucking nightmare and I thought, no more. I won’t let her haunt me for the rest of my life. So I hid it all. I laughed and I made jokes and clowned around to hide it. It works because no one asks about my childhood. They assume I had a great upbringing because I laugh all the time. I’m happy.”

  “Are you happy?” she asks.

  I nod. “When I’m with you,” I say seriously, looking hard into her eyes. “When you ask about her, I want to tell you, but I hate the sad look it puts on your pretty little face, Sunshine. She was an evil woman in the end. I don’t know why it changed or what flipped her, but one day, she stopped putting good food on the table. I was hunting in the empty cupboards from the age of four. She didn’t get me up in the morning with kisses on my face like she used to. She just stopped being my mum.” I pause, remembering her face the last time I saw her. “It was like she went to sleep one night and then stopped caring. Angel one day and devil the next. Maybe it wasn’t like that, maybe the change was gradual, but as a kid, that’s how it seemed. She used to pinch me. It was over silly things to begin with. I hurt another kid at school and the teacher rang home. I was about five. She did it to teach me a lesson, to show me it hurt. It became every day—if I spilled a drink, if the house was messy, if I left a crumb of the non-existent food on the ground. Then she’d hit me around the head or across the body. It went from pokes to pinching to slapping to punching. I’d curl into a ball until she tired herself out.”

  “Didn’t anyone know, like a teacher?”

  I shake my head. “I wasn’t a good kid. I acted out, and I was violent and aggressive.”

  “That’s not surprising,” she says quietly.

  “She put on a good show to the teachers, played the struggling single mum. They’d tell me to be better for her, to be good. It made no sense to me, I was good for her, but she’d hurt me anyway. I got older and learned to keep my head down because at least if I was in school, I wasn’t with her. She drank herself into oblivion and I hid out at school. Once I hit thirteen, I started working out and keeping myself clean and well kept. The teachers never suspected a thing and girls distracted me.”

  “What happened to her?”

  I shrug. “She tried to get in touch when I was in the Forces. I burnt the letters. She has nothing to say that I want to hear. I don’t have a mum and I’m okay with that.”

  Tillie stands and wraps her arms around my waist, kissing me gently. “Thanks for telling me.”

  “I never got a chance to say, but I’m over the moon about the baby. You’ll be an amazing mum.”

  “I don’t think I’ve processed it yet. How could you not tell me?” she asks.

  “I focussed on preventing this,” I say, looking around the barn. “I wanted to make sure this didn’t happen and then I planned on a romantic announcement,” I say, grinning.

  “You don’t do romance, remember?”

  “Apparently, I don’t prevent bad situations either,” I say, and she smiles.

  “You were mad, I was mad, I decided to come back to London without you, knowing you had no way of getting home until at least the morning. I was planning to call you before then and explain everything once we were both calm. It made sense to me but I should have known your stubborn arse would come back.”

  The door opens again, and this time, it’s an older man in a suit. He opens a laptop. “Ms. Edwards, I’m Richard, Mr. Petrova’s accountant. We’re depositing some money into Mr. Petrova’s business account.”

  Tillie points to her back pocket and he takes out the book her mum gave her. He opens it and nods in approval. He taps away on his laptop and within two minutes, he closes it again and leaves. Once the door is shut, Tillie smiles and holds up a pen. “I got this,” she whispers, and I smile. She’s learning quickly.

  TILLIE

  Hunger becomes a real struggle at some point in the middle of the night. I have no idea what time it is, but it’s dark outside. My body shakes from cold and hunger and I’m seriously looking at the pigs and wondering how much effort it would take to overpower one of those huge hunks of meat. Blade jumps, his chains clanking. He keeps dropping to sleep and waking with a start. He takes a deep breath, and when his eyes land on me, he smiles weakly.

  “Tell me about Cobra,” I mumble. I need a distraction.

  “I share one thing and now you want it all,” he says, smiling.

  “It’s either talk about the bastard who put us here or eat a pig. I’m easy with either,” I say, shrugging, and he laughs.

  “I kept it all from you. You were so innocent to this way of life before and I wanted to keep it that way. I thought I could shelter you.” He shakes his head. “I was stupid, and look where it got us.”

  “I’m just curious about him,” I mutter. “I don’t care about him.”

  “Chains went to Manchester. We have other MC charters and that was one of them. Cobra was heading it up, but Chains said he was a sick fucker. The parties were out of control, rapes, drugs, women kept there against their will. It was nothing like the Kings. Chains got out of there when they pinned a woman down and asked him to rape her. He took the girl and Raven and made a run for it. We went there and ended the club, closed it down. But Riggs gave Cobra a chance, something he doesn’t do often. He let Cobra walk because at the end of the day, he was still a brother. He trusted him to keep his head down, but that didn’t happen.”

  I tuck my legs underneath me and try to picture what he might have looked like. “Raven was there?”

  Blade nods. “Chains brought her back here. The other woman went into one of Vinn’s women’s shelters to get help. Raven’s a tough one, and she decided to stick with Chains. But Cobra came back to London. He tried to set up another MC to rival us. He sent someone to Chains’ place and had Raven hurt. She was bad. Cobra was ended because he came for us. It was us or him. There’s always a reason if someone dies at our hands.”

  “So when you met me, did you know he was my dad?” I ask.

  He shakes his head. “No. I stumbled upon your amazing liquorice and couldn’t stay away.” He grins. “Cobra asked the club to watch over you because he thought his enemies would come for you. That’s when I realised who you were.”

  “Why would you do him any favours?”

  “We weren’t. We decided it wasn’t our problem, but by then, I knew who you were and I couldn’t walk away knowing someone might hurt you because of that bastard.”

  “You should have,” I mutter. “Then you wouldn’t be here.”

  “But you would be and God knows what he’d be doing to you right now.”

  We fall silent. “Who killed him?” I eventually ask and he grins.

  “Oh, baby, you don’t give up. You’re taking advantage of a weak man. It’s not right,” he chuckles.

  I stand, moving towards him and placing my arms over his head. I kiss him gently and he groans. “I’m sorry,” I whisper. “No more secrets,” I add.

  He sighs. “Me. It was me.”

&nb
sp; I nod. It’s what I suspected, but I’m glad he’s finally been honest. I kiss him again. “Now, we just have to get out of here alive.” He rests his head against my shoulder and I find myself twiddling his hair absentmindedly. Seconds later, his soft snores make me smile. He needs his rest.

  The moment I’d been dreading all day is here. Viktor is sitting beside me like I’m his trophy bride while one of his men unfastens the chains on Blade’s wrists and ankles. Talking with Blade through the night, even under the sad circumstances, has made me feel closer to him. The fact he might now end up seriously hurt—or worse—makes me sick to my stomach. I’ve spent the entire day listening to those disgusting pigs crunch on Acid’s bones, and don’t get me wrong, I’m glad it was him and not me or Blade, but still . . . no one deserves to be eaten by pigs.

  Blade moves his neck from side to side, rounding his shoulders. There’re two men standing by looking smug. “My money is on the trained boxer,” whispers Viktor, and my heart aches even more. Of course, it was never going to be a fair fight.

  “You never explained what I’d get if I win,” says Blade.

  Viktor laughs loudly. “But you won’t, so why get your hopes up?”

  “It’s nice to be inspired,” he retorts.

  Viktor nods in agreement and then he grabs me by the chin and kisses me. His tongue pushes into my mouth, and despite me shoving at his chest, he doesn’t let go. When he eventually pulls away, I wipe my mouth and look at Blade, who is fighting to break free from two men holding him back. Viktor smiles. “How about that for inspiration? You lose and you get to watch the whole show,” he says. “Now, hurry, that kiss has me all warmed up.”

  The men take Blade into a makeshift ring of ropes tied around traffic cones. There’re stools around it with more men waiting to see the fight. Viktor grabs me by the hand and leads me to two spare stools. This whole thing is crazy and I keep poking myself, praying it’s a nightmare.

  Blade’s first up against a man matching his size. Viktor leans close. “This is the boxer,” he says, winking. A bell rings and the men circle each other with their fists raised. The opponent moves first, taking a jab at Blade, who blocks it. “You know, it’s all pointless. He can win or lose, I’m still taking you from him and keeping you as my pet,” says Viktor, and all hope leaves me. I’ve got to watch Blade get beat to death, and then this monster is still taking me.

  “I’m pregnant,” I mutter.

  Viktor’s eyes narrow and then he smiles that creepy grin once again. “I can sort that for you,” he says coolly. “My sister got pregnant at thirteen. Obviously, it was out of wedlock. We couldn’t have her shame the family.” I wince as Blade takes a punch to the jaw. “I punched that bastard right out of her,” he adds. I cover my mouth, bile rising in my throat. “Yes, it hurt, but it solved her problem. She was thankful in the end.”

  I hadn’t given much thought until right now about how much this baby means to me, but the threat of this jackass taking it away from me . . . never gonna happen!

  “You’re a monster,” I mutter, trying to blink back tears.

  “A psychopath,” he corrects. “I’ve seen many experts about it. They can’t help me.”

  Blade glances at me, and I try to wipe the tears away. He needs to concentrate on this fight, not what's happening over here, and fuck knows, I’m sick of crying. As if he reads my mind, he homes in on his opponent and backs him into a corner before punching him over and over. I bite my lip to stop me screaming words of encouragement. It shouldn’t be enjoyable, and in any other circumstance, I’d probably vomit, but he’s trying to save us and he’s doing a damn fine job of it.

  “Well, look at that,” says Viktor. “You have a little psychopath of your very own,” he muses.

  Another man enters the ring. This time, Blade doesn’t waste any time. He beats this guy down within seconds. Viktor signals for another man to enter. Blade’s beginning to look tired, but he doesn’t give up. The third guy is a little fresher and catches Blade a few times in his already broken ribs, then a fourth guy steps into the ring, teaming up against him. “That’s not fair,” I yell.

  Viktor grins. “Your boyfriend won’t get out of the ring alive, silly girl.”

  “I am not a silly girl,” I hiss, glaring at him. “You spoke about living by a code and here you are letting your men beat him to death. How about you get in there with him!”

  I don’t see the slap until my face stings and my eyes water. He grabs a handful of my hair and drags me back to the hay bales. He throws me down and lands on top of me, smirking. “Violence does something to me,” he whispers, running his tongue up the side of my face. “It’s the blood.”

  I try to shove him, but he’s heavy and his weight alone is crushing me. He grips my wrists in one of his large hands and holds my arms above my head. I catch a glimpse of Blade fighting two men. He’s getting in a few punches, but he’s tired and injured. A panic takes hold of me and my breathing comes out in short, raspy puffs. I can’t die like this and I can’t let this man take what he wants from me. I close my eyes and take a deep breath as I feel him running his hand up my leg. Think, Tillie, think.

  “You’re pinning me down,” I whisper, and he stops his roaming hand. I try to force myself to relax. “You like violence, yet you pin me down. Are you afraid I’ll hurt you?” I smirk, and he narrows his eyes. “At least let me fight.”

  He grins, his psycho curiosity getting the best of him. “You’re right. I love nothing more than a helpless woman thinking she can win me. Let the real fight begin.” He releases my wrists and I slap him hard. He laughs and his eyes light with pleasure. He pushes his erection against me and I begin to flail around, hoping to buck him off me, but he places a hand around my throat and squeezes. It’s gentle to begin with, then he adds pressure a little at a time, watching me with curiosity. He seems so zoned in on what he’s doing, he’s oblivious to my fight. I rake my nails down his face, drawing blood. I watched a documentary once that said the police always check fingernails for DNA. If I die tonight, maybe they’ll catch this bastard.

  I raise my knee, but he catches it before I can make contact. His fingers dig hard into my thigh and I cry out. “I’m gonna fuck you in every hole until you bleed on my cock, then I’m gonna drink my finest malt and watch my men hold you down and tear you apart,” he grunts in my ear. “And I’m not gonna let you die, I’m keeping you around until I get bored and who knows when that will be.” I look towards the ring. Blade is on his knees, rasping and coughing blood onto the ground. I can’t spend the rest of my days being tortured by this nut job.

  I push a hand into the waistband of my jeans and grip the pen I stole earlier. Blade catches my eye and we share a moment that must last all of a second but it feels like minutes pass. In slow motion, he reaches for the nearest guy’s ankle, producing a knife from the guy’s sock, then slices the back of his ankle. The guy screams out and falls to the ground. Viktor glances back to see what all the fuss is, which gives me the opportunity to pull the pen out, making sure my grip is firm like Blade taught me. Blade throws the knife and it lands perfectly in the other guy’s eye. I tap Viktor on the face and he glances back at me. I smile, which confuses him, and I push the pen into his eye hard and fast while wrapping my legs around his waist, tight. The squelching sound makes me wince. Viktor reaches for the pen and pulls it out, rolling onto the floor with a thud. I roll with him, sitting astride him and taking the pen a second time before pressing it into his neck at the point where Blade showed me.

  When I pull it out, a fountain of blood squirts out, creating a pulsing river across the ground. The gravity of what just happened hits me and I scramble away from his writhing body. I see the blood on my hands and hold them in front of me like they’re diseased.

  Blade’s standing over a man, slicing his throat like he’s chopping up meat for dinner. I get onto all fours and vomit into a pile of hay.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  BLADE

  I stagger out of
the ring and fall to my knees behind Tillie. I pull her against my chest, cradling her sobbing form. “It’s okay, Sunshine,” I whisper, gently stroking her blood-matted hair. “You did good. It was them or us,” I say. She wipes her hands across her shirt, crying harder when the blood just smears. “Deep breaths,” I instruct, forcing her to look at me. “In and out,” I say, doing it with her. Once she calms slightly, I go to Viktor to check he’s dead. A pool of crimson surrounds him and his lifeless eyes stare back at me. I take his phone from his inside pocket and dial Riggs’ number. “It’s me,” I say when he answers.

  “Thank fuck,” he mutters. “We have no fucking idea where he took you,” he adds.

  I give him directions and then stuff the phone in my own pocket. Tillie watches silently as I drag the bodies to the pig pen. It’ll take them days to eat this lot, but who’s gonna come round snooping? I take the knives I find and stuff them in my waistband. I don’t know if there’ s any more men outside this barn.

  I find a bucket and some bleach in a large sink at the back of the barn. I need to get Tillie up and moving, so I take her to it. “Fill it and wash the blood,” I say. She nods, her face pale and empty of expression.

  While she cleans up, I take all the phones and identification from the men before adding their bodies into the pig pen. I hear bikes in the distance and sigh with relief. “We have to go out of the barn,” I say, and Tillie shakes her head, tears forming. “We have to. There’re no dogs, they would have barked by now. If there were men around, they’d be in here looking for their boss.”

  She takes my hand as we head for the exit, and I poke my head out. There’s no one about and I see the bikes and a van at the large gates. There’s a gatehouse and a man appears from it. There’s a flash from a silenced gun before he falls to the ground. “How the fuck can we get in now?” I hear Riggs hiss.

  “Shit, sorry, boss,” says Lake, and I smile. It's good to hear these idiots. I move carefully in the shadows towards the gatehouse.