Stone

by Addy Archer

One step and fear hits me full force, because I’m staring into the dark, hate-filled eyes of Keith. Panic fills my veins. How did he find me? Is Dani okay? Am I going to be okay? That last question is ridiculous, since the answer is clearly written on Keith’s face. His upcoming wrath is wafting off him, and I take a step back from the menacing force of it.

  Glancing around, I don’t see a way to escape. I’m also prevented from doing so if there even was a possibility, because his hand grips my upper arm and forcefully drags me with him down the hall toward the emergency exit. I know I have to fight this instant or I won’t be able to once he gets me out the door.

  I lash out and try to scream, but he slams his hand over my mouth at the same time he grips my upper body in a punishing hold. He’s too big for me to fight, which has been an issue all my life. First with my father and now with Keith.

  He carries me out the back door and throws me on the ground. My shoulder takes the brunt of the impact, but as always, I push the pain away and quickly scramble to my feet. Not quick enough to focus, though. Pain flares when Keith backhands me, almost knocking me off my feet again.

  “You think you can run off? Know your place, you fucking bitch,” Keith yells loud enough for me to faintly hear his words in this dark and quiet alley behind the bar. “Things are going to change, cunt. And I’ll start by teaching you a lesson. I’ll put you in your place so you know where you belong: in the fucking dirt, following my every demand. Don’t worry, I have experience in teaching disrespectful bitches. It’s the reason your father handed you over to me. I was stupid to think you would need a soft hand first because you would be the one to mother my children, but no more. You need to respect your man and see to his every need.”

  I take a step back, scanning my surroundings. Behind me is a brick wall. On the right is the door we came through, but I would have to get past Keith to get to it. He’s also blocking the way out of the alley. I’m trapped. No options. Nothing except my will to live.

  “Nowhere to run,” Keith taunts. “I’ll make sure you remember what happens when you defy me. I’m going to kick the bravery right out of you.” This time I read the words from his lips, and the next few he voices make my blood run cold. “The cunt inside who you call your friend will get the same treatment, because she put you up to this, didn’t she? I’ll teach her not to influence you ever again.”

  “Dani,” I gasp with the harsh realization of what I’ve pulled her into.

  I unwillingly endangered my friend. I can only hope she sticks with those bikers inside the bar so she’s safe.

  This time Keith doesn’t backhand me. Instead his fist flies out, punching me in the eye before I can brace myself.

  Another blow brings with it a rush of dizziness at the same time Keith kicks me in the gut. My knees buckle, and I crash to the ground. I quickly cover my head with my arms and curl into a ball in an effort to protect myself from the blows Keith is raining down on me.

  My arms are kicked away from protecting my face, and his boot instantly connects with my head. Blinding pain flashes while whimpers escape from my lips. By now, every inch of me is hurting, and I can’t block the pain or prevent Keith from hurting me.

  Everything suddenly stops, and I fight the pain long enough to be able to raise my head, needing to see what’s happening so I might be able to get away if Keith is distracted. To my horror, I see Dani rush toward me.

  A strangled cry rips from my throat when I see Keith pull his arm back, ready to attack my one and only friend. I force my body to comply and jump into action. I manage to block Keith and take the punch he wanted to throw at Dani.

  I notice a biker behind Dani, who’s now holding her back. A surge of thankfulness rushes through me; Jace will protect her. An arm slides around my throat, and I feel the cold steel of a knife right next to my ear.

  Keith is holding me to his body, and I feel his chest rumble. His mouth is near my ear, but I can’t understand his words due to the pounding headache and pain slicing through my body. It takes everything in me just to stay upright.

  My eyes land on the biker with the stud in his ear. Stone. His eyes lock on mine with a penetrating stare like he did back in the bar. There’s a gun aimed in my direction, and Stone is holding it with expertise. There isn’t a twitch of doubt on his face; he’s ready to use the gun without giving it one single thought or a hint of remorse.

  “Drop the knife while you’re still breathing,” he says, and I hate that I’m not able to hear his voice. Though his lips are hypnotizing.

  Keith must be screaming, because I hear his faint rumble of words as a soft whisper. “She belongs to me, so mind your business, asshole. You know who I am, and who she is. Are you ready to stir the kind of trouble that will risk a lawsuit between neighbors? Because I can think of a load of shit I can rain down on you. And it doesn’t matter that you guys have the sheriff on your payroll. I’ll go over your head. I know people who know people.”

  My heart skips a beat when Stone’s lips turn into a smirk. Every twitch and movement he makes is with determination and for a purpose. His features might be hard to read for others—they would only catch the hard mask he lets them see—but for me it’s a puzzle to solve—to see the real person behind the mask. It’s a welcome distraction from the pain my body is in, making it almost impossible for me to focus.

  I drink him in at the same time his lips move with the words he gives Keith. “I don’t give a flying fuck who you are. But you seem to know who I am, so you should know I don’t respond well to threats.”

  Keith has his arm around my neck to hold me in place. His wrist is bent to keep the knife pointing at himself while it’s pressing into the side of my neck, right underneath my ear. He’s ready to slice my throat. His arm is twitching, and I swallow hard at the thought of him sliding the knife to the left in one clear swoop, killing me before anyone can so much as take one step forward.

  Keith’s chest rumbles behind me, and I have to strain my ears to catch the soft murmur of words. “That’s your first mistake, asshole. You should care. If not for me, then for the little bitch I’m holding.”

  The only thing keeping me upright—besides Keith’s arm locking me in place—is the way the biker in front of me is holding my gaze. Even if he’s baring his teeth at Keith, his eyes hold kindness for me. I might be losing it, but those dark brown eyes are an open window for me to jump in and dream away.

  Stone’s lips move, and I catch the words, though I see by the way the fine lines on his face betray him that the first part is a lie, though the second part not so much. “I couldn’t care less about the chick you’re holding. You, on the other hand, are fucking annoying and wasting my time.”

  I see the change in the rough biker’s features and feel Keith becoming aware his time is up behind me when he starts to press the knife tighter against me as his body lightly starts to shake. It’s a whole “now or never” vibe, giving me the strength I need to prevent Keith from slicing my neck.

  I tightly grip Keith’s wrist and manage to pull it with a rough yank over my shoulder, making sure to shove it into Keith’s body behind me. None of it can prevent the knife from sliding against my neck in the process, but soon both the steel and Keith’s body are gone as they crash to the ground.

  I start to wobble on my feet from the beating I took, but I brace myself and turn to look behind me. Keith is on the ground, a tiny hole between his eyes. Warmth starts to spread from my neck and shoulder. I glance down to see my sleeve turning red.

  Dani is standing in front of me, her hands on my neck, pressing down. I’m starting to get dizzy, and the pain throughout my body is getting too much for me to handle. Dani’s lips move, but the way her head is angled away from me makes it impossible to read her lips, and I don’t catch what she’s saying.

  Then my chin is grabbed, and I stare into the biker’s deep brown eyes.

  I can’t help but mumble, “You’re a bad liar.”

  He looks stunned for a moment, and his lips t
ell me, “How’s that?”

  “You,” I croak, struggling for my next breath while my eyes start to feel heavy and darkness spreads. “You did… care,” I whisper, then give in to the pull into oblivion where pain is no longer something to worry about.

  C H A P T E R T W O

  – S T O N E –

  “Stay with me. Come on, darlin’. Fuck.” I can hear the panic in my voice. It’s something I’m unfamiliar with.

  I never panic. Okay, that’s a lie, I do, but I sure as fuck never show it or let it flow through my voice for others to hear. And I only panic if it concerns one of my sisters when shit is out of my hands to control any aspect. I failed them in the past, and from that day forward, I swore never to let it happen again.

  Maybe that’s why I’m drawn to Rylee, since I recently found out there hasn’t been anyone who would stand up for her. Well, no one except her friend Daniela. With her father suppressing her and keeping her on a tight leash, and then adding that Keith fucker to the pile, who’s also a creepy scumbag, this girl doesn’t stand a chance in her fucked-up life.

  “Stop rambling,” Daniela snaps from beside me while she has her hand on her friend’s neck in an effort to stop the bleeding. “Jace, can you open my bag? I have a suturing kit in there. I also need for you to put on gloves and get things set for me.”

  My VP, Jace, jumps into action, and I can’t help but brush some of this woman’s white hair—that’s now tainted with wet crimson—out of her face. I take my phone from my pocket and text Dreamer.

  The dead body needs to disappear, and the woman who’s fighting for her life in front of us needs to be somewhere safe if she manages to survive. It’ll take a few minutes before Dreamer gets here with the van. We need to get a handle on this shit before others notice we’re out here.

  “Damn, I don’t know if I should be impressed or worried,” Jace says in awe. “Your purse is like a bugout bag. It gives you a lot of options in times of need.”

  Jace quickly takes out the stuff Daniela requested, and she gives him instructions to place his gloved hands over the gaping cut on Rylee’s neck. Daniela disinfects her hands, puts on gloves, and gets to work.

  Thank fuck she’s a doctor. We met her months ago in the hospital when Jace had a knife wound and needed stitches. She was the one who patched him up. We haven’t run into her face-to-face until now, but I guess fate has a way to let us cross paths when needed.

  We did, however, recently found out Daniela lived in our town and was friends with Rylee, since I ordered Jace to stake out Ralph Warringtens’s place. He’s Rylee’s father and owns the junkyard that’s located behind our property. Jace told me he saw Daniela pick up Rylee a few days ago, but I ordered him not to interfere. It’s complicated, but at the time, I felt like it was the right decision.

  Ralph is an angry drunk. A sonofabitch who handles everything with a mean streak. Though, I didn’t think his daughter was in danger from some fuck working for her father. I even talked to Ralph this afternoon to discuss a deal concerning the junkyard. If I’d only fucking known the beauty in front of me was the daughter in question.

  I knew he had a daughter, don’t get me wrong, I just never so much as saw a picture of her. Ralph keeps her locked away on his property. We only found out because Jace was stalking the place, and we did a thorough background check where nothing much was revealed about the daughter. Hence me saying that fucker is suppressing her, since she only leaves with Daniela and is on a curfew.

  Ralph’s not only a drunk, but the fucker is getting older, and with someone new popping up in town buying up property, we knew he was one who’d want to sell or set up something to retire. Staking out the place—along with the rest of the information we obtained—gave me what I needed to head over and offer him a deal. Rylee must’ve been locked up in the office, since I didn’t see her.

  But when I laid eyes on her back in the bar for the first time, my whole body grew tight. It was as if invisible strings were pulling on me to bind her to me. Then I saw Daniela sitting behind her, and it clicked in my head who she was.

  I try again in an effort to wake her up, “Come on, darlin’, give me your eyes.”

  “She can’t hear you,” Daniela snaps at me.

  “Woman,” I growl, “I know you’re trying to save her life, but I swear I will make your old man punish you if you snap at me again, understood? Put those hands to work instead of focusing on me.”

  Daniela flawlessly treats the injury on Rylee’s neck while she ignores my demand and keeps talking to me. “I’ve told you twice already, but you don’t seem to understand, so I’m going to repeat myself yet again and give you the truth to explain along with it.” She sighs. “Dammit, she’s going to hate me for telling you.”

  My gaze finally slides away from Rylee, the woman who captured my attention when our gazes collided back at the bar. And that’s something that never happens. No woman has the ability to hold my interest. Normally when I’m in the mood to fuck, I grab one of the hang-arounds to get some relief, but I’ve never had my dick light up by just the sight of a woman. Until now.

  Back in the bar, my anger skyrocketed when Daniela told Jace why she kept looking in the direction of the bathroom to check if Rylee was coming back. When it took too long, we all went to check, and when she wasn’t in the bathroom, we headed out back.

  Fuck. The sight of a man kicking the shit out of a woman who’s already on the ground is something I will always end, no matter what, where, or who. I won’t ever let anything like that happen when I can do something about it.

  But the fact that it was this woman? Fucking hell, the bullet I gave the asshole between his eyes was too damn sweet, in my opinion. I should have let him live so I could torture him for hours before finally ending his life.

  “She won’t hate you, because I won’t say a word,” I vow and keep my eyes on Rylee’s face.

  Her skin was pale back in the bar, enhancing her delicate features, but now she looks like a fucking angel slaughtered by a demon.

  Dammit, that’s twisted. I shake my head to get rid of the thought and focus on Daniela’s voice.

  “When she was a kid, she had an ear infection that wasn’t treated. I’m guessing with the whole family situation, she had either a high tolerance for pain or took it like a champ and continued to keep every emotion locked on the inside. Anyway, her hearing is bad in both ears. Her asshole father never gave her hearing aids. I did a few months ago when she finally let me.” I scoff, and she looks right at me. “Seriously, this woman isn’t used to kindness and refused to accept such a big gesture.”

  Daniela closes her eyes for a moment to take a deep breath before she cuts the suture thread on the final stitch. “You should have seen the smile on her face and those happy tears rolling down her cheeks when she could hear like a normal person,” she croaks.

  I place my hand on Daniela’s shoulder and give her a little squeeze. “Thanks for sharing. I promise she won’t find out you told me.”

  I suspected some of the neglect and the suppression when we were checking everything out, but not to this extent. Anger swirls up inside me again at the way this woman’s father treated her. I also grew up with one who didn’t think his own blood was worth shit, so I know very well what it means to have a fucked-up father ruining your life.

  Though the MC life showed me both sides. My father was my president and tainted the MC, which became rotten to the core until I turned shit around with help from my sister’s old man.

  My sister’s old man is the vice president of Rebel Rage MC, allowing me the connection and the manpower I needed to wipe out my father and those who followed his insane and demolishing mindset. We ended it and moved from Nevada to California, where I took the gavel over from my grandfather and became president of the founding chapter of Trigger Pull MC.

  Both my sisters stayed behind in Nevada. They’re both old ladies in the other MC, but they’re also under the protection of Trigger Pull MC, being my blood. It gives
me peace of mind to know they’re protected and treasured, our father no longer a threat to either of them.

  I let my fingers slide over Rylee’s hand, and my eyes catch a hint of a bruise on her wrist peeking out from under her sleeve. I gently push the fabric up, and my stomach rolls from the sight of a mixture of fresh and old bruises.

  A van stops at the end of the alley, making my heart jump, but it quickly settles when I see Dreamer—our enforcer—step out and head straight for us. His head tilts to the side, taking in the scene in front of him.

  “I take a pass one fucking time to go out with you assholes to grab a drink and this is what I miss out on? Damn, Pres. Make me join you guys next time, will ya?” Dreamer chuckles and steps closer to the dead body. He eyes it for a moment and then tells Bellick, “Go get the tarp from the back of the van. Let’s get to work, people.”

  Daniela is finished bandaging Rylee, but the woman still hasn’t regained consciousness. I scoop her up in my arms and tell Jace, “Get Bellick’s keys. I’m going to need his truck to get Rylee to the clubhouse. Tell him to help Dreamer and have him pick up my bike with the flat back later when he’s done.”

  Jace nods and jogs to Bellick, who’s strolling back into the alley holding tarp underneath his arm. Daniela is staring at Rylee, concern radiating from her eyes.

  “From the look of those bruises she’s hiding and the stuff you told us, it’s clear she’s a tough one, Daniela. She’ll pull through. You stitching her up right here saved her life. Let her do the rest. Come on,” I tell her, then head for Bellick’s truck.

  It takes about twenty minutes for us to get back to the clubhouse, but then I’m finally able to put the woman into my bed. Daniela starts to check her over again and mumbles something about her pupils and vitals being okay. She seems a bit worried that she can’t check for internal injuries, but she said everything seems fine with her blood pressure and shit.

  I don’t know all the terms she uses when she’s talking to herself, but from what I saw when we rushed out of the bar, this chick endured a beating that’ll take her at least a few weeks to recover from. She might even be pissing blood from the blows to her kidney.