He was just lucky she loved him or she might have smothered him with a pillow years ago.
She glanced around, trying not to display any unease. She knew she couldn’t show weakness. People like this only respected strength. She was under no illusions that these people were good, upstanding citizens.
She looked back up at surfer-biker with the truly glorious tattoos. Hmm, she wondered if she could sneak a tattoo somewhere on her body that her brothers wouldn’t see.
“You’re looking for someone here?” he asked incredulously. “There’s no one here for you, little girl, so best you run back to Daddy.”
“My father is dead.” She said the words with absolutely no inflection in her voice. No feeling.
Show. No. Weakness.
“Where’d you get the tattoos?” she asked him.
The guy blinked, obviously taken by surprise. Good.
He folded his arms across his chest, his muscles bunching. A face like a movie star and a body like a professional athlete, she bet he had women panting after him.
She felt nothing.
Maybe because your mind is filled with a scowling ex-SEAL who seems to think he gets to boss you around. Well, he used to. Now he was barely talking to her. She never thought she’d miss their arguments quite so much.
“You’re not here to talk about my tattoos.”
“No, I’m not. Pretty sure I already said why I was here. Have you always had short-term memory issues? Does it run in your family? I’m guessing you biker types aren’t big on going to the doctor. Or am I stereotyping? ‘Cause you know, as you get older lots of problems are going to come up. There’s no shame in asking for help when you need it.”
Okay, shut up now, Eden.
“Little girl—” he snarled, but was cut off as a woman strode up to him. Her long, blue-black hair caressed her waist. This woman was pure sex and sin. She was dressed in tight black jeans that fit like a second skin. Her white top was a size too small and you could see her red bra underneath.
She leaned against the biker-surfer dude and he wrapped his arm around her.
“You need to turn around and leave,” she told Eden in a voice that wasn’t unkind. “This isn’t the place for you.”
“Gladly,” Eden told her, glancing around. Everyone was still staring at her. She sighed. Fucking wonderful. Fucking Keira.
“Whoever you’re looking for, they’re not here,” the woman told her.
“Seems that way. Then again, she could be in the restroom.”
What? For the last few hours while you’ve called and messaged her? Unlikely. Unless she’d passed out.
“Actually, I better go check. Where are the women’s toilets?” she asked the other woman.
The dark-haired woman looked up at her tattooed companion then over at Eden with disbelief. “Are you for real? This isn’t a bar you just wander into without protection.”
“Really? Is that a threat?” Eden asked with a bravado she certainly didn’t feel. Funny, she’d always thought she wouldn’t be scared of death. And yet, right now, all she wanted to do was get the hell out of here and go home. Where it was safe.
Where Zeke was.
Fuck. He had totally gotten to her.
“No, it’s not a threat,” the woman told her. “It’s the rules.”
“All I want to do is look for my friend. She works here.”
The guy looked around him. “You see your friend?”
She clenched her jaw tight. “No. Obviously not.”
“Then she don’t work here.” He made a gesture and two other men stepped out of the crowd. Fuck. She thought bikers were meant to be old and hairy. Not these guys. They were young and hot.
“Escort her out, make sure she leaves,” surfer-biker dude ordered. He glared down at her. “Don’t come back. Next time, I won’t be so nice.”
Well, fuck.
One of the assholes took hold of the handles of her chair. She glared up at the surfer-biker asshole. She expected him to look smug or angry, instead he seemed like he’d already dismissed her. In fact, he turned away, clearly expecting his orders to be obeyed.
Just like some freaking dictator. She wondered if he was the President of the Iron Shadows.
“Could you please just check the restroom? And then I’ll go.”
“Fucking hell,” the tattooed guy muttered. “Fucking fine. Jewel, go take a look in the women's restrooms, will ya?”
The other woman scowled. “All right.”
“Thank you. She’s about five-foot eight, red hair, pale skin. Her name is Keira Blackwood.”
Suddenly, it felt as though someone had sucked all the air from the room. The curious and mocking looks aimed her way turned more deadly. Anger filled Jewel’s face.
Suddenly, surfer-biker dude leaned over her, his face a savage mask, all hint of boredom gone.
“What the fuck did you just say?”
5
He had a murder to plan.
More than one, truth be told. Only if he killed her fucking brother, she might get pissed at him. So, he’d have to show restraint. Maybe he’d just torture him for a while, see how he fucking liked it. Because that’s what the asshole was doing to Zeke. Torturing him slowly.
How could he give Eden permission to leave the ranch? Clint was supposed to be in charge and he just let her go around doing whatever the fuck she liked. Didn’t he know how precious she was? How reckless? The woman had no regard for her safety whatsoever. She lived every day like it was going to be her last.
It. Had. To. Stop.
He didn’t care what he had to do. Who he had to go through. Eden Jensen would be his and she would damn well learn to value her own life. If he achieved nothing else in his life from here on out, he would be happy if he could just make her see her own worth.
If he could get her to stop taking chances with a life that belonged to him.
Okay, best you try to tame the possessive beast now.
Normally, he managed to control that darker side of his personality better. The part of him that screamed. Own. Possess. Protect.
No one on Sanctuary Ranch had truly seen that part of him. They’d seen bits of it. But not the whole picture. And not aimed towards one of their own. He knew if they did, he would lose all chance at making Eden his.
Despite the distance she attempted to put between herself and everyone else, she was the princess of Sanctuary Ranch. Every goddamn person that lived there would lay down their life for her, and she didn’t have a fucking clue.
He knew that, because if she did, she’d be certain to work out what made them all loyal to her in a way that dictators of small world countries could only dream of, and she’d destroy it.
She didn’t want anyone’s devotion. probably thought she was tolerated by everyone because of her brothers.
Not true.
If she knew how much everyone loved her, she’d stop doing all those small acts of kindness that she viewed as nothing and everyone else saw as everything. She’d pull back, retreat, she’d keep that fiercely loyal side of herself tightly in check.
She’d give nothing.
And he wanted everything.
They all knew she was uncomfortable with too much closeness and kept their devotion under wraps. But it was there.
It was why they let her get away with far too much. She had them all wrapped around her little finger, whether she knew it or not.
And she got away with murder.
No more.
Her demons that have dug their claws in deep, but those demons didn’t stand a chance against him. All he needed was for her to let him in. Let him close. He thought maybe he’d gotten there the night of the wedding. But he’d pushed too hard too fast.
Stupid fucker.
He knew better. He’d worked hard to control himself. To learn patience. Being in the Navy had helped. Training as a Dom helped even more.
Kent had introduced him to BDSM, and he’d discovered a way to calm his world. To tame the bea
st inside him.
Eden was his reward for his hard work.
He wanted her tied so close to him, she couldn’t live without him. And while he was tying her to him, he’d be tethered to her too. Everything he would demand from her he would give in return.
He’d give her his protection. He’d guard her body. Her soul.
Nothing would hurt her.
Nothing would get the chance since he’d no doubt wrap her up in layers of protection that even God himself couldn’t penetrate.
Hmm, that might be a bit too much. At least to begin with.
All those roiling dark emotions he’d learned to control were now focused in on her. Protect Eden. Possess Eden.
Be her daddy.
That’s what he was going to do.
Own her. Fuck her. Dominate her.
Love her.
She was running scared from him at the moment. She’d showed her soft underbelly. But she should have realized that he wasn’t a predator who would rip into her. He was the tarnished knight who was going to protect her.
He’d stayed away. He’d given her time. Understanding. All things he basically sucked at. And he’d hated every moment. But tonight, the kid gloves were coming off. He was through tip-toeing around her.
The real Zeke was shining through. He was coming for her. Hard.
He stormed into the security room. A bank of monitors lay along one wall. Different views of the ranch were displayed. There were several men in the room, but there was just one man he was after.
The one who’d let her leave without telling him.
“Corbin! You’re a fucking dead man.”
Corbin turned; his hands raised placatingly although Zeke could see the devilment dancing in his gaze. Oh, he thought this was a game, did he?
“Clint said she could go.”
“And I fucking told you that the minute she tried to leave the ranch that you were to contact me.”
Instead, the tracker he’d placed on her car had alerted him that she was on the move. So technically he didn’t need Corbin to let him know when she made a move. Not only did he have a tracker on her car, he could also track her phone and he’d placed one in each of her handbags. That had taken him a while.
The woman sure loved her handbags.
And she always had one on her. So yeah, his bases were covered. But that didn’t mean Corbin didn’t need to pay for not doing exactly as he’d ordered him to. And once he’d retrieved her, he was going to meet Corbin in the boxing ring for a bit of punishment.
He reached into the cupboard that held the keys for JSI’s vehicles. His truck was at the mechanics. He took one of the unmarked ones.
“Yeah, and Clint is her guardian, not you.” Corbin stood and the room grew silent.
Zeke moved closer, he was a few inches shorter than the other man, but far wider. He could take him.
“Maybe not now. But she will be. Soon.”
Corbin snorted.
He gave Corbin one last cold look and turned away, striding out. He didn’t have time for this. Lord knew what sort of mischief Eden would get up to without him watching over her.
But he’d see. Eden would be his. And then he could be damned sure that he would know exactly where she was every minute of every day.
Then maybe he’d actually get some sleep at night.
6
She looked around the room they’d placed her in. She couldn’t believe it. She’d been locked up by a bunch of psycho bikers. What the fuck was their problem? All she’d wanted was to check that Keira wasn’t hiding in the bathroom and then she would have left. Keira. . .God, Keira.
Where was she? She couldn’t help but oscillate between anger at the other woman and fear for her wellbeing.
“I have better things to do that sit here!” she yelled out. She wasn’t sure how long she’d been in here or if anyone was close enough to hear her. What the fuck were they planning on doing with her?
“You have no idea who you’re fucking messing with!”
Yeah, great threat, Eden. They’re gonna be real scared of the spoiled little princess in the wheelchair.
Fuck. She knew she could press the alarm on her necklace and be put through to 911, but she’d save that as a last resort. If they discovered she’d called the cops, they could easily kill her before she was rescued. Plus, if Clint found out about this, he’d lock her in her room until she was at least eighty.
“If it’s money you want, you’re shit out of luck.”
Although she didn’t see how it could be that. They had no idea who she was. Or did they? Had something given her away?
Maybe they’d gotten a look at her handbag. It was worth more than this whole bar. They’d been quick to snatch it off her. Were the fuckers seriously holding her hostage over a handbag?
Urgh. God, if they figured out who she was and decided to extort Clint for money. . .yep, she was definitely going to be locked in her room until she was an old maid.
“What is it you want, assholes?” she bit out in frustration.
To her shock the door actually opened and a new guy stepped in. He stood in the doorway. A veritable wall of muscle. Clean cut, with dark hair and a tan, he wore a blue shirt, jeans and a leather jacket. Surprisingly, she couldn’t see any ink on him. Then again, the only skin exposed was his face, neck and forearms.
Still, he wasn’t the type of guy she typically associated with belonging to an MC.
Right, and how much do you actually know about motorcycle clubs, Eden?
He studied her for a moment then gave a nod as though he was having some conversation in his head.
“Boss wants to see you.”
“Well, that’s just awesome. Only thing is, I’m kind of busy. If I don’t get home shortly then my brothers are going to come looking for me. Did I mention they know I’m here?”
He just stared at her calmly, not buying a word of her bluff.
Be calm, Eden. Maybe you can still get out of here alive and without Clint finding out.
Or Zeke.
Nope. Not going to think about him. She needed her wits about her to get out of this.
“So, ah, I’ll just be leaving. Okay?” Drat. That didn’t come off sounding even the slightest bit authoritative.
One dark eyebrow rose. Oh shit, this guy was freaking scary. If she’d thought surfer-biker guy was dangerous then she didn’t even have words to describe this guy. There was no emotion on his face.
None.
Just a raised eyebrow and a coldness that ran deep.
“Boss wants to see you,” he repeated.
“Yeah, I heard you the first time.” Calm, Eden. “Who is the boss exactly?”
“You came here without knowing who you were up against?”
She almost squirmed at those words. They were condescending, incredulous, and she felt like a naïve child.
“Up against? I didn’t know we were at war.” She forced herself to smile at him.
No reaction.
Well, shit. She’d expected some sort of response.
“Guess that depends on your answers to the boss’s questions.”
His voice was low, each word almost dragged out of him as though he didn’t like expending the energy to talk to her.
“Look, I’m not here for any trouble. I’m here because a friend left me a message, and she sounded scared. I thought she worked here, but maybe I was wrong. She’s obviously not here so I’ll go.”
His other eyebrow joined the first one.
Damn, she wished she could read eyebrow. It was a language she had never mastered.
“We know that, girl. We heard the message she left.”
“How the hell did you do that? My phone is password protected.”
The biker sighed. A deep, long sigh that was far more dramatic than she thought necessary. “Really? You think some little password can keep people out of your phone? Jesus, girl, who’s supposed to be minding you?”
“Nobody minds me. I’m a grown woman.�
�� A grown woman whose brother was likely to ground her. Only she didn’t tell him that. She didn’t want to detract from the brave, confident persona she was trying to project. Even though she was totally pissing herself on the inside.
“You’re a spoiled, impulsive little girl. And you’re also a liar since there’s no way your brothers know you’re here.”
Don’t show him any emotion. Don’t show fear.
Fuck, but that fear ran deep. She might not care much for her own safety, but no one threatened the people she loved.
“What do you know of my brothers?” Was he just mentioning them because she’d said something about them, which had been an idiot move, or did he actually know who they were?
“Girl, I can’t believe I’m going to have to point this out. We have your handbag. We have your phone. We know who you are. Who your family is. Given more time we can probably discover what you fucking ate for breakfast.”
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
“Leave my brothers out of this.”
He snorted. “Come on. Boss is waiting. He’s not a patient man.”
He stepped back and held open the door, it took her a moment to realize he was waiting for her to wheel herself out.
“What? Not going to just force me to go where you want,” she managed to snark even though her heart was still racing.
How could she have been so fucking stupid? Why had she come here? And why had she brought her handbag? She should have left all of her identification in the car. Then nothing could have been traced back to her brothers.
But then, she hadn’t been expecting things to go to shit.
Come on, Eden. This is your life, of course it’s going to go to shit.
“You don’t move then I will move you,” he stated. “But it’s not my style to put my hands on a woman without her permission.”
“A biker with morals,” she scoffed.
He shrugged. “We all have some sort of moral code, right? Just some of our morals aren’t what society accepts.”
“All you have to do is grab my chair, you wouldn’t have to touch me,” she pointed out. She didn’t know why the hell she was arguing. Maybe it was to give herself a chance to slow her racing heartbeat.
Daring Daddy (Montana Daddies Book 5) Page 6