The Soldiers of Wrath MC: Complete Series

by Jenika Snow

  Pushing that desire to the side, he got to his feet.

  “Striker, please,” she said.

  Gritting his teeth, he leaned on the sink, staring at his reflection. “I’m part of the Soldiers of Wrath.”

  “So?”

  “So, we don’t leave a man alive, and we don’t let anyone who fucks with us live to tell the tale.”

  “Are you saying—?”

  He didn’t give her chance to finish.

  “They’re dead, and if they’re not dead, they will be.”

  She took a deep breath and stood. One of her hands went to her neck, and she took several deep breaths. He watched her tits rise and fall.

  “That’s what you wanted to hear, right?”

  “You killed them?”

  “With my bare hands. It wasn’t exactly hard. They were weak assholes to begin with. If you think they would have spared you a moment’s pain, you’re wrong. They were going to rape you, Elena. Take turns using your body and leave you for dead. They were scum.”

  She held her hand up, and he grasped her wrist. He wouldn’t be silenced.

  “No, you asked the question, and I’m answering it. I’m just as big a monster as they were. You want to report me to the police then I suggest you do so, but if any of my MC brothers find out you did, I can’t protect you. No one speaks out against the MC.”

  “I’m not going to report you.” Tears fell down her cheeks. “I was going to thank you.”

  “What?”

  “They were monsters, and it probably makes me an awful person, but knowing they’re off the street makes me feel so much better. How do you think that makes me feel? I’d rather they be dead than risk them getting away with what they’ve done and doing it again.”

  He felt like utter shit for snapping at her. Releasing her hand, he stepped away, running fingers through his hair.

  “I’m not going to tell anyone what happened. Your secret is safe with me.”

  “I’ll take you home tomorrow morning. Don’t talk to anyone about what happened here.” He left the bathroom, needing a drink. Striker didn’t know what was wrong with him.

  Entering his kitchen, he grabbed a cold beer and pulled the lid off before taking a long drink. No woman had ever gotten under his skin. Fuck, he’d known Elena a matter of hours, and he’d already killed for her. What the fuck did it mean?

  It means nothing.

  She cleared her throat, and he looked up to find her in the kitchen. Lust instantly rushed through his body.

  “I wanted to apologize for what I did and said. I’m sorry.”

  “What are you sorry for exactly?” he asked.

  “For ruining your night, making you kill those men.” She shrugged, and he noticed she was fidgeting with her fingers and hands. He didn’t want her to be afraid of him.

  “You didn’t ruin my night. You think you’re the first woman to be attacked?” He shook his head. “Fuck me, I wish that was the truth, baby. This is not even the worst shit that I’ve ever seen in my life. Think about that fucking mess.” He was a monster, and if the woman before him knew that he liked to hurt, to cut, to bleed, she would run away from him. There were times he knew he was just as big a monster as the men he’d just recently killed.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Stop saying you’re fucking sorry. You don’t need to be sorry. You’re not the problem. I just said that.” He stopped, turning away from her, and taking some deep breaths. “I’m sorry for shouting at you, for making you afraid.”

  “You killed because of me.”

  “They’re not the first men I’ve killed.” And you’re not the first woman I’ve warned to keep quiet because the club would make you silent.

  He was going to need to talk to Demon, but right now, he didn’t want the hassle of having to admit that he’d fucked up. He’d left bodies in the street, and the MC didn’t do that. Demon didn’t like it when he had to deal with the law.

  “Fuck, I’ve got to go and clean up my mess,” he said.

  “What?”

  “Those men, they’re going to be found, and I’ve wasted enough time as it is already. I’m going to head out; I’ll lock the door behind me. Don’t answer for anyone. You stay quiet.” Finishing off the beer, he grabbed his jacket and headed back out, making sure that he locked his apartment door. Once outside, he put a call through to some of his brothers, asking them to meet him with the cleaning crew. Several of the prospects would be put to work to help clean up the mess he’d made. It was going to be a long fucking night.

  What had just happened? Elena stared at the closed door, confusion filling her. One moment, she’d been talking with Striker in the bathroom, and the next, he was gone. She was going to get whiplash with this man. He was a good man, although he showed signs of being a monster far more terrifying than anything she’d ever witnessed before in her life. If he wasn’t good, why did he stop to help her? A true monster would have left, or joined in. He did neither of those things.

  Licking her dry lips, she took a seat on his couch and wondered what the hell was going on.

  He saved you.

  Elena wasn’t used to being saved. She was used to saving herself and trying to survive. Pushing the thoughts of her struggles aside, she focused on what was right in front of her. She was in a biker’s apartment, alone and waiting for him to get home.

  A biker had saved her, and all she was thinking about right now was how shitty her life was, and how her parents had forced her to flee. Men like Striker were supposed to be avoided, like the devil, at least that’s what her parents tried to engrain in her. Yet, even with Striker yelling, she’d not been afraid of him. Much to her shame, he’d aroused her.

  How could she feel arousal after what happened? How could she feel arousal for a man she didn’t know? A man who had probably killed two people, and if they weren’t dead, he was going to finish them off. Even as she thought about it, she couldn’t help not caring about them. Those men had planned to do unspeakable things to her. Why should she feel remorse for their deaths?

  Chapter 6

  She knew she was sleeping, because she’d had the same dream for the last year, had the same nightmare since she’d actually left everything behind.

  Elena couldn’t cry, couldn’t let anyone, least of all her parents, know the pain she was really in. She’d been brought up to know her role in her family, had known that to her parents, to her community, she’d been nothing but a pawn to help bring families together.

  She was nothing but piece of property that was to be married off to her disgusting uncle in hopes that being with him would elevate her mother and father within the church. They didn’t love her, didn’t care that she yearned for her freedom, yearned to have her own life, and not be confined to specific areas within her home. Elena had desires, ones she’d never shared with anyone, because doing so would mean she was admitting her sins, admitting that she was no better than the outside world.

  “The marriage to your uncle will raise our family in the community,” her father said in his harsh, loveless voice.

  Elena twisted her hands together, always feeling so small when in front of him. He looked at her with disinterest. Well, that wasn’t true. He looked at her like she was nothing to him except a way to better his life.

  “You understand that when you’re married, you will obey Francis in all things. You will be his wife, and you will do what he says when he says it.”

  She swallowed but nodded, not about to voice her opinion. The truth was she had no intention of marrying anyone, least of all her disgusting uncle. She didn’t know what to call her community, but she supposed a cult was a pretty accurate word. That was probably the closest description she could think of. The women were nothing but subservient. They were there solely for the men. They cooked, cleaned, had the children, and were sexually obedient in every sense. And as much as Elena loathed the thought of that life, the idea of being submissive to a man, of bending to his will willingly, wasn’t abhor
rent to her.

  She had desires, dark needs that she’d never uttered to a living soul. They were considered sins, an evil inside of her. Although she was expected to be sexually obedient in every sense of the word, she wasn’t meant to enjoy it. Enjoying it, deriving pleasure from it, meant she had a defect.

  It made no sense, but it’s what her life was made of.

  Admitting she’d fantasized about a man controlling her in a sexual sense, giving her the type of pleasure she wanted, that he thought she needed, was a secret she held deep down. But as she stared at her father, she knew she couldn’t go through with it. She’d never tell him that, but she’d find a way to escape, find a way to leave. She couldn’t live a life like this anymore.

  “Now, go to your mother. She’ll explain all of the duties you’ll be required to do when you’re married.”

  Striker wiped off some of the blood from his hands on the rag he held and watched as a couple of the prospects carried the body of the lifeless motherfucker to the back of the van. There was a loud lump as they tossed the body in the back.

  “Get the bleach,” Nerd said.

  The prospects gabbed the two jugs of bleach, and although the likelihood that anyone would come back here, see the stains of carnage, and call the cops, they didn’t want to take any chances. Bleach might not actually wash away the evidence of what Striker had done, but it would mask it enough that the club, and Striker, wouldn’t feel the spotlight.

  “Where are we taking the bodies?” Ash was a prospect that was coming up on his year and would most likely be patched. Blood coated his hands and shirt, but the big motherfucker didn’t look fazed.

  “Take Route 56 for about five miles. The dirt road that leads up through the woods will get you far enough away from town and anyone stupid enough to snoop. You can bury them further up there without notice.”

  Ash nodded and grabbed the rag Striker handed him. Now that this was cleaned up, all Striker could think about, the only thing that consumed his mind, clouding his thoughts, was images of Elena. He still smelled her on him, a sweet fragrance that wasn’t artificial.

  Something inside of him wanted her, had wanted her from the moment he saw her. And then he’d talked to her, had her at his home, and something else shifted in him. He couldn’t describe it, couldn’t even make sense of it. Hell, Striker didn’t want to.

  “I’ve got to go. You guys have this under control?” He asked Ash, and then looked at Nerd and the other two prospects.

  “We’re good.”

  Striker nodded and headed to his SUV. His bike was already gone, but he didn’t want to be on that beast right now anyway. He headed back to his place, his thoughts focused on one woman.

  When he finally pulled up to his place and cut the engine, he knew he’d need to figure out what in the fuck was going on. He didn’t need an old lady, didn’t want a woman in his life. He was a sadist, a Dom, and the type of relationship he wanted was one that had a woman submitting to him. He wanted her willing, begging for the pain he could give her because it would lead to her pleasure. Elena didn’t seem like the type of woman that was into what he liked, and he’d never force a woman into anything. But he couldn’t lie and say thinking about her, hell, just thinking about her, had him feeling things he’d never thought possible.

  The truth was he never thought he’d be able to have anything other than the sexual relationships he had with his submissives. Those were for a few hours at a time, because any more and he became detached. But there was something special about Elena, something dark inside of her that he’d noticed right away.

  He got out of the SUV and headed inside. Once the front door was shut behind him, he heard her cries right away. The lights were off, and he saw her on the couch, twisting on the cushions and whimpering. Turning the light on, he walked over to her quickly and crouched beside her

  “Elena?” He said her name softly, but when she kept whimpering, he reached for her shoulder and shook it lightly. “Wake up,” he said louder.

  She opened her eyes, gasping, and sat up. Her hair was a wild mess around her head, and her eyes were wide, filled with fear.

  “What the fuck?” God, Striker was worried about her, and he didn’t get worried about anyone, least of all a woman. “Are you okay?”

  She closed her eyes and shook her head. “I was having a nightmare.” She opened her eyes. “I was having a nightmare about the life I ran away from.”

  Chapter 7

  Kneeling by the couch, Striker frowned. “What did you run away from?”

  “My family, everything. I didn’t want to do something that my parents demanded, and I ran. I’ve been running ever since.”

  She’d sat up, but he stayed on the floor, staring at her. Shit, what was he supposed to do? His heart was racing. The very thought of her being in distress had affected him deeply. Running fingers through his hair, he glanced back at her.

  “We’ve all got a past, sweetheart. Don’t let it define who you are.”

  “You’re not going to ask me about it?”

  “Why would I do that?” he asked. “It’s your story to tell, not mine.”

  Elena bit her lip, and he couldn’t resist reaching out and stopping her.

  “Don’t bite your lip.” He hadn’t meant to sound so demanding, but he was a very dominant man.

  “My family are religious,” she said.

  He winced. “Religion and me, we don’t mix.”

  She laughed softly. “They wanted me to marry my uncle, head of our church. My mother was training me to be a good wife, a perfect woman for him.” She cringed. Striker stood and moved toward her. He took the seat beside her.

  “An actual uncle?”

  “Yeah. He is older than me by a lot, obviously, and they said it would be good for me to have an older husband who would know how to control me.”

  His anger spiked once again. There was nothing he hated more than an overbeating family, selling off their daughters to the highest bidder. Arranged marriages weren’t common practice anymore, and might even be illegal in some parts, but it didn’t stop families from actually doing it. He rubbed her back, trying to offer her comfort.

  “Is that why you’re working in a diner?”

  “Yes. I had to get away. I don’t have anything. I’m just trying to get by with what little I have and earn.” She sniffled, and he closed his eyes, hating that she’d had to go through this. Women were not his area of expertise. Pain, sex, the club, and killing were his life.

  “We’ve all got a past, and we’ve all got our crosses to bear. Some of us have it worse than others.” He tilted her head back so she could look at him. “You’re welcome to stay here,” he said.

  “I’ve got my own place.”

  “You’re alone in a city that’s fucking rotten, baby. You’ve got more chance of surviving in the fucking wild than you do here. You’re damn lucky you’ve made it this far. Your family is religious so you’ve been protected from a lot of shit. Take my help.”

  He didn’t even know why he was helping her. The last thing he needed in his life was a woman running from her past. It shouted trouble, yet he couldn’t do it. He couldn’t walk away and let her go.

  “I’ve got nothing to give—”

  “I’m not asking for anything. I’ve got a spare room. Keep clean, stay quiet, and you and I won’t have a problem. I’m good to live with since I’m not really here that much. I’ve got my own life, a club I’m at most of the time.” He stood up, needing to create some distance between them. “I’ll show you the room.”

  Walking on ahead, he opened the spare room door and flicked on the light. “It’s not much. Tomorrow, I’ll go gather your shit. You can still work, save up, and we’ll talk about what you can do next. Do you have any plans?”

  “No. My only plan was to hide.”

  “Then I can help you stay hidden.” Rubbing the back of his head, he blew out a breath. “I’m grabbing a shower and getting some sleep. When do you work next?”
<
br />   “Tomorrow night.”

  “Tell them you fell down or some shit. Don’t say anything about being attacked.” He nodded at her face.

  Get away from her.

  You’re a monster.

  She’s an innocent.

  “If you need anything, let me know.”

  He left her alone and made his way into his own room. Striker took a quick shower in the en-suite and climbed into bed. It had been a long damn night, and it was too damn early to be getting up. His cell phone buzzed with a message from Nerd. The bodies were buried, and there was no trace of any action. He took deep breaths, just lying there for a moment, not able to fall asleep right away because he kept thinking about Elena.

  It was a bad move he’d made with her, but it was one he couldn’t change.

  Fuck.

  Shit, there was nothing he could do.

  Leaving her out in the world alone was like throwing a kitten to the wolves. He’d never do something like that, even if he was one of those fucking wolves.

  Deal with it tomorrow. Everything will be fine then.

  Elena woke up to the sun shining through the curtain. The spare bedroom was large enough for a bed, a small dresser opposite the bed, and nothing else. It was nice, and what she loved about the small bedroom, compared to her apartment, was she felt safe.

  She hadn’t felt safe in a long time. Even at her parents’ house, they’d allowed her uncle to visit her. Nothing happened. He used to watch her sleep and maybe touch her hand. Elena had noticed a change in him though. He started looking at her in ways that didn’t have anything to do with watching over a loved one. He’d wanted to do more and was waiting for the right time to do it.