The Soldiers of Wrath MC: Complete Series

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The Soldiers of Wrath MC: Complete Series Page 57

by Jenika Snow


  Her time had been running out, and when she’d finally had the opportunity, she’d run and not looked back.

  Climbing out of bed, she made her way into the kitchen. Striker’s door was still closed. What should she do? Waking him up seemed rather rude, especially since he’d been more than kind to her. Going to the bathroom, she used the toilet then washed her hands, before brushing her teeth with the spare one Striker had left for her to use.

  Once that was done, she walked back into the kitchen, recalling how clean and neat he actually was.

  I can make him breakfast. It’ll be a small token of gratitude.

  She opened the fridge and pulled out some eggs, butter, and right at the back was some cheese.

  Checking every cupboard, she found some bagels that needed to be used, along with a couple of items that would serve as breakfast.

  Elena was putting the finishing touches to the eggs when he came out, dressed in a pair of baggy pants. He wasn’t wearing a shirt, and her mouth watered. He was covered in ink, not the nice kind either. Different designs covered his body, and her cheeks heated from staring.

  “You like what you see?”

  “I’m so sorry.” She dropped the empty pan on the floor, and quickly bent down to pick it up. “I made you breakfast.”

  “You don’t need to be embarrassed. I bet you’ve not seen that many naked men, have you?”

  “No.”

  He shrugged. “I’ve got no problem with you looking.” He grabbed a fork and scooped up some cheesy eggs from the plate she’d set out on the table.

  Biting her lip, she stood wringing her hands together, waiting for what he actually thought of the food she’d made for him. Her father always graded her on the quality of her food. No man would want a wife if she got less than a B.

  She was starting to sound like a lunatic in her head.

  “Why are you nervous?” he asked. “You poison the food?”

  “No. I hope you like it.”

  “It’s food, and it’s covered in cheese; I’m going to like it.”

  Swallowing down her nerves, she took a seat opposite him, and against all of her training, she took a bite. Striker watched her intently for several seconds.

  “I take it your parents wouldn’t let you do shit like this, eat with the men?” he asked.

  “My father preferred to grade the meals I cooked before I was allowed to sit with him. If my food was awful, I wasn’t allowed to sit at the same table with him.” Yeah, her home life had been pretty damn twisted.

  “Your father is an asshole. Don’t think about him. This is damn tasty.”

  Breathing out a sigh of relief, she smiled. “Thank you.”

  “Don’t mention it. You cook like this all the time, I’m not getting rid of you.”

  She didn’t want him to. Elena actually liked Striker, even if he was a stranger.

  Chapter 8

  “How is shit supposed to play out?” Striker asked, sitting around the meeting table. After he’d slept for another few hours, he’d left Elena at his place. She’d been content reading one of the few books he had, and to be honest, he didn’t even know what in the fuck she’d found. He was a solitary man, never needed anything aside from his club and his hardcore sex, but having Elena around was … nice. The smell of her filled the apartment, made him feel this kind of possessiveness that he wasn’t accustomed to.

  He pictured her sitting on his couch, the t-shirt and sweats he’d given her were his, and that meant they were too big. Her curvy body was swimming in the material, but fuck did that turn him on. Her hair had been in one of those messy buns, and all he could think about was letting the locks down, tearing the clothes from her, and feasting on her body. But what he wanted to do was fucked up, especially given her past and the attack.

  She would run screaming if he told her the sadistic things he wanted to do to her, the depraved things he wanted to deliver to her body. He wanted his marks on her, wanted his hands making her flesh, and wanted the pain he’d give her making her get off.

  He straightened in his chair, his thoughts heading toward more darker, deviant things. He pushed thoughts of Elena out of his head. He needed to go to Dominion, because no way could he break her like that. She was afraid as it was, and he couldn’t make her feel anymore upset, especially because of his sexual needs.

  “You with us, man?” Demon said.

  Striker cleared his throat, realizing they’d been talking about the gun run they were supposed to do this week. “Yeah, sorry,” Striker said and ran his hand over his face.

  “You checked out there for a minute,” Vengeance said.

  “I’m good.” The room stayed silent for a moment.

  “We’re talking about the run for the guns that needs done. I was going to have Joker and Steel head out, take a couple of prospects with them, but also thought having only two Patches might be pushing it. You want to go with Tryk and Weasel as well, and be muscle if shit goes down?” Demon asked, the Soldiers president leaning back in his chair, the leather creaking from his weight.

  “I’m down for whatever.”

  But first I need to hit up Dominion and get this tension out of me. I can’t go back home to Elena when I’m too wound-up.

  To be honest, even thinking about going to Dominion, while it sounded good in the sense he could fuck out his aggression and the dark needs he had, had Striker feeling slightly sick. He didn’t know what it was about Elena, but in the day that he’d known her, killed those fuckers that had attacked her, and taken her back to his place, the very thought of even sticking his dick into another woman seemed nasty as fuck. But he knew he could never be with her in that way; he could never show her what he liked. For one thing, they didn’t know each other, not really. The other thing was she was too damn innocent, and he had a feeling, no, he knew, she was a fucking virgin.

  Fuck.

  “So now we’re talking payment in the form of guns?” Tryk asked, sounding a little annoyed.

  They were accepting this current shipment of guns because a debt they were owed by a smaller gang up North hadn’t come through. The Soldiers had made sure the Acid Boys, a group of punks, in all sense of the word, didn’t have any issues setting up their territory in a small town about an hour from them. The Soldiers had made it known they’d help out the Acid Boys, but it wouldn’t be free. And the only fucking reason they’d helped out a bunch of motherfuckers was because another Patch from an MC the Soldiers were in alliance with had come to them. Apparently, the Patch had a nephew in the punk gang.

  Why the fuck he didn’t get his club to help out wasn’t the issue. The problem now was those little assholes wanted to trade with a shipment of guns they had coming in. The Soldiers preferred money, because at least that could be cleaned. With guns, they’d have to resell them and that was getting into tricky shit, especially with making sure the cops didn’t find out.

  “I don’t fucking like it either, but the guns are top of the line and will be easy enough to move. The only reason we are doing this is because we can double the money and what they owe us.”

  “We should have shot them in the kneecaps so they knew when we say to pay us, we fucking mean it.” Vengeance was the one to speak, the man growling out the words.

  “If this doesn’t work, we can still do that, believe me. I’ll be the first to pop the little fuckers.”

  There was a murmur of agreement.

  “I’ll find out the details later this week, but be ready to ride out when I say,” Demon said and everyone agreed.

  Elena had been reading over the same page for the last twenty minutes. The books she’d found were not exactly what she normally read, because they were books on Harley’s, mechanics, and things like that. But she needed something to occupy her time and mind.

  She got up and headed over to the box of books she’d found in the hall closet. Opening the closet, she crouched low and grabbed the box. She was just going to put the book back, but a picture peaking out from the bot
tom of the box caught her eye. Grabbing it, she felt her eyes widen at the sight before her.

  A naked woman was staring back at Elena, her arms bound above her, her body pressed against some kind of large wooden X. The woman had red marks covering her flesh, and with her legs spread and bound to the bottom of the device she was on, even though it was a photo, Elena could see the glossiness covering her inner thighs.

  What in the hell was this? Why did Striker have it?

  She felt those familiar, dark tendrils of desire move through her. This was not something she should entertain: the thoughts, feelings, even looking at this photo.

  It was these feelings, these desires that had been what she’d held close, kept secret. If anyone knew she wanted to be controlled, dominated in the bedroom, they would have said she was defective, damaged. But the truth was looking at this picture, imagining she was the one restrained, bound, had Elena feeling a heat she’d never experienced before. The space between her legs clenched, became wet as she imaged Striker the one restraining her, putting those marks on her body.

  God, she was sick, truly depraved, but it seemed Striker had a few skeletons in his closest, as well. Maybe they weren’t so different. Maybe if she admitted what she liked, what she wanted, he could be the one to finally give her what she’d been craving? Or maybe she should just leave, keep her dark secrets hidden, and know that she was just a disgusting person with perverse desires.

  Chapter 9

  Sitting at the bar in the clubhouse, Striker stared down into his drink. It was just after lunchtime, but he needed to clear his head. Elena was at home, and life at the club was more than fine, yet something was bugging him, and he didn’t know what it was.

  Dominion.

  “The bodies ceased to exist,” Nerd said, collapsing into a seat beside him.

  “You told me that.”

  “I thought you should know face-to-face. So where’s the special pussy that had you going all mental.”

  Taking a deep breath, Striker turned toward Nerd. “I’m here to have a drink, not talk to you about my feelings.”

  “Oh, you’re in love.”

  “Fuck off, Nerd.”

  “What are you two pussies talking about?” Joker asked, coming up behind them.

  “None of your fucking business,” Striker said.

  “Striker’s got a crush.”

  He glared at Nerd. What the fuck was happening to them, talking about their fucking feelings?

  “No, I don’t.”

  “Oh, a woman. Is this at Dominion or someone else?” Joker said, slapping him on the back.

  “It’s no one.”

  “It’s got to be someone. He killed two men last night, and we had to fucking clean it up.” Nerd kept on talking.

  “Murdering for a woman, it’s got to mean something.”

  “I don’t know her, all right. She worked at a diner where I stopped to have some coffee. I followed her—”

  “Stalker alert,” Steel said, coming to join the conversation.

  “I wasn’t fucking stalking.” You were, you really were.

  He wasn’t stalking. He was protecting her.

  “You followed a woman; you didn’t know who she was, yet you still followed her?” Joker asked.

  “What’s the big fucking deal?”

  “He’s in love!” Nerd said, laughing.

  This is why he could never leave the club. It wasn’t because his brothers were being total assholes; it was because they were there for him. No matter what the problem was, providing he remained loyal to the club, no one could touch him. Last night, he didn’t have a single worry about disposing of the bodies as his brothers had been there. He probably should feel guilty about killing two men, but with what he saw them doing to Elena, he didn’t care. There was no guilt, and the only reason he was thinking about it was because of Elena.

  “You guys are assholes.”

  “When are we going to meet her?” Demon asked.

  “Does she like the odd spanking?” Steel asked, imitating smacking Joker’s ass.

  Rolling his eyes, he grabbed his drink, downing it. “You’re all fucking assholes, and no, you’re not going to meet her. I’ve got to keep her protected from all of you.”

  “You worried about the competition?” Nerd asked.

  “Nah, you couldn’t handle my girl.”

  He left the clubhouse, reeling from what he’d just said. My girl? Elena wasn’t his girl. She was a merely a girl he’d helped in a bad situation.

  She’s sexy as fuck.

  Striker couldn’t deny an attraction, but just because there was one, didn’t mean that he actually wanted anything more to do with her.

  Fuck! He needed to get his rocks off. Straddling his bike, he made his away from the Soldiers clubhouse and headed toward Dominion. There was only one place where he could go to blow off steam, and he had a lot to blow off.

  On the ride there, all he thought about was strapping a woman over a spanking bench, getting her ass completely naked and exposed, whipping the perfect globes until they were red, covered in welts, and she was begging for more. His dick hardened at the thought. Parking his bike when he got to the BDSM club, he was determined to satisfy his appetite for some angry fucking sex. However, as he stood at the entrance of the club, he froze. Zeke made sure his club was available at all times of the day for certain clients. To the main public, the club was closed.

  What the fuck is wrong with me?

  Nothing ever stopped him from going after what he wanted. If he wanted pussy, he went out and got it, no questions. It didn’t matter to him if he screwed a different woman on different days, he never committed to anything.

  Elena was nothing to him … she meant nothing. He didn’t even know her.

  Why is she staying at your apartment? Why are you thinking about her so much?

  Gritting his teeth, he climbed back on his bike. He had much better things to do than go fuck some random pussy who was probably being paid to moan at the feel of a whip. Once he was back at his apartment, he made his way inside, and found Elena curled up on sofa still reading a book. Her cheeks were flushed when she looked up at him, and she scrambled to her feet, putting the book down.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked.

  “Nothing. Is everything okay?”

  “Everything’s fine. Come on, we’ve got to go and grab your shit.” He didn’t look at her, grabbing his keys instead. Striker didn’t know how much stuff she’d have to move, and he wouldn’t be taking any fucked up crap. He had the money for new, and he wasn’t going to have stuff he didn’t like taking up room.

  She rushed to her bedroom and returned seconds later. Her hair was pulled back, and the clothes she wore were still too damn big. It would be good to see her curves on display. Leaving his apartment, he took her hand and helped her in the passenger side of his SUV. He didn’t speak, not even after he started up his car, or even while he was on the road.

  Elena’s hands rested in her lap, and she stared out of the window. Gripping the steering wheel even tighter, he tried to gain control over himself. His cock was incredibly hard, and in the small confines of the car, her scent was distracting him.

  “So, did you have a nice morning?”

  “Fine.”

  “What did you do?” she asked.

  “What’s got you so perky?”

  “You’re in a mood, and it’s making me nervous. I figure I should break the ice and just talk about something.”

  “I was dealing with club shit, and no, you don’t get to know about that. No one gets to know about that.”

  She was silent for a second, and he glanced toward her, seeing her nod. “So no talking about the club. Got it.” She rubbed her thighs, and he took a deep breath. “Thank you.”

  “What are you thanking me for?” he asked.

  “For being nice to me and for doing this. You don’t know what it means.”

  “Have you had any contact with your family?”

  �
�No, none.”

  Thinking about her family made him angrier. He knew better than anyone that there was a lot of fucked up things in the world. “What are the chances of them coming after you?”

  “I don’t know. I hope they don’t.”

  Rubbing his temple while steering with one hand, he took her directions as she started to point left and right. This woman had no idea about her own safety. There’s no way he could let her be in a world on her own.

  “It’s the apartment block on the far right.”

  Pulling up in front of the pitiful excuse for an apartment, he blew out a breath. If anyone wanted to come and take her, they could without a problem. She was more exposed than a fucking porn star.

  The whole apartment building screamed easy prey.

  “This is it,” she said, unbuckling her seatbelt.

  For a second, he watched as she climbed out of the car. Not once did she take in her surroundings. Elena had no sense of danger, and she should, given her family situation and what she’d been through. It pissed him off. There’s no way he could let her go, not now, not ever.

  Chapter 10

  Elena looked behind her as they climbed the worn stairs of the apartment building. Striker had this hard, fierce look on his face. She was slightly embarrassed to have him coming to her place, because his apartment was far more nice and spacious; hers was a downright hovel.

  The stairs had dirt and trash scattered around them, and the scent of old piss filled her nose. This was an apartment building that was on its last legs, but for the price, and the obscurity, she’d taken it. Whether her family would come for her or not was still left to be seen. It might have been a couple of months since she’d run, and so far, she had done well enough to stay hidden; she didn’t know how far her father and uncle would go to find her, especially since she’d been given to her disgusting uncle as a bride.

  “I don’t like you in this fucking place,” Striker said on a low growl.

  The sound of a baby crying faded in the distance the farther they ascended, and a couple screaming at each other came through the closed apartment door they passed.

 

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