by Jenika Snow
The change in Craig was instant. “They always thought they were better than us. They would never allow us to be together. They were cunts, the lot of them, and you deserved better, so much better.” He stood up and began to tower over her.
“I always thought that too.” She held her hand up, hoping to ward him off and for him to see that he was scaring her. “My parents always wanted me to be a certain way and I could never be the person they wanted. I was always afraid, Craig. So scared.” Right now she was terrified of Craig. Part of what she said was the truth. Her parents had been so perfect and she felt that they deserved someone a lot better than her as a daughter. She would do anything to keep him away from her.
She tensed up as he reached out, stroking her cheek. Closing her eyes, she hoped she didn’t show her revulsion to his touch. Her gut was twisting and she didn’t know how long she was going to be able to keep up this charade. Surely Vengeance would find her. He had to find her. There was no one else she could trust.
“I would never hurt you, Constance, even though I’m threatening you now, you’re meant for me. I was always taking care of you. Always loving you and I knew one day we would be together.” He leaned down and pressed his lips against hers. His eyes were closed, and she kissed him back.
Pulling away, she smiled at him. “Thank you.”
“You don’t need to thank me, beautiful. I knew running off with that biker was just a mistake. You were desperate for me, and I will deal with that criminal. You’ll never have to be afraid again.”
Chapter 15
Vengeance pulled to a stop in front of the small, rundown house that was where Craig supposedly lived. Although it was dark outside it was clear the windows had been blacked out, painted not to allow any light to penetrate inside.
“This it?” Weasel asked when he pulled to a stop beside him.
“That’s what Tryk found.”
“Well, let’s get this fucking party started.”
Vengeance couldn’t have said it better himself.
Constance had her hand covering her breasts, and the other covering between her legs. Craig stared at her, lust in his eyes, desire clouding the area around him. She’d bathed and now stood out of the tub, water dripping from her.
“Move your hands.”
She shook her head. “No.” Her voice was soft, barely even audible, but fuck him.
He took a step closer and she moved one back, but the bathtub stopped her retreat.
“I can see you’re going to be difficult again. I thought we had an understanding? I thought you were on the same page as me?”
Playing like she could get out of this, like she could be with Craig in order to save her life, made her feel disgusted. No, she couldn’t pretend, couldn’t act like she could be okay with this. Constance didn’t want Craig thinking there was any hope.
She’d rather die than let that happen.
“You might as well kill me, because I’ll never be what you want me to be. I love Vengeance.”
He curled his lip in disgust.
She swore she heard something outside of the bathroom, but with her heart thundering, her throat tightening, she chalked it up to her wishing Vengeance was here.
Craig moved closer, and before she knew what was happening he backhanded her so hard her entire body twisted to the side. She fell, hitting her head on the side of the tub, pain consuming her.
And then she swore she did hear Vengeance calling her name, right before there was a loud crash and the bathroom door was splintering inward. But darkness swept her under before she could see what was going on.
Vengeance stared at the motherfucker who had been about to do God knows what to his woman. All he could think about when he looked at this piece of shit was the things he would have forced her to do, the way he’d made Constance feel.
All he could think about was seeing Constance on the floor, blood pooling from her temple, and the fear that she was gone slamming into him. Thankfully they got her to their doctor and they got her stable. But who knows what kind of mental shit this fucker had put her through?
Rage and murder filled his head. Vengeance curled his hands into tight fists at his sides. This bastard would pay with his life.
They’d taken Craig back to the clubhouse, were in the basement now, and this was where the prick would die. The had Craig in a chair, his arms and legs bound, his face bloody and beaten because Weasel had gotten to him not more than twenty minutes ago.
Craig was passed out at the moment, most likely from the pain, but he’d be awake soon enough. Vengeance walked up to Craig, backhanded the fucker, and smiled when Craig stuttered awake, moaning form the agony he was clearly in.
He took a step back and thought about how he’d do this. Fast and easy had never been his thing, but then again he wanted this fucker gone so he could be with Constance.
Vengeance swung out and connected his knuckles with the fucker’s face. Craig’s head kicked to the side, and he groaned. He hit Craig again, this time successfully knocking a tooth out.
Craig struggled in his bonds, and Vengeance grinned at that. Blood was a continuous flow from him, and a small pool was now on the floor beneath the man. Good. By the time they were done he’d be soaked in the viscous fluid.
Over and over he punched Craig, and soon the fucker was hunched forward, his breathing ragged.
“Brother, finish the bastard off before he dies and you don’t get that final blow in.” Weasel stood right next to Vengeance now, clapped him on the back, then moved to the other side of the room.
Vengeance didn’t do that though. First he walked over to the table set up in the corner, grabbed the bottle of Scotch and downed three swallows before finally returning to Craig. He stared at the man he was about to kill, the prick who had traumatized Constance. He would have hurt her, raped, hell, might have killed her just so no one else could have her.
“Here, brother,” a Patch said, but Vengeance was too lost in what was happening to know which brother it was who handed him the knife. He grabbed Craig’s chin, forced the fucker to look at him and bared his teeth.
“You should have walked away. But taking my woman, hurting her, doing the unthinkable things you would have done to her, signed your death warrant.”
And then he slid the blade into Craig’s gut.
Vengeance took pleasure in stabbing the motherfucker over and over again, blood covering his hand and chest and splattering on the ground like some grisly massacre. Vengeance pulled the blade out, blood dripping from the now red-stained weapon.
He saw Weasel on the other side of the room, this sadistic smile on the fucker’s face. Weasel liked violence, loved delivering it as well as watching it.
The sound Craig made was one of his lungs filling up, his body shutting down. Vengeance bared his teeth, stabbed the fucker once more, and twisted the blade one last time as the life faded from this motherfucker’s eyes.
Silence filled the room when Craig gave one more stuttering breath.
Vengeance moved back, stared at the piece of shit that wouldn’t ever hurt Constance again, and felt … relief. “Time to bury this fucker six feet under.”
One week later
Constance stared in the mirror at her face, which had a bandage where Craig had hit her. And when she’d hit the tub she had a gash on the side of her face, one that had opened clean up, and would definitely leave a mark. She reached out, touching the pristine white bandage and wondered what the damage would be when it was all said and done.
She’d woken up just a few hours ago. But a week had passed, and she was trying to move on, enjoy her life, even if knowing that Vengeance and his biker brothers had killed Craig was hard to process at times.
When someone cleared their throat, she turned to find Demon standing with his arms folded. “Hey,” he said.
“Hi,” she said, staring at the big biker. Vengeance was due back any moment.
“Deanna said you were in here and I wanted to check on you.”
“I’m fine. Really, I’m fine.”
“I wanted to apologize.”
“What for?”
“My woman adores you. She thinks you’re wonderful, and I do as well. My kid loves you, and the club does as well. We should have been there sooner, and not let that fucker hurt you.”
She nodded, and while she did she felt like a crazy person. “I’m fine. I got through it. There’s nothing to worry about.” She released a breath. “Kind of sucks though. I wish I could have killed him myself.” She rubbed her temple and frowned. “It’s just … it’s always the quiet ones, right? God, it makes me sick to my stomach.”
“You never knew Craig that well?”
“No, I didn’t. To be honest, before my parents’ death I didn’t even know he existed. Does that make me a bad person?”
“I didn’t know Deanna existed until I knew her. With regards to Craig, I would count myself lucky that you didn’t know him before you did. Guy was a serious sick fuck. Did you know he had blood samples in his place?”
“Blood samples?” Constance asked, frowning.
“Yeah, your blood. He had some. I don’t even want to know how he got it, but like I said, he was a seriously sick person.”
“That is just the grossest thing I have ever heard.” She covered her mouth.
“Believe me, he was completely obsessed with you. Your clothes were there. I think even some of your trash was there as well. You dodged a bullet.”
“But he killed my family and my fiancé, Brando.” She sighed. “It’s sad, and painful because I think to myself that I shouldn’t be upset but then I can’t help it. He died and he didn’t need to. Craig’s sick obsession killed him.”
“Did you love him?”
“Brando? I cared about him. A lot. He’s all I knew. I thought I loved him, but he wasn’t the man for me. I love Vengeance with all my heart. I will be by his side, and I will support this club. I promise you,” she said, wrapping her arms around herself. “You’re probably fed up with me.”
“Not at all. You’re a good person, and I know for a fact that Vengeance loves you.”
She smiled. “I love him as well.” Her feelings for Vengeance filled her with so much happiness. “I knew he’d come for me. I never had a single doubt that he would be there.”
“If there is ever anything that you need, just let me know.”
She watched as Demon left the bathroom, and she released a sigh. There was nothing anyone could do. Ever since Vengeance had put Craig to the ground, he hadn’t been around all that much, and that hurt her heart more than anything else.
Had he fallen out of love with her?
Had she done something awful?
She didn’t know, and with each passing day, she knew it was making her ill just thinking about it.
Vengeance sat up on a hill, resting on his bike, cigarette between his lips as he stared at the ground. From the height he was at, he saw the town below, and in the distance he got a clear view of the clubhouse. His eyesight wasn’t the best, and so most of the time it looked like a blurred mess, which he was happy about right now.
He didn’t want to focus. It had been over a week since he had found Constance and taken that fucker out. He was disappointed in himself because he hadn’t spent enough time hurting the bastard. The death had been too quick, and every time he looked at Constance he was swamped by guilt that he didn’t get to her sooner. Right now it was eating away at him, making it next to impossible to focus on anything else.
Every night for the past week she would ask him if he was coming to bed, and he would tell her that he had stuff to do. He wouldn’t sleep beside her, and he would take a few moments just to watch her. She deserved better than him. What he saw and what he knew, the stuff Craig had planned for her, it made him sick to his stomach.
The sound of a bike heading his direction had him turning. Weasel pulled up a few feet away.
“I thought I’d find you here.”
“What the fuck do you want?”
“Why are you here?” Weasel asked. “Why are you not at the club? You know Constance never leaves your room, nor do you go to your home. She’s either in your room or in the bathroom staring at her fucking face.”
The face that had a bandage across it. The doctor had said she would carry a scar for the rest of her life. He could try to repair the damage but in the end she’d still have a scar, a reminder. She was beautiful no matter what.
“Just give her some space.”
“You mean what you’re doing? What the fuck is going on, Vengeance?” Weasel asked. “She’s hurting and you’re here, doing what?”
“I failed her.”
“How the fuck did you fail her? You saved her. You protected her.”
“I got there late. He was able to hurt her, and she’s going to live with that mark for the rest of her life.”
Weasel burst out laughing. He actually grabbed his stomach and laughed. “Wow, you really think that? Are you being dense on fucking purpose? You saved her before he could do anything else.” Weasel shook his head. “You need to get your head out of your ass and go to your woman before you lose another good thing in your life.” He climbed back onto his bike. “And call your sister.”
Him and his fucking obsession with my sister.
Vengeance watched as Weasel rode away. Could he cut himself a break? He would call Renee soon but right now, he really needed to deal with his problems, and one of them was back at the clubhouse.
Chapter 16
Vengeance got back to the clubhouse, went to Constance, but when he found her asleep he left her alone and found a quiet room. He pulled out his cell and stared at it for long seconds.
Enough time has passed.
Pushing aside any anger he held for the fight he’d had with his sister, he dialed her number. His heart was thundering, his need to make things right with the only family he had left riding him hard. But the voicemail kicked on, and he thought about what to say, how to say it.
“Hey there, it’s me, Vengeance.” A moment passed before he continued. “It’s been a while, baby sister, but it’s due time we spoke.” He chuckled humorlessly. “In a way I’m glad I got your voicemail. Makes this a little easier. But makes me seem a little weaker too, I guess.”
He ran a hand over his hair, stared off, and wished he could say these things to her face.
“But I’m sorry for the way I acted, and I know a part of you has to be too. We’ve always been close, always had each other’s backs. At the time I was doing what I thought was best. It’s your life, and you’re an adult. You know what you want. So I’m sorry, because not having you in my life is pretty fucking hard, Renee.”
And that was the truth.
“Give me a call, baby sister. I want to say these things to you, want to make this right again. I want you to meet my woman, want you back in my life. We’re all we have.”
The pain consumed her, the heat and humidity surrounding her. She was shaking, her hands covering her intimate parts as Craig stood on the other side of her. He was laughing at her, watching her, his gaze raking over her as if he were actually reaching out and touching her.
Constance wanted to throw up, wanted to just run and never look back. But she was frozen, unable to move, unable to even breathe. She was stuck in this whirlwind of emotion: fear anger, disgust, and the need for Vengeance to be here.
But Craig came closer, making her feel cramped, suffocated, and having her fear climb even higher. She tried to scream, but her voice didn’t work. She wanted to lash out and hit Craig, but her limbs were like lead, soldered to her body, covering her intimate parts.
And then he reached out for her, touched her, made her skin crawl. She did scream out then, loud, clear, full of passion.
Constance woke with a start, her heart racing, her breathing sawing in and out of her lungs, burning her from the inside out like flames licking over her, consuming her. Sweat beaded her brow, and when she looked to the side of the bed,
hoping Vengeance was there, wanting his comfort, his strong presence, she saw he was absent.
She smoothed her hand over the bed, the sheets cold, letting her know he hadn’t been sleeping beside her all night.
The clock on the bedside table read three in the morning, and although she was exhausted, she couldn’t sleep. Once she was sitting on the edge of the bed, she exhaled, trying to regain her composure and waiting until her heart rate slowed.
She felt on edge, her nightmare coursing through her like a living entity, a reminder of what she’d gone through.
She’d vaguely spoken to Vengeance about what he’d done to Craig, and although he knew she was safe, that Craig couldn’t hurt her anymore, the fact remained Vengeance was distancing himself from her.
He’d become voiceless in their relationship, and she knew it was because he thought he failed her.
She knew that as well as she knew she was alone right now, wanting the man she’d fallen in love with.
Scrubbing a hand over her face, she finally forced herself to stand and walk to the bathroom attached to the bedroom. After turning the light on, she looked at the mess staring back at her. Sweat covered her temple, her hairline was damp, her hair a dark rat’s nest around her head. The bandage on her cheek needed changing, but she hated doing it. But this was her life, and she had to be strong.
Once that bandage was off she stared at the healing wound, the scar that would be left behind not a reminder of her trauma, but of her survival. That’s how she had to look at it, anyway. She turned and looked at the shower, needing to wash away the nightmare she’d had.
And that was just what she did, because after that she and Vengeance needed a serious talk about where their relationship was going. He needed to know that he hadn’t let her down.
He’d saved her life.