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Michelle Woods - Becoming Raven's Man (Red Devils MC #7)

Page 2

by Unknown


  That relieved Raven a bit; she really didn’t like Ghost, he gave her the creeps. Not that she wasn’t freaked out to be around any of them, she was. At least she didn’t get shivers down her spine when any of the others looked at her. They began walking towards the diner. One of the Headhunters who stood near them met her eyes with his, and she’d swear she saw sympathy in his eyes, which was odd. He wore the Headhunter’s cut, and he had light brown hair and blue-green eyes that seemed to soften when he looked at her. She didn’t know if that was a good or a bad thing. She just knew that she wanted to get away from these men before she ended up on the truck headed God knows where.

  She noticed when Blue-eyes stepped in front of her that his cut wasn’t finished. He didn’t have rockers, which meant he was a prospect. Dang, it was funny how much her life had changed in the last six months. Had you asked her then what the missing rockers meant, she would have had no idea a few months ago, but now after seeing her brother wearing his, she did. She liked the Devil’s cuts better, she mused, staring absently at the dragon holding a severed head. Yeah, that wasn’t a pretty picture. Of course, after seeing them in action today she would call that gruesome depiction accurate.

  Viper was behind her now as they neared the diner door, his hand still on her elbow, making her feel trapped and a bit shaky. Blue-eyes held the door for her, which surprised her; she hadn’t expected manners from a scumbag who ran with the Headhunters MC. That really should have been her first clue about Viper, she realized, the fact that he didn’t hold doors for her, or allow her to choose the restaurant, or really anything. How had she not noticed that?

  Raven felt like an idiot now, standing here in the doorway of a diner in the middle of nowhere, and she wanted to just ball her eyes out. Instead she followed blue-eyes into the diner, hoping she could get away from them sooner rather than later.

  Viper released her arm when they were inside and she looked around, seeing a dingy counter, and the white leather booths that looked frayed and dirty, almost yellow from the abuse they’d received. Well that explained the broken sign, she supposed. Seeing a plastic woman on the door of a room off to the left, she began moving in that direction ready to get away from Viper and his crew.

  A hard hand landed on her arm squeezing painfully tight. She winced and wanted to jerk away but knew it would only make it worse. She turned to look at Viper, who held her arm in that tight grip.

  “Where are you going, Doll?” he asked, a frown on his face.

  “The bathroom,” she replied, trying not to allow the trembling disgust show in her eyes as she looked at him.

  “Don’t take long, we have a ways to go tonight and I want to hurry this little side trip up, okay.”

  She forced herself to smile brightly at him, her arm aching where his fingers dug into her. “Okay,” she said, grateful when he finally let her go.

  She turned towards the bathroom, almost running to it, unable to help her headlong rush in her need to leave him behind. She wanted to cry as she pushed the door to the bathroom open and saw a window just large enough for her to squeeze through. Now if it wasn’t sealed shut she just might be able to escape.

  Standing near the dirty sink, which had an ugly brown ring in it and cracked porcelain, she studied the window. It was a bit high, but if she stood on the edge of the sink she’d be able to hoist herself out it. She looked at herself in the dusty mirror for a moment, taking in her windblown hair and the frightened look on her face. No wonder he’d been holding onto her arm like a leash. He’d likely been afraid she’d run. She was going to run, so that had been a valid fear she supposed.

  She needed to get the hell out of here and find a phone and a place to hide while she waited on her brother to come and get her. She really didn’t want to hear the lecture she was sure to get from both Mia and Marcus. Heck, likely from Ratchet and Tick too. Darn, this sucked, she thought as she brushed her hair off her forehead with another hard sigh. Best get away so that she could get those lectures over with.

  She balanced on the edge of the sink wiggling the lock back and forth, only it wasn’t budging. Growling in frustration because every second she spent playing with this danged lock was another second she didn’t have to get away from Viper and his gang, she jerked on the rusted lock desperately. She felt her foot slip and caught herself by gripping the window sill, letting out a little moan of pain when her shoulder made contact with the brick wall.

  She dangled a few feet above the floor trying to get her feet back on the sink by swinging as best she could while holding onto the rusted lock for dear life. If she fell and hurt her ankle she’d never make it away from Viper. After several moments of desperate movements and ominous creaks from the window’s lock, she managed to get her right foot on the sink, cringing as she stuck her foot into the grungy bottom to push up and pulled her other foot into the sink beside its mate.

  She rearranged herself once she was safely in the sink again and within moments she was pulling on the lock again. It seemed looser now than it had before she’d hung from it just a moment ago and she managed to break it free with a low cry of triumph. Opening the window, she winced when it squeaked loudly. Turning to look at the door, holding her breath, she waited. She was sure that at any moment Viper or one of the prospects would be rushing into the room to grab her.

  After several breathless moments of waiting, she let the air out of her tortured lungs grateful that she was not going to be caught, at least not yet. Then she lifted herself onto the sill of the window. She managed not to fall as she hoisted herself out the small but thankfully large enough window to the outside of the building.

  She looked down as she sat there realizing that she’d not thought this out very well because the ground was a long ways down. Shoot, she hadn’t thought beyond getting out and away from them. Now she would have to drop down and risk a hurt ankle. It wasn’t a large drop, but high enough that it could cause a sprained ankle or other injury.

  There was no hope for it. If she wanted to get away, and she did, then this drop to the hard ground was the only choice she had. That thought floating around in her head, she dropped to the ground, letting out a small cry on impact as she connected with the ground, falling forward. Panting, she lay there for several seconds before she got to her feet.

  Thankfully she hadn’t done any permanent damage to her ankles or legs, although the ground had scraped her hands and her knees ached from the slight impact. She looked around the dark parking lot to the nearby buildings seeing a light about three hundred yards away. She took off at a dead run towards the light hoping like hell the whole time that whoever was in that building wasn’t part of the Headhunters MC.

  As she neared the front of the building, she glanced back at the diner to see that thankfully no one was following her. This might just work, she thought with relief. Of course, that all depended on whether or not the person in that building was willing to help her rather than turn her over to her captors.

  Pulling the thankfully unlocked door open, she entered the small shop walking towards the back room where she heard music playing. Her hands shook and she prayed that the person was willing to help her.

  “Excuse me,” she called out loudly towards the room, waiting.

  “We’re closed,” a man’s voice barked at her. “How’d you get in?” the voice demanded.

  “Umm, the door was unlocked.”

  “Damn that boy, he never locks up when he leaves and now I have nosy people coming in to bother me when I am trying to work,” the man grumbled and she heard feet shuffling from the back room before a bushy gray head attached to a stooped almost frail body appeared. The man came to a halt at the counter, his liver-marked hands holding what looked like a soldering gun, and his bushy white brows were drawn together.

  “What do you want, Girl? I don’t have all night to stand about while you get to the point of your visit,” he demanded, glaring at Raven.

  “I need to use your phone if you have one,” Raven told him,
hoping that he even had a phone. She waited for his reply with her hands shaking and her bottom lip held between her teeth.

  “What do you think this is, little miss, a phone booth? You can get your own phone, can’t you,” he growled, his bushy brows raised and a scowl on his face.

  “Mine is broken. Please, can I just borrow yours for a minute. I need to call my brother to come and get me, then I will give it right back.” She waited, biting harder into her lower lip.

  “Fine, but that’s it, one minute.” He moved back to the little room and a few moments later came back grumbling, “Can’t understand these useless youngsters today, breaking their phones like they haven’t a care in the world and then bothering me when I’m working.” He stopped grumbling as he neared Raven with the phone. “Here you go. One minute.”

  Raven took the phone and dialed her brother’s number. After three rings she began to get nervous. What if he wasn’t around his phone for some reason? It was late after all, or he could be doing something for the club. Or maybe he wouldn’t answer because he didn’t know this number. Raven felt her heart pounding in her ears as she waited for him to pick up.

  On the fifth ring she almost sighed in relief when Marcus’s rough voice growled, “Who is this?”

  “Marcus, its me,” Raven started, but was cut off by her brother’s loud growl.

  “Raven, where the hell are you? We’ve been worried sick about you! I can’t believe that you haven’t called us before now.” Marcus was ranting and she could hear male voices in the background asking where the hell she was.

  “Marcus, stop. I only have a few minutes to talk. I’m in trouble,” she got out before he started up again.

  “I told you not to go off with that idiot. What’s he done, abandoned you somewhere? I wish you’d listen to me when I—”

  “Marcus, listen to me!” Raven yelled, making the old man grumble about disrespectful youngsters.

  “Viper is a Headhunter. I got away but I don’t know how long I can hide. Heck, or even where to hide. I need you to come and get me. I am at a diner on route nine calle—” The phone was suddenly ripped from her hands and a hard male hand slammed her against the counter. Her face pressed against the wooden surface painfully. She cried out, hearing her brother on the phone screaming to not hang up, to tell him where she was, but it was too late, she’d been found.

  She could see Viper shaking his head from where he pressed the side of her face into the wooden counter.

  “Tisk, tisk, Raven. I really wish you hadn’t done this,” he murmured, his smile cruel and his eyes looking beady all of the sudden. “Things were going so well.”

  Shoot, she really should have hidden first and then found a phone. She really was an idiot.

  Chapter 3

  “Son of a bitch! Raven! Raven!” Marcus Lancaster yelled into the phone feeling helpless. His sister was in trouble and they didn’t even know where she was other than somewhere on route nine. She’d been gone for about two and a half weeks. Just long enough for him to start panicking. Not that her leaving with a man she barely knew hadn’t made him panic, it had, but at the time he hadn’t known that Viper was a Headhunter. Now he was really starting to panic.

  He heard his sister cry out and then a snide male voice saying “Tisk-tisk, Raven. I really wish you hadn’t done this—” before the call was cut off and the line went dead. Throwing his own phone against the wall, his anger boiled inside him.

  “Shit, calm down, man. We’ll get her back,” Tank assured him.

  “Yeah, we always go after our own,” Ratchet growled, standing beside him. He reached out lying a hand on his shoulder, squeezing.

  Marcus shrugged it off and began pacing back and forth, his hands running through his hair.

  “No, fuck. A headhunter has her. Son of a bitch, even if we get her back will she be the same?” Marcus demanded, his eyes filled with the sheen of unshed tears, held in with the sheer force of his will. Fuck, he was acting like a damned pussy, but she was his baby sister.

  “Damn,” Tick whispered. “We’ll still get her back.”

  Marcus wanted to murder the son of a bitch who’d taken his sister. He didn’t know what the hell that fucker was doing to her right now but he knew he wanted to kill him with his bare hands.

  Marcus was still pacing, his mind racing, his hands clenching and unclenching. He perched on the side of the desk trying to contain his chaotic thoughts. His mind followed a dark path of worry, and cycled back to the only one that horrified him because he felt it was the most damaging for a woman. Rape. It was such a violation that many women never recovered.

  Most came back from physical scars. Of course, there were times when the trauma from repeated beatings and starvation could make a person shut down too. It just seemed that rape was so much worse than the beatings. God, his baby sister in the hands of a Headhunter, he thought. What the hell was he going to do?

  Unable to contain the fear and rage that seemed to consume him, he jumped to his feet again, pacing back and forth.

  “Sit down, Marc,” Tank grunted harshly.

  “Leave him be, Tank. He’s worried about his sister,” Trick grumbled from where he sat in the corner.

  Marcus ignored them all and continued to pace as his mind ran in circles with each thought worse and more frightening than the last. He ran his hands over his buzzed hair wondering what the hell he was going to do. Why had he waited to go after her until this week?

  He almost wanted to kick his own ass for that lack of forethought. If he’d asked for this meeting a week ago he might have already found Raven and this would all be a nightmare that they damned sure weren’t going to repeat. He felt his guts twist when thinking about what she was suffering at the moment at the hands of a monster.

  Bone entered the room with Tiny and Slim following behind him. He took in the room for a moment from the doorway, his eyes following Marcus as he paced, then he looked around at the other men’s faces.

  “What happened?” Bone asked as he stepped inside and the two other men moved into the room behind him.

  “Headhunters have her,” Tank informed him flatly.

  “Fuck,” Bone growled. “How the hell did that happen?”

  “Fucker was a Headhunter before he left with her and now she’s somewhere off route nine with nobody to help her,” Marcus growled, his wrath boiling so hotly it was a wonder his brain didn’t shut down.

  “How do we know where she is? Did they call to set up a meet or something?” Bone asked looking confused.

  “No, she called a few minutes ago. Don’t think it went well because Marc started acting crazy right before he threw his phone.”

  Marcus glared at Tank, who’d just called him crazy. Right now wasn’t the time to fuck with him; didn’t the other man know that?

  “You’d be acting fucking crazy too if you’d just heard your sister cry out in pain and knew that some stupid fuck had her,” he growled.

  “Damn, so she is not okay anymore even if she was a little bit ago. Who do we have that can go after her?” Bone asked Tank.

  “I’ll find her,” Tick said

  “I don’t think that’s a smart move—” Tank began but was cut off by Marcus who roared, “What the fuck do you mean you don’t think that’s a smart move, asshole. He’s the best tracker we have!”

  “And that’s why it’s not a smart move! Right now they might not know she is part of the Red Devils and that could be why she was safe until now. After the way we’ve been picking off both the Headhunters and the Jackals lately, she’s lucky to still be alive. Did he ever see you in your cut?” Tank asked grimly.

  Dog entered the room, followed by Log and Pretty Boy. Dog glanced around at the tense faces before he sat down next to Trick and waited. Pretty Boy and Log watched silently from the nearby wall.

  Marcus answered Tank’s question with a shake of his head. “Maybe. Hell, I don’t know. I can’t remember much other than I didn’t like the son of a bitch. And that wasn’t ju
st because he was fucking around with my sister either. It was just a vibe I got off him like he wasn’t quite what he seemed.”

  “I’d bet good money that he never saw you in your cut, otherwise he’d have already gotten rid of her.” Tank’s face was grim, his body tense. Marcus got in his face, his fists clenched at his sides. He wanted to hit him, but common sense held him back because the man was almost twice his size.

  “That’s my fucking sister you’re talking abo—“

  “Shut up and listen. I know she’s your sister, but there isn’t a man in this room who wouldn’t lay down his life for her and you damned well know it!” Tank roared, shoving him back. “Now shut up and let me finish. As I was saying I bet he doesn’t know she’s connected to the Red Devils MC. And right now that is a good thing. If they knew, we’d likely find a body rather than a breathing woman at the end of this search. Which is why Tick going after her when everyone knows he’s the one we send out to find people would be a bad idea,” Tank finished.

  “Damn, he’s right,” Trick murmured from his spot to his left. Marcus felt his heart squeeze, his brain wrapping around the fact that their best tracker couldn’t go after his sister without putting her in more danger than she was already in.

  “Then who can we send because there is no way in hell you’re sending a fucking prospect who can’t find his ass with a road map!” Marcus roared irritably.

  “Need I remind you that you’re a prospect?” Bone asked with a raised brow.

  “No, but I can find my ass without a road map, can’t I? Or you wouldn’t be considering giving me my rockers, now would you?” Marcus asked feeling his guts knotting up again.

  Bone raised his other brow at this. “And how do you know we are considering giving you rockers?” he asked.

  “I might have heard it from someone. The inner sanctum isn’t as tight lipped as you’d like.”

  Bone turned to glare at Tank who just glared back, unashamed of his loose lips when it came to gossip. Tank shrugged.

 

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