Road Warriors (Motorcycle Club Romance Collection) (Bad Boy Collections Book 4)

by Faye, Amy

  Which was why I felt I had to fight to keep him around. He seemed more serious than usual about leaving me.

  “I am.” His face had no shred of unhappiness or remorse. Just factual boredom. “You should not expect to see me again.”

  “You're kidding, right?” I laughed, but then he stepped away. How many times had he tried to pull this same stunt with me? Of course I didn't believe he was serious.

  I reached out to grab his hand. “No, stay with me! I'll be good!”

  “Imogael,” he said, finally some amusement on his face. “You are, by definition, evil.”

  If a demon was capable of blushing from embarrassment, I would have been blushing then. “I'll keep us a secret! No one has to know, Seraniel.”

  He sighed and finally stopped trying to break free from me. “There is no way to fix this. Whatever we had was fundamentally disordered and wrong.” He touched my shoulder, his soft hand sliding down my bare skin. “Stop being so stupid. You were a great lay, but did you really expect an angel to fall in love with a demon?”

  I was screaming and thrashing at him long before I even registered that I was doing it. Fists punching, feet kicking at shins, I was essentially having a temper tantrum. “No! You're no going, damn it!”

  “I am.”

  As he walked away, my body started to burn incredibly hot. I felt as if I might implode, and wondered if such an explosion would take Seraniel with me. Hurting him would be good. I wanted to hurt him.

  Looking over his shoulder at me, his blue eyes turned dark black. “What are you doing?” He asked, his voice colder than ever.

  “Making you pay!” I cried, holding my arms at my side, my fists balled up. The moment was coming, the moment when all would be gone and he would suffer for having done me so wrong.

  The world around me was engulfed in sudden black, and the heat of my body instead burned cold. Freezing. All but Seraniel was gone, then, and he watched me in that void with his cold, blue-jewel eyes.

  Lifting his hand, he pressed his fingers together. The snap reverberated, and then he was gone. All was gone. All was black.

  Scott

  I was agitated as I drove down the interstate with a giant gym bag slung on my shoulder, and I had ever damn reason to be. The guns in that bag were extremely illegal. Like, being caught with them meant a lot of jail time, and I wasn't ready to go back.

  The cops were on my side, though. That's what happens when you're a runner, keeping the peace between multiple motorcycle groups while not really having a club of your own. And if there was ever a description of me, that was it. There was nothing else in my life anymore.

  No, I dealt with the gangs and the clubs and I kept them all happy with each other. I was a fixer when people died. A business man when territory was being contested. A lawyer when it came to money, and a runner for drugs and guns.

  Usually the drugs and guns were shared between gangs when one gang had seriously fucked up. Yeah, that perfectly described what happened between The Mob and Hiroshima MC. The kid that was killed by The Mob was 16, and his mom told me he was going to Harvard.

  Some guns weren't going to fix that, but it would keep the peace, and I didn't want to be in the middle of a goddamn war.

  The bluetooth piece in my ear chirped at me, signaling a phone call. I ignored it. The guns were supposed to be in Saejima's hands an hour ago, and I wasn't about to be distracted by a brothel.

  Then they called again. Everyone I dealt with knew better than to call twice unless the house was burning down around them. “What?” I said, my voice mean.

  “Hey, don't yell at me!” Came the feminine voice on the other end. “Look, Scott, we got a problem, and it's a weird one.”

  “Spit it out, Starr, I'm on a run.” She had a bad habit of talking his ear off before getting around to the point, and he didn't have the time.

  “There's a naked girl in my lab,” she answered, and I couldn't help but laugh.

  “Last I checked, Starr, you have naked girls everywhere on that farm of yours. What makes this one special?”

  “I ain't never seen this bitch in my life, and she's covered in something and it ain't cum. Plus, you know I keep my lab locked up damn tight. I can't figure how she got down there at all.”

  Well, she caught my interest. See, Starr ran a brothel on top of a meth lab, because if you're going to commit one crime, why not commit them all? She also ran The Black Diamonds, an all woman motorcycle group that had a hell of a reputation for murder and general mayhem. If Starr was freaked out about something, you better be freaked out about it too, or she might blame you for it.

  “Motherfucker. I have to finish this.” Saejima was not a particularly patient man. That became doubly true when his little cousin had just been killed.

  “No, you get your tight ass out here and help me, because otherwise I'm gonna kill her and I know you don't like that.” I just imagined her putting one hand on her hip and it pissed me off.

  I was going to slap that woman if she kept demanding things from me, but I sighed and agreed, getting off at the next exit and turning around. The farm wasn't too far from where I was.

  It was a giant house, an old antebellum building that used to hold a damn lot of slaves to work the sprawling fields behind it. Now it held slaves of a different kind, though all of Starr's women came to her more or less willingly. Sometimes more, sometimes less. She treated them well enough, though. Better than the other brothels I'd seen around Arkansas.

  “Hey,” I said, examining the steps as I walked up them. One of the women sitting on the swing outside of the house looked up at me through long eyelashes. “You better repaint the chip in these steps before Starr notices, or she'll whip you all.”

  The woman jumped up, the gold bracelets on her wrist jingling as she did so, and then she left to find the paint in the shed behind the house. When I stepped through the door, I was welcomed with the blessed air conditioning that kept the house practically frigid. Starr was the kind of woman that ran hot, and it had only gotten worse since she lost her period and gained a granddaughter.

  Cute kid, by the way, and wicked smart.

  “Ladies,” I said, tipping my head towards the gaggle of women sitting in the living room. They watched me as I stepped through the kitchen and onto the steps that led to the basement. The door to the lab was wide open, and Starr was waiting there with her arms crossed.

  “She's still asleep. None of us have touched her.” Starr was an old lady, but still beautiful as hell. With such a smooth face and her blonde hair done up in a bun, she could still pass for 30. Her long, thin arms pulled me in for a hug.

  Starr was just about the only woman on the farm that I hadn't fucked. She was more like a mother to me, and older women weren't my thing anyway. I motioned for her to take me to the girl, and I followed close behind her. Starr didn't like people wandering in the lab.

  “I'm telling you, Scott. I ain't never seen her before. And with hair like that? A body like that? I'd remember.”

  She wasn't kidding. The woman on the floor had fire for hair, red with orange highlights and yellow tips. Her body was the kind that any man would want to have all over him, and I was no exception.

  Naked and huddled underneath a table, her body was wrapped around one of the table's legs. She was covered in some kind of goop. It was clear, but it sparkled like a kid's craft project.

  Nudging her with my boot, I startle her awake. “Where am I?” She asks, but seems confused by her mouth. A hand touches her lips. “It's freezing!”

  The lady was clearly nuts. It was 95 degrees out and only getting hotter. “You're in Arkansas, and you're in deep shit,” I said.

  She looked up at me with big, green eyes. God, I about died from that look. Her hand went from her lips, down to her legs, sliding over her smooth skin. Then she touched between them, and I felt heat on my neck that threatened to rise to my face. Fingers slipping up to her stomach, her tits.

  Bending quickly, she looked over her
shoulder at her back. Her back was covered in huge bruises, from her shoulder blades down to her lower back. They looked damn painful.

  “Oh, no...” She sobbed, tragedy flashing across her face.

  Chapter 2

  Imogael

  My goddamn wings were gone. My wings! The very sign of my lineage, the design passed down from Lucifer himself for my family, and they were gone! They had only just grown in, and I was so proud of them. My family was one of the oldest, most powerful demon families in Hell.

  All of that was gone.

  This thing, this human, was standing in front of me, his brown eyes momentarily soft with worry after seeing my back. One look at him told me everything: I was sent to Earth. This would be my own Hell. Seraniel had so desperately wanted to be rid of me that he sent me where even he could not touch me.

  The blackest despair I had ever felt crept up on me. I wanted to die, to cease existing. Earth was so cold, it smelled of uncooked humans, and I had lost my wings. Oblivion would have been preferable.

  “What's your name?” The man asked. His hair was black, as black as Seraniel's skin had been. I found myself wanting to dig my fingers into that hair and tug on it, to force the man's mouth open and let my tongue explore him. I didn't quite think that he would appreciate that, though. Best not to make him angry.

  My name? I knew that if I uttered my true name, it might send both humans into madness. While the thought amused me, I found myself curious about the world around me as I was disgusted.

  What was the name of the last human I had tortured? Ah, yes, it was Elise. I would choose that as my name. “Elise,” I said, my earthly voice still strange to me. It sounded higher in pitch, and had a morose tone to it.

  I dipped a finger in the liquid that was around me as it evaporated. It was the only proof she needed that Seraniel had sent her here, since it was the sign of angelic magic. Demons had tar. Angels had some goopy, sparkly bullshit.

  “Well, Elise, my name is Scott and as far as I see it, you have two choices. You either come with me and go talk to the cops about those bruises, or you stay here, get beaten worse than whoever did that to you beat you, and be forced to become one of Starr's whores.”

  “Oh, I'm more likely to just kill her for trespassin'.” The old hag behind Scott watched me with suspicion. “I don't want none of her mess around here.”

  Scott rolled his eyes and shot Starr a disgusted look. My magic was weaker here than it had been in Hell, but I could see enough into his mind to be amused by the violence within him.

  “I think I'll stay. That second option sounds fun,” I answered, tilting my head up to him with a wide smile. “Both versions of it.”

  “Motherfucker,” he cursed. “The second option wasn't really an option. Get your ass up and put some goddamn clothes on so we can go.”

  “What if I don't want to?” I asked, egging him on. I wanted him to hit me, to lash out somehow. It would be nice to feel him treat me the same way Seraniel had treated me.

  The muscle in his jaw clenched, but he turned his stubborn look to the old lady. “Get her some clothes before I slap the shit out of her,” he said, stepping to the side and leaning against the wall. Starr ran up the stairs and then brought down a handful of clothes. Starr's eyes were sharp with hatred as she looked at me, which didn't really bother me that much. I was used to humans hating me, and I usually deserved it!

  She handed them to me as I stood, unashamed of my body. Aside from the color of my skin and the lack of horns or wings, it was undoubtedly my body, with the same muscular structure and thin composition.

  I was handed the clothes, and upon looking at them, saw that they were a mini skirt and halter top. Slutty, just how I liked it, and no panties either. Since I had already latched onto the man, I figured I might as well tease him a bit.

  Slipping the clothes on while he watched, I sensed that he was becoming aroused. It would have been nice to have some of my magic to make my lips a little puffier, or my tits a little bigger. As it was, this was going to have to do, and it seemed to be just enough.

  The skirt was soft, but the top was a little too tight around my breasts. I tugged at it while I watched him. His eyes were glued on my nipples, which stood a little stiffer from the attention. Oh, I did so love that attention. I made sure to brush my hand against my nipples before standing with my arms at my sides.

  Toying with humans was fun. I wondered, then, if every human was so easy to play with. I had been given the impression that they were only weak of mind while in Hell, but that seemed to not be the case at all.

  Starr handed me high heeled shoes, shiny red. They were probably the only things I would keep wearing once I had the chance to change my clothes. Generally, in Hell, I went around naked. Clothes were more like costumes, and I still saw them that way.

  “Come on,” he grunted, throwing his thumb towards the stairs.

  “I told you, I'm not going with you.” I wanted to milk this for all it was worth before I had to escape from him. Or maybe I could stay with him for a while, and get him to teach me about his world. Obviously he would never believe me if I just told him I was a demon, but… I never needed to use that information before. Just my body and a pouty mouth would be enough for most human men, I bet.

  He growled and grabbed my arm, pushing me toward the stairs. “Look lady, I don't have time for whatever bullshit your drugged up little brain is concocting.” He paused and pulled out some kind of machine from his pocket. “Fuck,” he said.

  Scott

  Saejima was pissed. I knew that before I answered the phone, but his agitated voice cemented that fact. “Where the fuck are you?” It wasn't going to be pleasant dealing with him.

  “The Black Diamonds had a problem,” I began to explain, but he cut me off.

  “You're late, and you're out playing with the hookers?!” He boomed, so loud that it made the phone crackle. Saejima was usually exceptionally nice to me, since I saved his ass more times than he could count. I saved his whole club, in fact.

  I leaned back against the wall again, looking up at the ceiling and wondering what I had done to deserve this shit. “Yeah, I know I'm late. Look, some weird girl was found naked in Starr's meth lab, when the door was locked.” I looked at Elise, whose wild hair cascaded over her shoulders.

  Her name was obviously fake, but that didn't matter. What did matter was getting her to tell me the name of the scumbag that hurt her back like that. If I could just get her to trust me with that, I could take care of her problem and then get her out of my hair.

  Having women around me for any length of time was usually dangerous for them.

  But with a name, I could probably shoot the guy in the head before sundown, then drop her off at a women's shelter and ride off into the sunset, free to use Starr's girls with no strings attached. It wasn't a fulfilling life, but I had lost all desire for a fulfilling life, years ago.

  “Stop messing with the hookers, put your pants on, and bring me my fucking guns, Scott. You have an hour.” He hung up, leaving me to curse. An hour was barely enough time to make it to Hiroshima's headquarters.

  I grumbled and looked to Elise again. She looked drop dead gorgeous, even wearing the clothes of a street walker. Somehow the wild color of her hair seemed natural. It made me want to touch it, to see if it was as hot as the fire it resembled.

  “You're coming with me to finish this job, and then we're going to have a chat about those bruises on your back,” I told her. She just gave me a sly smile, the kind of smile you want to slap off a girl's face before kissing her. “I expect you to give me a name, and no funny business. Whatever he said about hurting you if you went for help, it was a lie. Got it?”

  “Oh, I got it,” she said. “But he lives far away. Very far away. I'm not sure you or I will ever see him again.” She pouted. God, I wanted to taste those lips.

  “What, was he some kind of foreigner on vacation or something?” I asked. I had no problem with other races, not like The Mob did
, but if some un-American fuck came to my country to beat on the women, that pissed me off even more.

  She puts a finger to her chin and thinks, her smile never fading. “Hmm, something like that, yes,” she said. She was playing some kind of game with me. I hated games, but she was fun. Interesting.

  Interesting was dangerous.

  I took out my wallet and pulled a piece of card stock from it. “Here,” I said, handing it to the woman. Her long fingers poked out to pinch the card away from me.

  “What's this?” She asked, looking it over.

  “It's my number. If I'm not around and you see him again, you can use that to get hold of me,” I explained. My card just called me a “professional problem solver”. It was close enough, without freaking out the kid at the print shop. They normally were most useful when I was traveling outside of my sphere of influence, where I would run into other gangs that might have a problem with me if I didn't offer my services to them.

  “Hm, what do I do with it?” She asked.

  I just rolled my eyes. “You're laying this on pretty thick, lady. Stuff that in your tits, and let's go.”

  I couldn't help it as I watched her slide the card into her cleavage. My cock stirred with a savage desire when she looked back up at me. The colors of her skin, her hair, her eyes… they all seemed too bright. Like someone turned the saturation up on her, so that the rest of the world would look dull around her.

  “Up the stairs,” I commanded, following behind her. Taking a peak up, I saw her cunt. No panties. Biting my lower lip, I let myself enjoy the sight. It would be nice to bury my face in those folds and taste her. Her pussy was bald, just how I liked it. It also looked a little slick from arousal. Nice.

  When she reached the top, she waited for me, and I escorted her out of the house. Starr's other women all watched her with something like jealousy as I took her hand and led her to the front door. They never got much affection from me. To see some strange girl be touched in any way other than brutally must have really pissed them off.