No Prisoners MC Box Set

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No Prisoners MC Box Set Page 36

by Lilly Atlas


  Before Lila moved down to his feet, Striker grabbed her face with both hands and drew it to his own. He pressed their lips together in a firm kiss. Both their mouths were bleeding and he didn’t want to cause her any further pain, but he needed to feel her for just a moment. “Let’s get out of here, baby. I’m not going to last much longer.”

  Lila pulled herself together, and liberated his legs and trunk from the chair. He rotated his wrists and ankles to get the blood flowing as renewed pain flooded his system. Shit, that hurt like a son of a bitch.

  “Can you walk?” she asked.

  “I think so. I may need to lean on you a bit, but first you need to find something to cover up with.”

  She peered down at herself, clad only in her lingerie. “Shit, I completely forgot.” She looked around as though searching for her clothes.

  “They aren’t here. I think he destroyed them. Grab something from that dresser.”

  A look of panic crossed her face, and she shook her head vigorously. “No! I can’t put something of his on my body. I can’t do it.”

  She sounded close to the edge, so Striker worked to keep his voice calm. “It’s all right, baby. Help me get my cut off then you can take my sweatshirt. Just unzip it and slide it off me.”

  She shook her head again.

  “I’ll be fine Lila, I promise you. We need to roll before he comes around.”

  She moved toward him, and helped ease him out of his cut. Then, slowly, she worked the sweatshirt down his arms. They didn’t really have the time to waste, but she was trying not to hurt him, and not to freak out, so he didn’t rush her.

  Once it was off, she slipped it over her own body. Striker leaned forward and fumbled with the zipper but was able to close the sweatshirt for her. It was long enough to cover her ass, but the garters and stockings were still visible. It would have to do. He didn’t have a clue where her shoes were, but she could get by without them.

  He slipped his cut back on, then struggled to stand and take a step forward. The world spun and he almost fell on his face, but Lila was there to take his weight. With Lila’s arm around his waist, they hobbled into the hallway.

  “I think he drove us here in your car.” Striker gasped as his ribs screamed in pain. “Look, there on the counter.” He pointed to a kitchen counter about fifteen feet away. “I think those are your keys.”

  “Oh thank God.” Lila swiped the keys from the counter and they staggered their way toward the exit. “Where the hell are we? I don’t see a phone, and you need a hospital. Who knows where our cells are.” Her voice sounded rough and raw, and he knew her throat had to be sore.

  “Earl told me exactly where we are. Bastard bragged all about how he planned this, and how we’re actually really close to the gym. Go there. Jester and Hook will take care of everything and get us to the hospital. You hit your head on the concrete and passed out. You shouldn’t be driving at all. This road ends at a cross in about a mile. Take a right and the gym is about a mile and a half down on the left.”

  They struggled through the front door, and out into the night. It was cold, and next to him Lila trembled from the chill. The house they were in was small, a typical one story desert dwelling. There weren’t any others on this road, at least not that they could see in the black of night.

  Striker stumbled, and a groan of pain escaped Lila as his weight on her increased. “Sorry, babe. I think I’m going to pass out.”

  They were at the car, and instead of answering, Lila leaned him against it as she opened the rear door. She helped ease him inside, and encouraged him to lie down. “I need you to try and stay awake Striker. Talk to me as I drive.”

  He mumbled something in reply, and heard the car door slam as the world went black.

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Fuck, fuck, fuck. This was not good. Striker needed to get to the hospital, and fast. Lila’s entire body throbbed in pain. She hadn’t said anything, but she was dizzy and her head pounded. There was a good chance she’d lose consciousness as well.

  She’d never be able to drive all the way to the hospital. The best option was to do what Striker suggested, and drive back to the gym. The party should still be going strong, and his brothers would take care of them.

  Petrified that Earl might wake up at any moment, Lila moved as fast as her aching body allowed. Her throat was on fire, her ribs throbbed from where they’d crashed against the dresser, and she thought her ankle was sprained. She worked not to fall into hysterics. That could come later.

  Gingerly, she climbed into the driver’s seat, locked the doors, started the car, and pulled out onto the dark road. For the first time since she woke up in hell, Lila had confidence they would make it. Earl was back in the house, hopefully still cuffed to the bed, and they’d made it out alive.

  The MC would never call the cops on him, preferring to handle him on their own. She tried to feel guilty about that, but it didn’t come.

  Striker was right. The gym was very close, and within minutes it came into view. Lila sobbed in relief as the car drew closer to it. With a hard jerk of the steering wheel, she flew into the parking lot, and around the back of the building where the party was still going full blast. Lila laid on the horn to attract as much attention as possible. Tears blocked her vision, and she slammed the car in park.

  With the last of her strength, she shoved the door open, and stumbled out only to look up and glimpse about fifty stunned bikers staring at her, and no less than ten weapons trained on her. “Help,” she said weakly, swaying on her feet.

  “Holy fucking shit! Lila? Put your weapons away! What the fuck happened to you?”

  She glanced up again. Jester sprinted toward her, and she collapsed to her knees, loud sobs echoing through the quiet lot. She couldn’t imagine what they all thought of her right now as she bawled on the ground bleeding, covered in bruises and wearing nothing but a sweatshirt and some lingerie.

  Jester reached her in seconds, and scooped her into his arms where he cradled her against his enormous chest.

  “Striker’s in the back seat,” she choked out between sobs. “He needs help immediately. I need some too. That crazy man who was my patient at the hospital, Earl White, took us from the parking lot. He was behind everything, the Grimms didn’t do a thing.” She turned her face, and buried it in Jester’s shirt as the tears flowed.

  “Fuck,” Jester bit out. “Okay, honey, I’ve got you. You’re safe now. Hook, I’m gonna drive Lila’s car to the hospital. Follow us with a few other guys, and let Shiv know what’s going on.”

  Hook nodded and sprang into action, motioning for others to join him as he pulled out his phone.

  Jester carried Lila around to the passenger side of her idling car. He tried to be gentle, but she was unable to stifle a whimper of pain when he placed her on the soft leather seat.

  “Sorry, honey,” Jester said with a grimace.

  “I’m all right. Just go. We need to get Striker there fast,” she rasped.

  Lila rested her head back against the seat, and closed her eyes as she tried to stem the onslaught of tears. Now that she’d given into them, she couldn’t turn them off. Jester folded his large body in to her little car, but she didn’t react.

  The continuous rumble of the car as he sped toward the hospital had a calming effect. When some of the fear finally ebbed from her system, other unpleasant sensations rushed in. Her head throbbed and her throat was on fire. A sharp, stabbing pain hit her midsection every time she took a breath and her ankle was swelling.

  Striker remained quiet, in the same position she placed him in, sprawled across the back seat. Fear for him was eating at her. What would she do if something happened to him?

  Lila forced those thoughts from her mind, and attempted to reposition her body in the seat, but pain caused her to gasp and remain as she was. Violent shivers racked her body. Shock was setting in. Jester noticed and cranked up the heat in the car before he reached out and folded her trembling hand in his much larger
one.

  She opened her eyes, and sent him a grateful smile. Jester gave her hand a squeeze as his voice permeated the quiet car. “I’m not going to make you tell me everything now, but I have a few important questions. You think you can answer them? Your voice sounds awful.”

  Lila nodded. “What do you want to know?”

  Jester shot her a quick glance, before returning his eyes to the road. They flew down the highway at least thirty miles an hour above the speed limit. Police attention would be very unwelcome.

  “Do we have a body to deal with?”

  The question startled her. Since leaving the house, she hadn’t given a thought to Earl White, but now she understood he needed to be dealt with. Lila assumed they wouldn’t let him live, unless he’d managed to escape. The idea had dread racing up her spine so she pushed it aside. Perhaps later, when the dust settled, guilt and shame for her part in the retaliation would come, but now, with the taste of terror still lingering, in her mouth she wanted him to pay.

  “A live body. He held us in a house, very close to the gym actually, only one about a mile down on Turtle Rock Way.”

  Jester nodded. “I know where that is.”

  “When we left he was handcuffed to a bed, unconscious, but I think alive.”

  Jester dug out his phone and relayed the information to someone, instructing him to head to the house, pick up the motherfucker, and stash him at the warehouse. The warehouse? Was that the building she’d gone to with Striker some months ago when Kenny had been stabbed? It felt like a lifetime had passed since then.

  Jester hung up and took his eyes off the road for a beat to glance at her. “Hang in there, baby doll, we’ll be there in five. I hate to ask this, but were you raped, Lila?”

  The blunt question startled her. “Geez Jester, dive right in why don’t you. No, I wasn’t raped. Why did you assume that?”

  Glancing at her quickly he said, “You’re only wearing Striker’s sweatshirt, Doc.”

  She looked down, yet again having completely forgotten about her state of undress. No wonder she was freezing. “Shit, I keep forgetting.” She turned away, unable to meet Jester’s eye. “I, um, woke up handcuffed to a bed in my under things. He took off my clothes to torture Striker, but Striker said he didn’t…you know.” Her face flamed. It must have been beet red. Luckily it was dark in the car, and there was no way she would tell him how she came on to Earl to save them. She hadn’t processed that herself yet.

  “Good. Last thing for now, there’s no way to avoid cops getting wind of this after you two show up at the hospital. Tell them you don’t know who took you, act a little confused. Stall answering any other questions for now. We’ll come up a plausible story for you. Got me?”

  There was no point in playing dumb. This was how it was done in their world, a world she’d willingly joined. She’d play by their rules. “I got it.”

  They pulled up to the emergency room, and Jester jumped out of the car with orders for her to stay put until he got help. They made it. The world outside the car became fuzzy as Lila saw the ER doors whir open, and people rush toward the car. Certain that help had arrived for both Striker and her, Lila finally gave into the oblivion that had been threatening to pull her under.

  Striker did not come to slowly. He awoke with a jolt as his body was assaulted by pain, and his mind was flooded with terrifying memories. His eyes shot open and darted around the room immediately assessing for danger and seeking out Lila. Where the hell was she? Where was he? Had they made it to the gym?

  He struggled to sit up only to let out a groan when his ribs screamed in protest.

  “Easy there, brother. The docs did a lot of work to make sure your ass stayed alive, so don’t go fucking it all up.” Striker turned his head to the right with a start as Hook’s voice filled the room.

  Hook was seated in a vinyl recliner next to the head of Striker’s bed. He looked tired. How long had Hook been sitting there?

  Striker’s mouth felt like it had been blasted with hot, dry air for hours. “Lila?” he managed to grate out.

  “She’s safe brother. They kept her overnight to monitor her since she blacked out, but she’s in better shape than you are.”

  Striker closed his eyes and leaned back against the bed. The relief was staggering. He didn’t have a clue what was going on with his own body, but he was alive, and Hook didn’t look worried, so he figured he’d stay alive.

  “Listen, Striker. Now that you’re awake the cops will be in soon. We’re pinning all this shit on Rock. Blamed drugs, said he snatched Lila because we were kickin’ him out of the club. We busted up his house to make it look like it happened there, and we scoured the other house. Story is he snatched her after the fights. Lila was able to free herself and call you when he stepped out for a while. You came for her, fought with Rock, and rescued Lila. Rock took off.”

  It was a good story. No one would ever find Rock’s body, the Grimms would make sure of that. They could easily say he split to avoid the No Prisoners’ wrath after snatching Lila.

  “Your girl did good, man,” Hook continued. “She had the cops eating out of her hand. Stuck to the story beautifully. Jester stayed with her, acting all mamma bear.” He chuckled and shook his head. “Who knew he had such maternal instincts.”

  “She seem okay?” He didn’t mean physically.

  “Something ain’t right. That’s why Jest won’t leave her alone. Physically she’s busted up, but nothing serious. Something seems off emotionally. She’s real skittish.” Hook had questions in his eyes. The guys must be dying to know exactly what happened in that house.

  Striker closed his eyes as unpleasant memories assailed him. Lila had saved both their asses, but she’d paid for it. Watching her endure that pervert’s hands on her body sickened him. The shattered look on her beautiful face when she awoke and realized she wasn’t wearing any clothes was the same look she got when that piece of shit pawed at her. Striker knew it was a scene that would haunt his dreams for years. She was his woman. It was his job to protect her, and he’d been unable to do a damn thing beyond watch the horror unfold.

  Everything she’d said to Earl was bullshit, and he knew it. Not for one second did he think she was with him because she was trapped. But he knew her well, and she’d worry he now doubted her.

  Hook must have been growing impatient waiting for answers because he prodded Striker along. “She showed up at the gym wearing your hoodie, and not much else.”

  Striker swallowed down his disgust, and explained to Hook how Earl White ambushed them in the parking lot with his Taser, and filled him in on the rest of the story. When he got to the part where Lila saved them, he almost couldn’t get the words out.

  “You good, brother?” Hook asked.

  It was hard for Striker to look at Hook while he reiterated the tale. The feelings of anger and inadequacy were too great. He nodded, and continued the story, staring straight ahead.

  “Lila was fuckin’ incredible. She played him like a fuckin’ violin. Told him she was only with me out of fear, made him feel like her savior. He fell for it hard, and uncuffed her.” Striker paused. He needed a minute to get himself in check before he continued. For some reason saying it out loud was worse than reliving it in his head. “She gave him what he wanted. Came on to him, let him put his filthy hands all over her. When he was distracted, she sent his balls up to his tonsils.”

  He finished telling Hook the story, at least up until he passed out. By the time he finished Hook looked almost as irate as Striker felt.

  Eyes narrowed, lips pressed together in an expression of anger, and fists clenched, Hook leaned forward and spoke in a low voice. “He was still at the house. Gumby took some of the guys to check it out. They moved him to the warehouse. Prospects are babysitting him until you’re out of here.”

  Striker finally looked at him. Immense satisfaction welled inside him. He was surprised. He’d assumed Earl would have escaped somehow by the time anyone went back to check out the ho
use. This time around he would enjoy the moments spent with Earl. The same couldn’t be said for the other man however. In fact, Striker could guarantee Earl would not fare well in their next meeting.

  Hook leaned back in his chair. “Did some digging. You know how Acer is with computers. Not sure what he hacked, but turns out our buddy Earl has a naughty past. Multiple restraining orders against him. He was charged with kidnapping, rape, and the murder of a twenty-year-old girl three years ago in Mississippi. Case was open and shut. Some sort of error occurred during the trial, and a mistrial was declared. Bastard got off with nothing and moved here to start over.”

  “Jesus.” Striker ran a hand through his hair, possibly the only part of his body that wasn’t screaming in pain. He should probably take something for it, but wanted to be fully alert when he saw Lila.

  The conversation with Hook came to an abrupt halt when a sharp knock on the door grabbed their attention. Without waiting for an invitation the door opened, and Jester came through, pushing Lila in a wheelchair. She looked exhausted, dark rings rimmed each bloodshot eye. His heart squeezed painfully with the knowledge that he’d been unconscious while she dealt with the aftermath of their nightmare.

  She still wore his sweatshirt, but someone had given her a pair of scrub pants to cover up her exposed lower half. A bulky boot encased her right ankle, and he assumed that was the reason for the wheelchair. Her poor face was a colorful mess, and her neck looked raw and bruised as well. But she was alive, and she’d never looked more beautiful.

  Jester looked tired as well, and Striker was immensely grateful for his care of Lila. His loyal brother had stayed with her in his place the entire time.

  Hook rose and pushed his chair into the corner of the room so Jester could steer Lila right next to the bed. He lowered the bedrail so she could reach Striker. With a nod to Striker, he and Jester quietly left the room, allowing them a few moments of privacy. It wouldn’t last. The police would arrive any moment for his statement, and a nurse or doctor was bound to check in soon, but he was relieved to have a few minutes alone with her.

 

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