Evil's Price: Devil's Outlaws MC (Book One) (Dark MC Romance)

by Raven Dark

  Kneeling on the carpet in Spider’s bedroom, this is exactly how I feel now. I can’t move, can’t think about anything but what he’d just did. Shell shock locks my brain down, blocking out all else.

  True, what Spider did doesn’t hold a candle to what Sarah went through. He didn’t hurt me. I won’t have nightmares for the rest of my life or be haunted by the feel of him taking my mouth. He could have done something much worse. I’m lucky he didn’t.

  But still. What happened here did leave a scar of sorts. It left a taint on my soul I will never be able to wash away. It changed me. I will never be the person I was before he took me here.

  As with that incident in the Colony, I’m shaking with adrenaline. Anger and indignation burn in my veins like fire. Helplessness seizes me in a stranglehold. And that same awareness sets in—I’m trapped in a situation that, if I don’t escape, is going to get a lot worse.

  I close my eyes, but it doesn’t shut out the image of the lust in Spider’s eyes as he pushed himself into my mouth. It doesn’t block out the feel of his hands trapping my head like vises as he took his pleasure.

  In the Colony, I’d hated myself for not stopping what they’d done to my friend. I hadn’t saved her from the horror of what she’d endured. Here and now, that same self-loathing over my inaction sets in, eating at my insides like acid.

  Only this time I hate myself for a different reason. I hate myself because I didn’t stop Spider from taking my mouth the way a husband takes his wife.

  I should have been able to. How, I don’t know, but I should have.

  Pushing to my feet, I look around the room, groping for my next move, for a plan. Men’s voices drift from the barroom down the hall, and from the rooms near this one. I won’t be getting out that way.

  My fists clench. No way would Sarah have let this happen if she were in my shoes. She’d have grabbed that gun. She’d have threatened him into getting her out of here. Maybe she wouldn’t have shot him, but she’d have done something.

  Lord, she wouldn’t have let him get her on that bike at all.

  I need to find her. I need to know that she’s okay.

  If the Colony has her again…

  I shiver. They can’t have found her.

  Letting the need to locate Sarah fuel my resolve to escape, I push my hand through my curls, thinking hard for a plan. A plan that doesn’t involve Spider catching me and then doing something a lot worse than what he’s already done.

  Guilt crawls its way slowly beneath my skin at the memory of what just happened between us. Oh, but how much easier would it be if I only felt guilty because I didn’t stop him?

  That same need I’d felt while he was stroking my sex with his fingers is still there. It’s a lot less intense, but it’s strong enough that I squeeze my thighs together in an effort to relieve it.

  It doesn’t work.

  I growl under my breath and force myself to shake off the last few moments. It happened. It can’t be undone. I’ll book the one-way ticket to hellfire and damnation later. For now, I need to focus on the present. On getting out of here before he comes back and does who knows what to me.

  Throat dry, I swallow. The taste of him still coats my tongue, masculine and rich and as toxic as poison.

  I make my way to his bathroom and flick on the light to wash out my mouth. In the doorway, I freeze, staring at the back wall of his bathtub.

  The shower curtain is pulled aside, leaving a window clearly visible.

  A window that’s large enough for me to squeeze through. It would be a tight fit, but I could do it.

  My pulse speeds up. The window is probably locked; he wouldn’t make things that easy for me, but if I could get it open…

  I race to the bath and climb in. The window is one of those frosted panes of glass that makes it difficult to see through, so with bated breath, I push the pane sideways. It’s heavy and slides slowly aside. I peer through the window into the moonlit night.

  Light from the back of the tavern makes it easy to see across the rear property. Sand baked hard by the sun stretches up to a hill a few hundred feet away. Fifty feet from the back wall, men and a handful of women are gathered around two of the bikers who look like they’re in the middle of a fight.

  The fight looks like one of those boxing matches I saw on television at the job I’d worked before I started at The Devil’s Den, only without the ring and gloves. The crowd chants and cheers the two men on while they take swings at each other.

  My heart plummets.

  If I climbed out the window, the ground is less than five feet down, but I wouldn’t get more than a few feet across the sand before someone saw me. And if they did, they’d probably drag me right back to Spider, wherever he is.

  Worse, even if I did escape without being caught, how far would I get on my own? I have no idea what’s beyond that hill. A short distance from the fighters, there’s only a tall, bare tree with a few branches reaching out into the night like the fingers of a giant, gnarled hand. There’s nowhere to hide, only more sand, and that hill.

  It could be miles before I reached a house or a store. Miles, out there in the heat with no water or food.

  People have died going out into the desert without taking the proper precautions. And when daylight comes and the sun is up, it’ll be even more dangerous.

  Shoving the window shut, I turn and lean against it, letting my head drop against the glass. No escaping that way, either, at least not now.

  Like it or not, I’m not getting out of here tonight. Until I find a better way, I’m stuck here.

  Despair settles over me, heavy and crushing.

  Anger with Spider rises up, and I let it burn away the demoralized feeling that tries to drag me under.

  I can’t believe I worked so hard to get out of the Colony only to end up here. And all because of one stupid decision.

  My fists clench. I won’t let Spider destroy my life. I won’t let him ruin everything I’ve worked so hard for.

  There has to be a way out. The opportunity will come.

  And when it does, I’ll be ready for it.

  6

  A Bad Day

  As soon as the door to my room clicks shut, I pause, listening.

  There’s no sound from inside.

  No footsteps. No muttering under her breath like she always does when she’s pissed.

  Has she even moved?

  A twisted hope that her stillness is because of me burns in the back of my throat. I picture her in there on her knees, holding her breath while she waits until I’m gone.

  No. She’s too strong for that.

  I bring my fingers to my nose and inhale the musky scent of her pussy that still lingers there. My dick goes as solid as a steel spike.

  Patting my cut where her panties bulge from the inside pocket, I smile, cocking my head toward the door until I hear her move across the room to the bathroom.

  Good girl. If she broke that easily, if she fell apart from my skull fucking her, I’d be disappointed. I want the challenge of wearing her down, truly making her mine on every level. I need it.

  Still, I’d give anything to be a damned fly on the wall and see what she’s doing in there. Would she shower? Would she try to wash off the stain I’ve left on her soul?

  I hear water running in the sink. She’s probably washing my come out of that little mouth. Damn. I should have sent her to bed without letting her do that.

  I should get Rat to put a camera in my room. No, two of them. One above my bed, so I can watch what I do to her there whenever I want, and another in the bathroom. Right in the shower. Rat would know how to set it up so I can watch the feed on my phone.

  A smile spreads over my face.

  When did I become such a sick fuck?

  My phone buzzes and I pull it out, looking at the screen.

  It’s the same guy who messaged me before I left her, the Sergeant At Arms for the Satan’s Bastards MC.

  Gunner: Got what you’re looking for. Ricky
’s. 2 hrs.

  While it pisses me off that he thinks he can change things on me and expect me to obey him like a lapdog, there’s a larger concern.

  Ricky’s isn’t our usual meeting place. I don’t know it as well as I know The Red Crow, which puts me at a disadvantage. Reading the text again, suspicion makes my skin prickle. Considering the history between our clubs, I wouldn’t put it past anyone with a Satan’s Bastards patch to use this exchange as a trap.

  I shove the phone into my cut pocket and head for the prez’s office. Whether or not something is off, a meeting with Gunner means a talk with my commander in chief.

  Dragon’s office is at the end of the hall, away from the rest of the clubhouse. Everyone knows not to come down here unless it’s for a meeting with him.

  At the office, I rap my knuckles on the closed door. “Prez? You in there?”

  “Nope.” Dragon’s voice drifts out.

  Smartass.

  “Need to talk,” I tell him. He knows I wouldn’t press him unless it was important, but no one walks in on him uninvited. Not even his officers.

  “Come in.”

  I push open the door.

  Dragon sits on a leather couch that’s pushed up against the wall. He’s pulling a dark T-shirt down over his front, but not fast enough that I miss the bruises that cover his stomach. He also has a black eye that’s already turning purple. Tequila kneels on the floor at his feet, pressing an ice pack to his eye.

  Tequila might be a club girl, but she was a medic before she joined us, and she’s the only person he’d let near him when he’s hurt.

  “What the fuck happened?” I shut the door behind me.

  “Stop fussing, woman, I don’t need that.” He pushes the compress into her hand.

  “That has to hurt,” she says softly, pushing his dark hair out of his eyes tenderly. “You need to get that swelling down, baby.”

  “There are more fun ways to deal with pain.” He leans back on the couch and pats his knees. “Sit yourself right here, sweet thing.”

  I snort, and when Dragon raises a brow at me, I clear my throat.

  Tequila’s cheeks turn almost as red as my Wildcat’s do when I talk about fucking her. My cock stirs at the unwelcome reminder of the thief waiting in my room.

  Shit, is this how it’s going to be? She eats my come once and now every little thing makes me think of her? I need to get that woman out of my system fast.

  Offering me a shy smile, Tequila gets up and slips off her strip of a skirt and top, leaving behind only a thong and lacy bra.

  With all those dark curls and toned body, she’s hot, but she isn’t my Wildcat.

  Shit. What the fuck has she done to me?

  Dragon doesn’t answer my question, all his attention on Tequila. He’s fucking with me.

  I cross the room to his personal bar and pour myself a whiskey, content to play his game for a minute.

  “Help yourself, asshole,” Dragon says, watching me while Tequila kisses his neck and grinds into him.

  “Thanks, I will.” I down the shot and set the glass on the bar.

  “All right, sweet thing, get gone.” He swats her ass. “Let the men talk.”

  She lets out a tiny squeal at the swat. Tequila climbs off of him, her cheeks dark red again. She hands him the ice pack. “Use this. It’ll feel better.”

  “No.” He strokes her pussy through her thong. “Give me a kiss and get out.”

  “Is he always this stubborn?” she asks me, cocking her head.

  I grin. “No. He’s usually worse.”

  She shakes her head at him, but lays a hand on his cheek and then gives him a long kiss. Then she gathers up her clothes.

  “Later, Spidy.” She leaves, shutting the door behind her.

  I pour myself another shot and sit on the couch across from him. “She’s into you, you know.”

  He gets up, snatches the shot from me and downs it. I notice the barest wince when he moves. When he’d lifted his arm to toss the drink back, I saw the dark bruising his cut and tee were hiding on his torso.

  “Must be my winning charm.” His tone is thick with sarcasm.

  “You don’t see it, man?”

  He twirls the whiskey glass and looks at me.

  “Come on. She jumps at the chance to get near you. And she doesn’t blush like that for anyone else. She’s had a thing for you from minute one.”

  “Nah. Her pussy’s just wet for Prez meat. Every new club whore thinks riding my dick will get them the keys to the kingdom.”

  It’s hilarious the way everyone sees how into him she is except for Dragon.

  “So what happened with you and Diesel last night?” I ask him.

  Dragon returns to the couch, pushing his hand through his thick hair. “Penny’s is mixed up with that jackwad again. He broke into her house and gave her a couple of shiners even worse than this.” He points to his swollen eye.

  “Shit.” I run my palms down my face.

  Penny is one of Dragon’s closest friends. They grew up next door to each other. She’s also Diesel’s ex-wife. They divorced a few years ago, and she remarried. I think his name is Gary or something. When he started beating on her, she ran, cutting ties with us when she went to ground. We’d all been hoping Diesel would find her again. Guess Gary found her first and paid her back for bailing on his ass.

  Hell of a birthday present for Diesel. I clench my fists until my knuckles crack. I spent half my life watching my mother go in and out of the hospital because she couldn’t get away from my dad’s fists. Guys like Gary deserve to be strung up and shot.

  Yeah, they tend to bring out the monster in me.

  “She’ll be fine, but she’s in the hospital with a concussion,” Dragon says.

  “Tell me this asshole is rotting six feet under.”

  “Not yet, but he will be. We went to take care of him last night, but he’s in the wind. A bunch of his friends were at his house, so we handed his friends’ asses to them and sent good old Gary a nice little message.”

  I smile. “What did you do?”

  “I sent one of his buddy’s hands to him. Rat’s watching his house now, waiting for him to come home and find it.”

  “Give me a call when he shows. I’ll break Gary’s hands and cut off his balls before Diesel blows his head off.”

  Dragon’s mouth turns up. “I forgot how bloodthirsty you can be.” He sits back. “What did you want, anyway?”

  He hasn’t asked about Stephanie, but he will.

  “Got a text from Gunner,” I tell him. “Shipment’s in.”

  “Perfect. Our buyer’s been waiting for those guns for weeks already.”

  “I know. But might be a problem. Gunner doesn’t want to meet at our usual place.”

  Dragon leans forward. “Where?”

  “Ricky’s. In two hours. He was being a pushy little bitch about it, and he knows I’d be out of my element there.”

  “You think the Bastards are setting us up for something?”

  “Could be. If he was looking to shake me down, you’d think he would want to meet at night, but with those guys, you never know.”

  “Right.” Dragon strokes his thick beard. “All right. Take Striker and Reaper with you, and a couple of the others. If Gunner’s looking to ambush you, you’ll be ready.”

  “Done.” I start to get up.

  “Hold it. One more thing.”

  I ease back down into the seat, not liking the close way he’s watching me now.

  “Tell me about the thief.”

  And there it is.

  I lean back on the couch, arms across the backrest. “Nothing to tell. She tried to steal from us, I took care of it, end of story.”

  Dragon leans forward again with obvious interest. “Took care of it how? The guys said you took her to your room instead of killing her.”

  This conversation isn’t going the way it should at all.

  I shrug. “It’s more fun to take it out of her ass than to put a bul
let in her brain.”

  Dragon nods a little too slowly. “Are you sure that’s all it is?”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “I mean, I heard she’s a looker. I hope you’re not going soft on us because of a pretty face and a tight pussy. You’re usually an iceman. Lot going on right now with the Bastards truce on shaky ground. Now would be a piss-poor time for you to thaw out and lose your dick.”

  He thinks I’m going soft. Time to shut that shit down.

  I lean forward. “Have I ever taken my eye off the endgame, Prez?”

  Dragon puts up his hand and nods. “As long as you keep doing what you’re doing, we’re good. Just don’t let her get under your skin.”

  “Not gonna happen.”

  “Good to hear. All right, get the fuck out.”

  I snort and go to the door.

  “Spider.”

  I turn. “Yeah, Prez.”

  “Watch your back with Gunner.”

  “Always.”

  Closing his office door, I shake my head. Dragon may think I’m losing my edge, but I meant what I said. No woman has ever gotten under my skin, and the little thief waiting in my bedroom won’t change that.

  I pull up in front of Ricky’s almost an hour later. It’s almost seven, and grey early morning light cuts across the back-alley street. Gunner gains a point for setting the exchange up when it’s already getting light out. Darkness would make it easier to take us by surprise if he was looking to make trouble.

  There are only three motorcycles parked in the front lot, but I’m not letting down my guard. Ricky’s has a rear lot. There could be a dozen bikes back there, with an army of Satan’s Bastards waiting inside to ambush us. And it getting light out doesn’t mean he’s going to play nice.

  See, that’s the thing about The Red Crow. Not only do I know a lot of the people who hang out there, and I’ve scoped out all the entrances, but I have an arrangement with the owner. Any of his bartenders will tell me if anyone’s showed who might cause a problem. I have no such advantages here.

  The four men I’ve taken with me, Striker, Reaper, Cap and Pip, pull up at my left and right. Striker pulls up in a black van that has more than enough room in the back for the guns we’re here to collect.