by Marie James
I almost stumble back when I open my door and see fucking Detective Martin standing on my stoop with her arm raised to knock. She’s not in a uniform, but the bulge of her gun on her hip doesn’t go unnoticed.
“Didn’t I tell you not to show up here?” I shove past her and take the steps two at a time to get to my car. I think better of it when I remember I just took several huge slugs of liquor, and I’m paranoid she smelled it on my breath when I passed her. Getting thrown in jail will derail my plans, so I pull out my phone and click on the Uber app. The party I’m attending tonight is only about a mile away, but there’s no way I’m making that trek in these heels.
Her hand covers my phone before I can go any further.
“McGee asked me to bring you in.”
Just the mention of the asshole detective makes my stomach twist in knots and my pulse rate double.
“What the hell does he want?”
If Detective Martin hears the waver in my voice she doesn’t let on.
“Just has a couple more questions for you. Jump in, I’ll give you a ride.”
“I have my own car.”
“Save your gas.” She turns to her car, not bothering to make sure I follow her. In this instant I hate my upbringing, and the forced respect that was drilled in to me.
Don’t be rude to police, reporters, or people who have money. My mother’s words were drilled into my head as a child, no doubt an echo of what my father had expected of her.
The expensive watch on Deo’s arm was the only reason I didn’t walk away from him immediately on the beach that day. My politician father would’ve tanned my hide if I embarrassed him by insulting a possible constituent. It didn’t matter that we were thousands of miles away from home and Deo’s accent didn’t sound anything like the other men who voted for my father, his training took over. He spoke to me, so I spoke to him. Somehow, he’d managed to get me to walk toward the parking lot without even knowing it. Seconds later I was being tossed in the back of a van and whisked away to almost a year of torture.
Martin clears her throat and snaps me out of my fucked-up trip down memory lane.
Just to be an asshole, I walk past the passenger side door she’s holding open and climb into the back. She chuckles but closes the passenger door before rounding the front of the cop car and climbing in behind the wheel.
The first couple of minutes are spent in blessed silence, but true to form, she can’t manage to ride all the way to the police station with her damn mouth shut.
Feeling her eyes on me, I make the mistake of looking up and catching her gaze in the rearview mirror.
“You look much better than you did last time I saw you.”
I break eye contact and look out the window without responding, much the same way I did when she showed up and questioned all the bruises on my body.
“Where are you heading tonight?”
I don’t say a single damn word, but for some reason, Martin is grinning like a crazy person when she opens the back door to let me out once we arrive at the station.
“Do you know how long this is going to take?”
“Now you want to talk?” She shakes her head as we walk up the short sidewalk into the front of the police station. “I’d suggest keeping that mouth shut a little longer.”
I look over at her, certain I didn’t hear her right, but she’s already walking away.
“Ms. Stewart.”
Goosebumps form on my arms at Detective McGee’s voice. When I turn my head to look at him my hands begin to tremble. There’s just something about this fucking creep that sets off all sorts of warning bells, and I’m fairly certain none of them have to do with the fact that he’s a cop.
My jaw snaps shut as he ushers me down the same hallway I walked weeks ago. I regret my choice of clothes, because even the blanket I had wrapped around me then covered more than my halter top and short skirt do tonight.
He doesn’t speak at first. He just waves his hand, indicating a hard-plastic chair on the other side of an economical table. It’s almost like he’s looking through me, cataloging and analyzing everything that has happened since I left the station over a month ago. I immediately hate the sins TJ confessed to me.
“Tell me about the biker,” he demands as if he’s reading my mind. I don’t respond, but he isn’t deterred. “The one that’s been coming and going from your place like he lives there? The Ravens Ruin MC is full of some scary guys. With your background, I’d think you’d avoid guys like that. Are they hurting you? Threatening you?”
I shake my head immediately.
“Then care to explain?”
I shrug, suddenly exhausted that everyone thinks they know my fucking story.
“Did you break up? I have reports that he hasn’t been seen there in the last week or so.” My nails suddenly become the most interesting thing in the world. “Several people at that party recall seeing a couple of scary guys go upstairs that night. Did your boyfriend get upset you were planning a little orgy without him and kill those guys?”
I pick at my new nail polish and bite the inside of my cheek but ignoring this piece of shit cop isn’t possible.
I finally look up at him. “You seem to be forgetting that one of those guys drugged me that night. I doubt I was in that room with them because they wanted to make sure I was safe from harm.”
“So you don’t care they were murdered, their bodies ripped to pieces only a couple of feet from your unconscious body?”
His ears are beginning to turn red, and it’s clear he’s barely holding onto his anger.
“Not even a little bit,” I lie, because I do care some. I put them in that situation, but at the same time I also know that if it wasn’t me, it would’ve been someone else. “Are you charging me with something? If not, I’m leaving.”
“Sit down,” he growls when I move to get up. “I’m going to tell you a little story.”
Chapter 24
TJ
“You should’ve been here,” Legs coos in my ear. I hate that she’s right on top of me, but I also haven’t bothered to push her away. “We learned tons of new self-defense techniques.”
“False,” Ronan says with a wide grin. “You stopped fighting the second Mac stuck that first finger in your ass.”
“True,” Mac adds from across the room. “I’ve never seen someone go from don’t do that to don’t stop so fast in my life.”
Everyone in hearing distance laughs at their antics, but I ignore the memories of how much Legs likes her ass fucked and take another sip of my beer. I’m nursing it, and I could lie to myself and say I’m just not in the mood to get drunk tonight, but I know where I’m heading. The same damn place I’ve headed every night for the last week, and the week before.
“We can go back to your room if you’re not feeling it out here.” Legs’s hand skates up my jean-clad thigh, and I don’t push her away at first but the closer she gets to my cock, the dirtier I feel. How fucked up is it that I have all of this willing pussy surrounding me, and they do nothing for me?
“Don’t fucking touch me,” I hiss when her too-long fingernails ghost over the zipper of my jeans.
Her head snaps back, and I fully understand her reaction. From the time she showed up here, she has been on my dick. Well, minus the hour or so she spent with my brother. I’m not the only guy she’s been with since arriving, but she’s been the one I’ve entertained most often the last couple of months. What Legs fails to realize is that almost every girl before her got the same amount of attention. I like pushing the girls I’m fucking, seeing how far I can take them and where their limits are. It’s impossible to do that without getting to know them first. I’m not like my dad. He’d go at it full-force with a brand-new girl, not giving a shit if he took things too far. In his mind, there was no such thing as too far. I’m nothing like that.
“You know,” Legs seethes beside me, “the next time you want to fuck—”
I glare at her over the top of my beer. “You’l
l stick your ass in the air exactly how I like.”
Her lip twitches, and I can’t tell if she’s trying not to smile or if she’s getting ready to snarl at me. It could go either way, honestly.
“Sweetheart,” Ronan, ever the hero, cups his hand under her jaw and turns her face toward him. “I’ve been thinking about this talented mouth of yours since I saw you licking Xena’s cunt earlier. Could I convince you to give me a little attention?”
The second Legs drops to her knees in front of Ronan, I’m off the couch and out the damn door.
“Where’s the fire?” As much as I want to plow past my brother and his woman, I respect the bastard. It has more to do with his help when I was younger and less to do with the fact that he’s now the club president.
“Just gonna go for a ride.” I keep walking further into the parking lot.
“On four wheels instead of two?” He angles his head at my hand on the door of the SUV.
Yanking my hand away like I touched fire, I look up at both of them. Lynch’s classic, who-gives-a-shit smile is in place, but there’s something about the eyebrow raise and small smirk playing at the corner of Zoe’s mouth that tells me I’m not as slick as I think I am. Bikers don’t choose to ride in a cage. We prefer the freedom of motorcycles for a reason, and it’s out of character for me to select the SUV rather than my bike.
“Be safe,” Lynch grunts.
Zoe winks at me before she lets her man turn her back in the direction of the clubhouse.
I hesitate for a long moment before unlocking the vehicle and climbing inside. For another couple of minutes, I sit inside before pressing the ignition switch. When I crank it and pull toward the gate, I let myself sit idle and talk to Pete and Sonic about absolutely nothing for ten minutes. It’s almost as if I’m trying to find something to keep me away from Andover tonight. My obsession with Kaci has gone too far. I’ve enjoyed her pussy melting on my tongue and sliding into her incredible body, but I should be immune to her by now.
Yet, every night I climb inside of this SUV and drive over to her apartment. Some nights I spend parked right in front of her place, daring her in my mind to open the fucking curtain and see me waiting down there. Most nights I park a few blocks away and hide in the shadows to stare up at her windows. I only started to do that because there have been more patrols near her house since they found the dead body in the dumpster a couple weeks ago.
I’m twenty miles outside of town when I get the first notification on my phone. My foot grows heavier on the gas pedal as I pick it up. Within minutes she’s stationary and another notification is sent, placing her right in the middle of the fucking police station. For a split second I wonder if she’s gone to them, finally spilling her guts and sharing all the things I confessed to her, but when I get to Andover and drive past her house, her car is still in the drive.
She’s on the move again by the time I get to the police station, so I sit across the street and wait for her to settle. She doesn’t go home like I hope. Her tracker stops at a house across town.
I should go home. She’s hell bent on putting herself in these situations. I’ve tried over the last damn month to get her to seek something different, something less violent, less likely to get her killed, but she seems determined to end up in a dumpster herself. Even as hard as I try, I may not be able to stop that from happening. I have duties back at the clubhouse. I can’t sit and watch her every second of every day.
My foot is tapping wildly on the floorboard for fifteen minutes before I give in and put the vehicle in drive. This is the last fucking time I exert any amount of energy on Kaci Fucking Stewart. I vow to myself that tonight is the very last night I will ever drive to Andover and wonder what kind of trouble she has gotten herself into. Knowing it’s my last trip, I park under a broken streetlight a few houses down from where her tracker indicates.
I strip out of my cut and aim for the trees beside the house. Only a couple drunk people can be seen on the porch, and as I approach, I realize this party is a lot tamer than the others she’s been to. Without missing a beat, I swing my body up into the tree at the far end of the house. Fewer people means I’ll be easily identified if I barrel through the front door, so I climb the tree until I’m close enough to jump on the small balcony.
The entry door lever is cheap, making it child’s play to break and gain access to the house. Thankfully the doors open up to an unoccupied upstairs den. The hallway leading to the staircase is lined with four doors. One is open revealing an empty room. Another is a bathroom. My pulse is pounding in my ears when I open one door, surprised to find it empty. The last door produces exactly what I think it will. Kaci is spread out on a bed, as some piece of shit lowers his head and swipes his tongue up her slit. It would be hot as fuck watching her get pleasured by another guy if it were something that she actually wanted. I don’t imagine she’s given him permission, seeing as she’s passed the fuck out.
The guy, probably stoned himself, doesn’t even notice the door open or me standing there glaring at him. I don’t have time to think or worry about my knife. I’m on him, snapping his neck in the blink of an eye. I feel cheated as I step over him and lean down to get closer to Kaci.
The scent of her pussy invades my nose, and if she were awake, I’d mount her right here and now.
“This shit ends today,” I grunt as I pull her skirt down to cover her cunt and scoop her in my arms.
Getting her out of that fucking house is harder than I expect. The climb down is ten times more difficult than the climb up empty-handed. The first scream happens as I am rounding the house and carrying Kaci to my SUV through the shadows. By the time I get her buckled and climbed inside myself, I can hear the sirens. The first flashes of red and blue appear just as I am turning off the road.
I drive out of Andover, not even bothering to stop by Kaci’s house. There isn’t a damn thing left of that life that she needs anyway.
Chapter 25
Kaci
My body jolts when I hear the slam of a door. Even before I open my eyes, I already know I’m not at home. A small smile plays at my lips as I take a mental inventory of my body.
The familiar headache is pounding in my skull, but other than lying in an uncomfortable position, I feel fine. The realization depresses and thrills me at the same time. A small beam of light pushes against my eyelids, forcing me to open them slightly to figure out where it’s coming from. A shadow descends a flight of stairs to my right, but it isn’t the unknown man walking toward me that makes my pulse skyrocket. I’m looking up at him from behind a metal grid. I’m caged, surrounded on all six sides by thick metal iron.
“Where am I?” I ask the man and get no response.
From the sun filtering in from up above him, I’m pretty certain I’m in a storm shelter, but they aren’t common in Massachusetts, so it terrifies me that I’ve been transported someplace different. Pine and bleach fill my nose as the guy draws closer. Bleach was only used in my previous abduction to clean up blood. My mouth dries in fear.
“Are you fucking kidding me?”
He doesn’t have an accent, but that doesn’t mean anything. Several Americans worked for Deo, and it wasn’t until I was rescued that I even knew I hadn’t left Honduras.
“Help me,” I beg, but my pleas evolve when he steps closer to the cage. “Don’t hurt me.”
A second man slowly makes his way down the stairs. With him blocking the light, it’s easier to see the first guy.
“I’m going to fucking kill him!” he roars before the familiarity of his leather vest sinks into my terrified brain.
“Wow,” the other guy mutters as he closes the distance between the bottom of the stairs and my imprisonment.
One of them reaches up and pulls on the light, and even though I try, I can’t keep my eyes from squinting. The two men stare down at me. One is lost in anger, but the other one smiles down at me like I’m a treat being offered to him. My eyes dart to his vest first, letting me know he’s Hornet, t
he road captain. The scowling guy is—
My eyes dart from his leather to his face. Green eyes stare back at me, and if TJ hadn’t mentioned Lynch was his brother, I never would’ve guessed they were related just by appearances. His complexion and hair are darker, nothing similar to TJ’s blonde hair and ice-blue eyes. Don’t get me wrong, he’s just as gorgeous—
I shake my head violently. I’ve been abducted. This guy’s looks are the last thing I need to concern myself with. Good looking doesn’t mean morally sound. Deo was incredibly handsome, but I’ve never met a more brutal man in my life.
“Please let me out.”
“Did you know anything about this?” Lynch ignores me, but points as he speaks with the other man.
Hornet chuckles and shakes his head. “Nope. I mean. I’m not surprised, but I didn’t have a clue.”
Not surprised? Does TJ do this often? Why does that thought make me jealous?
“I don’t want to be in here.” I look all over the cage for a door, and my disappointment grows when I see a huge lock through the latch.
“Do you know who she is?” This question comes from Hornet in a way that makes me think he does know who I am.
I’d fully expect Lynch to be the one informed on what TJ’s been doing. Not only is he the president, but he’s also his brother.
“Should I?” Lynch asks, his brow creasing.
“I think she’s the girl that got beat up in the garage last month.”
I don’t confirm or deny, because I don’t know which way would benefit me better.
Lynch could probably bite through steel with the tension forming in his jaw. In the next second, he tugs on the string to the light, and I’m once again encased in darkness.
“Please don’t go,” I beg, but they both turn and ascend the stairs without another word. The door slams shut, and silence surrounds me.
What have I gotten myself into?