Bound (Soldiers of Darkness MC Book 3)

by Michelle Betham

  I narrow my eyes and shake my head. “I feel sorry for Izzi.”

  “Izzi knows what she married. She knows the way this shit works, and so do you, you ain’t no naïve mama so don’t pretend this is something you ain’t ever done before.”

  “You bastard…”

  He’s up in my face before I have a chance to do anything, so close I’m nervous he might actually guess I’m wearing a “wire”. And then remembering that that’s there, it suddenly calms me slightly, because that device is transmitting as well as recording. There are agents listening in to this conversation, Gabriel will know what’s happening here. But can he help me fix this? Can he do that? I’m scared now. I’m really fucking scared.

  “You listen to me, darlin’, and you listen good. You walked into my clubhouse and you made yourself at home, and that don’t always come with no strings attached. Jesus, come on, Skye, you fucking know that. So you are gonna keep Cole Rockwell happy, d’you hear me? You close your eyes, you pretend it’s Theo, pretend it’s anyone else sticking it to you but you will let him in, sweetheart. If that’s what he wants. Are we on the same page yet?”

  I hold his gaze and I say nothing. I wait a few long beats before I nod my head, and only then does he step back from me. Only then can I finally breathe.

  “You make yourself available, tonight. He’ll be here, because we need to sort out a few details before Thursday, and he’s expecting you to be here, too. And you’re gonna be all over him like cheap aftershave. You got that?”

  I give another nod.

  “Good. Now get outta here. And send Theo in, I need a word with him, too.”

  “Does Theo know? About this?”

  “He knows.”

  “Is he happy about it?”

  “What the fuck do I care if he’s happy or not? Just get outta here, all right?”

  I leave the chapel and head back into the clubhouse, back outside, and Theo’s still there, he’s still outside, and the second he sees me it’s all over his face. Yeah. He knows. And I don’t know why I do it because it isn’t his fault, but the slap I give him is so hard he reels back against the wall, and my arm tingles with the force of that slap but all I feel now is anger and fear and utter despair. Because this is where I am now. This is who I am, and I am so fucking scared.

  “Skye… please, come on…”

  “I don’t want to talk about it, Theo.”

  But he’s not giving up, he comes after me, and he grabs my arm and he swings me around and he makes me look at him. And this time his expression is full of nothing but pain and regret. He’s sorry, but it isn’t really his fault. Or maybe it is. I don’t know anymore.

  “I am so sorry, Skye. I tried to talk to Mack, but he said Cole…”

  “It’s OK, Theo. Really, it’s OK. I can do this. All right? I can do this.”

  “You shouldn’t have to,” he whispers, and then he pulls me into his arms and he holds me tight and I just cling onto him. I’m taking this brief moment of safety because it might be all I have left. “Jesus, this is so fucking wrong.”

  “It’s where we are now. We’re stuck in the middle of this shit and we can’t move forward, unless I do this.”

  He tucks a finger under my chin and his eyes lock with mine. “It’s sick, Skye.”

  “Yeah. It is. But it’s nothing I’ve not seen happen before.”

  “Jesus!” He throws back his head and lets out a long and heavy sigh. “Shit!”

  I stand up on tiptoes and I lightly kiss his cheek. “I can do this, Theo. For you, I can do this.”

  Gabriel

  Like fuck she’s doing it. I’m not letting an animal like Cole Rockwell touch her, that’s not fucking happening.

  “Get her out of there.”

  “What? Gabriel, Jesus, come on. We can’t do that.”

  “Get her the fuck out of there, Phil.”

  “You really want to jeopardize this whole operation, at this stage?”

  “Did you not hear what they’re making her do? Did you not fucking hear that shit?”

  “I heard it, but what can we do?”

  “You can get her the hell out of there.”

  “She’ll handle it, Gabriel.”

  I turn and punch the wall in frustration, resting my forehead against my arm as I try to compose myself. I’m losing it here, because last night – last night I let that woman get to me. She got under my skin, and what happened – shit! I crossed a line, and I can’t admit to that or I am done here.

  “Are you getting too close to this one, Gabe?”

  I swing around and glare at Phil. “You think that’s right? What they’re making her do?”

  “No, Jesus, of course I don’t think it’s right. It’s fucking barbaric. But like I said before, what the hell can we do? Huh? The whole thing could go up in smoke here, Gabriel, and we are this fucking close to nailing these bastards.”

  I lean back against the wall and I close my eyes and I try to breathe. But all I can see is her naked body, all I can hear are her gentle moans, all I can feel is her pussy gripping my cock tight as we fucked and kissed and blurred those lines that should never, ever be crossed. Ever.

  “Gabriel?”

  I open my eyes and I sigh again, dragging a hand back through my hair. “We have her covered 24/7. We have that clubhouse watched, I want someone outside the house, I want her monitored and tracked every second of every fucking day until we can finally get her out of there.”

  “Already on it.”

  I sit down and drop my head into my hands.

  I need to see her. For every wrong reason, I need to see her.

  And I can’t do that. I shouldn’t, do that.

  But I’m going to do it anyway.

  Chapter Nine

  Skye

  I let the warm water rain down over my skin, but it isn’t washing away the guilt or the fear. I feel dirty and used and he hasn’t even touched me yet. Cole Rockwell. The man I have to let fuck me, if that’s what he wants, or everything Mack and Theo have worked for – hell, that’s probably gone anyway. It’s over. They just don’t know that yet. But everything I’ve had to do here, all the lies and the betrayal – if I put this job in jeopardy, all the shit I’ve had to endure, it’ll all have been for nothing. And if that happens; if the FBI don’t get what I was supposed to deliver, what happens to me then? Does that deal we made just turn to dust? So, this is something I need to do for me. For Gabriel. And yet Theo, he thinks I’m doing it for him. There’s a tiny part of me wishes I was.

  Stepping out of the shower I grab a towel and wrap it around myself, running my fingers through my damp hair as I look in the mirror. I don’t think I’m anything special. Not really. People used to say I had pretty eyes, and maybe they are my best feature, but I don’t consider myself to be beautiful. I’m OK, but I don’t think I’m beautiful. So why does Cole Rockwell want me so much? When there are so many other women he could have, women who choose to see past his grimy exterior simply because he’s president of one of the most important MCs in the area. Women who would drop their panties at the click of his fingers. Or does he get off on the challenge of taking a woman who really doesn’t want him at all?

  A noise outside startles me, and I leave the bathroom and head slowly out into the hallway, a knot of fear suddenly forming in my belly. And then I hear the front door open and close, and that fear intensifies, and I grab the first heavy object I can find and I press myself up against the wall, peering carefully around the corner, readying myself to pounce on whoever it is who thinks it’s OK to come into my space uninvited.

  “Skye?”

  His voice makes me drop my head, and the vase I’d picked up from the table outside the bedroom slips from my fingers and I watch as it falls to the ground, shattering the second it hits the wooden flooring.

  “Skye? You all right?”

  Gabriel almost throws himself around the corner, stopping in his tracks when he sees me.

  “I was gonna hit you with
that,” I say, my gaze still focused on the shards of broken china. And then I look back up and my eyes meet his. “What the hell are you doing letting yourself in like that?”

  “This is government property, Skye. I can do what I like.”

  “That seems to be a running trend around here at the minute. And what if Theo had seen you?”

  “Theo’s not in. He’s already at the clubhouse. I know what I’m doing, Skye, OK?” He takes my hands and turns them over, checking them for cuts. “You all right?”

  “No thanks to you. What are you doing here?”

  “Where’s your necklace?”

  “It’s on the nightstand in the bedroom. I always take it off when I shower...”

  He doesn’t wait for me to finish that sentence. He pushes me back against the wall and he kisses me; an urgent, almost desperate kiss, and it takes me a little by surprise, but barely a heartbeat passes before I respond; before I slide a hand around the back of his neck and pull him down for a longer, deeper kiss that we both relax into like it’s the most natural thing in the world. But it isn’t. It’s wrong.

  “I had to see you,” he whispers as his fingers slip between mine, squeezing them tight. “I heard what they want you to do, Skye, and I had to see you.”

  “I have to do it, Gabriel.”

  He closes his eyes and bows his head and his fingers squeeze mine tighter still. “I know.”

  “It’ll be OK.”

  He shakes his head and backs away from me, digging his hands into his pockets. “None of this is OK, Skye. What they’re planning to do, that’s not OK. What they want you to do, that’s not OK…” He trails off and he drops his gaze but I know what he was going to say next.

  “Me and you, we’re not OK either, are we?”

  He raises his head and again his eyes meet mine. “We can’t, Skye. No matter how much I want it to happen I can’t… I can’t have you. Not in the way…” He drops his gaze again, and I feel a pull on my heart I can’t afford to be feeling, not now. Not tonight. “Not in the way I want you.”

  I close my eyes and I keep them shut because I can feel hot, uninvited tears starting to build up and this is not the time for me to be falling apart. I can’t do that. I don’t do that. So why am I doing it now?

  “Skye…”

  He reaches out and he cups my cheek and he leans in to kiss away those stray tears that have already fallen, and I pull him closer by his shirt collar and I kiss him again. I want to kiss him. I need to kiss him. I need to feel him, touch him, before I have to let him go. And he gets that, he understands what this is; all it can ever be. And he pulls away my towel and his fingers trail over my naked skin, and I shiver as he palms my nipples, one then the other; as he drops a hand and slides it between my legs and I open them a little further, inviting him inside.

  His mouth touches mine as his fingers enter me, pushing into me gently, thrusting slowly, and I moan into him, my mouth still resting against his. I had no idea how much I really needed him until now, until he let himself into my temporary home and invaded my body in the most beautiful way, before he has to let me go; before I have to let Cole Rockwell invade my body in the worst way, the sickest way possible.

  He finds my clit, and he rotates his thumb against it so lightly I can’t stop the gasp escaping. And his fingers are still fucking me slowly, thrusting deeper, and as I feel every nerve ending start to respond I bite down on my lip, I’m ready. And as he presses against my clit one more time; as his fingers thrust as deep as they can go that wave hits me like a speeding truck, slamming into me as I almost collapse against him, crying out his name as he continues to touch me and kiss me and hold me tight. But he isn’t done, it’s not over. He pulls his fingers out and he kisses me hard, and I’m still trying to catch my breath as he turns me around so I face the wall. And he’s up against me, his fingers sliding back between mine as his cock slams into me with a force that quite literally takes my breath away. He pulls my hips back against him and I take him inside as far as I can, I want to feel every inch of him, this man who’s giving me a chance of freedom. This man who’s going to give me a new life. He just can’t be a part of it.

  His breath’s warm against the back of my neck as his hand splays out over my stomach, and I push back against him harder still as he thrusts deeper and I feel him pause, just for a second, before he explodes inside of me. And as he comes his fingers dig into the flesh of my stomach, his breath quickens against the back of my neck as he holds me, and I close my eyes and bank every second, every thrust, every breath he takes. And when he’s done he stays inside me; he holds me close and he rests his forehead against the back of my neck as he tries to catch his breath. I reach back and slide my fingers into his hair, throwing back my head as he starts to cover my shoulders in light, tiny kisses that send more shivers racing up and down my spine. And then I feel him pull out, and he turns me around and he kisses me, and I hold him like my world is going to end if I let him go. And then I remember that that’s exactly what’s going to happen. I have to let him go. And my world is going to end.

  “I’m so sorry, baby. That you have to do this shit. That I have to send you out there, to do this shit.”

  “It’s OK,” I whisper, and I smile slightly as I gently stroke his cheek. “It’s OK. You’ll have people listening in tonight, right? People close by?”

  He nods, and he squeezes my hand so tight he almost cuts off the blood supply. “I wanted to pull you out of this, Skye, believe me, I did. But I can’t. If I do that…”

  “This all turns to crap. I know. I know that.”

  “If this doesn’t work, if we don’t finish this job…”

  “The deal’s off. I know that, too.”

  He closes his eyes and bows his head, and the sigh he gives is so heavy and hard. “It’s such a fucking mess.”

  “It was never going be anything else, Gabriel.”

  He raises his gaze and his eyes meet mine. “You can handle him, Skye. You hear me? You can handle that low-down piece of shit because, believe me, baby, he’s gonna get what’s coming to him. He’ll pay for this, and every other ounce of crap he’s put people through. But you – you can handle him, OK?”

  It’s difficult to know whether he’s trying to reassure me or himself, but I nod, I tell him what he wants to hear. Yeah, I probably can handle Cole Rockwell. I just wish I didn’t have to.

  “I’ve got to go now, Skye.”

  “I know,” I whisper, yet I’m reluctant to loosen my grip on him.

  “But I’m gonna be right there with you, you understand that? You think of me, and you get through that crap and in a couple of days this will all be over, I promise.”

  “Don’t make me promises, Gabriel. Please don’t do that.”

  “Look at me, Skye. Look at me.”

  I try to keep my head down but he tucks a finger under my chin and he makes me look at him.

  “I promise, OK?”

  “OK.”

  He kisses me again, and for a second I pretend that everything’s normal; that we’re normal, that we’re just an ordinary couple instead of an FBI handler and his informant. He kisses me, and then he turns and walks away without looking back. And I close my eyes and take a series of long, deep breaths because my heart is beating so fast it’s almost out of control, it hurts. I’ve got a job to do now, whether I like it or not. And I don’t like it. But as I’m growing all too used to realizing now, I don’t have a choice.

  I pick up my towel and wrap it back around myself as I head into the bedroom. I should get dressed, start making my way to the clubhouse. But just thinking about what’s going to happen when I get there makes me feel sick to my stomach, and it’s getting harder to keep the nausea down.

  I pull the towel away and I look at my reflection in the full-length mirror by the bed. Do I look different? When he touches me? I feel different. I feel like I could walk away from all this shit and never look back, as long as he was with me. But that can never happen.


  I trail my fingers lightly over my skin, watching their journey down across the curve of my waist and I touch myself, and I gasp as I remember his fingers touching me; inside me. If I close my eyes I can still feel him, and I breathe in deep and I can smell him on my skin. And that has to go. I have to shower again, rid myself of all traces of Gabriel.

  It’s a quick shower, and I hated every second of scrubbing him off of me because I didn’t want him to go. But he had to. He had to go.

  I grab a fresh towel and wrap it around myself and I go back into the bedroom, I need to get a move on now. I need to be there, at the clubhouse, or Mack’s going to think I’ve bottled out. And as much as I want to do that, I can’t. But I need a drink first, before I do anything. So I go into the kitchen, find a fresh bottle of bourbon and I open it, taking a swig straight from the bottle before I head back into the bedroom.

  “Well, if it ain’t our pretty little FBI informant.”

  His voice smacks into me with an horrific realization. This man is in my home. He’s standing there, leaning back against the wall, and he’s holding his hand up, and I can just make out the tiny thumb drive there on the end of his finger. He’s destroyed it, of course he has, and I have never felt a fear like it. I can’t breathe, my throat is so tight it’s terrifying.

  “How the hell did you get in here?”

  “Well, y’see, darlin’, I waited ‘til you and your outta line handler stopped fucking each other like two dogs on freakin’ heat…” He looks at me, and a smirk crosses his face that makes me want to throw up. “Oh, I saw you, through that window there. You really should be more careful, sugar, I mean, he could get into a whole world of trouble if his law enforcement friends find out what he’s doing to you.”