by Nikki Groom
This makes me laugh even harder. Even with my gun at her head, she's standing her ground. “Turn left at the end of the road. Pull in three blocks down.”
“Bossy motherfucker,” she mutters under her breath.
“Just watch the road, sweetheart.” I push a little harder with the tip of the gun, reminding her who’s in charge.
She grits her teeth, and I’ll put money on it that she’s rolling her eyes at my order. What is it with chicks rolling their eyes? “Don’t call me sweetheart.”
“Oh,” I laugh. “I’ll call you whatever I want to call you because right now, sweetheart, your life is in my hands and you should be begging me to be good to you.”
“Beg? Beg you? Fuck you,” she spits, jerking her chin up.
“What’s your name?” I ask.
“Fuck you,” she replies, lifting her chin.
“You can do better than that. What’s your name?” I repeat, enjoying this back and forth but getting equally frustrated with her failure to comply.
“Mickey fucking mouse.”
This causes me to roar with laughter, which eases the gun from her temple, giving her the perfect opportunity to throw me off. She swerves the car sharply, and I struggle to keep a grip on her. I don’t want to shoot her, that’s not how this was supposed to work. But I do need to get her under control, under my control. “Pull over, stupid bitch.”
“Fuck you!” she says with a manic laugh.
The wheel hits the curb, and she sucks in a breath as the speed, combined with the angle we are veering at, causes the car to flip. The situation spins out of control before either of us can prepare, and the car violently twists and skids along the road on its hood with an ear piercing screech.
When it comes to a halt and the air around us is silent, I try to control the dizzying in my head and focus my eyes. Something hisses, making me jump, the radiator maybe. A trickle of blood runs down my cheek, so I wipe it away with my forearm, and as I turn my head, I see her. She’s been thrown into the shattered windshield, hair covering her face, her body lifeless and bloody. “Shit,” I hiss. I want to call her name to see if she can hear me, but I don’t even know her fucking name. “Raven,” I say, hoping that just the sound of my voice, any voice, will bring her back to consciousness. “Raven, can you hear me?” With the car still on its hood, I squeeze between the seats and into the front of the car, pulling her into my arms as best I can and brushing her hair back from her face. “Wake up. Wake the fuck up.” I shake her, trying to rouse her and a breath shudders through her chest followed by a groan as she tries to force her consciousness to the surface. We’re cramped down tight in a smashed up, flat packed, upside down Camaro, with little to no room to breathe, let alone move, and I know I have to get out of here. I slide my cell from my back pocket, and as I press the button, the screen lights up our surroundings, highlighting smashed glass and blood splattered around the car. Seeing blood doesn’t bother me, I’ve seen enough of it in huge quantities a hundred times over, so it’s nothing new. But this is different. I don’t have enough space around me to see where or how badly she’s hurt.
Fuck.
“Tex,” I call out desperately as he answers my call. “Get your ass out here. Three blocks down from old boy Donny’s place. Got a flipped fucking car and a semi-conscious girl who’s covered in blood. Shit.”
“I’ll bring the truck,” he answers without hesitation.
“Yeah, bro.” I need this mess cleared right now, if her shots didn’t attract any attention, the crash just might have, and the sheriff will be sniffing around in no time for sure. “Need it all gone, no trace.” If she’d just left well alone, I would have sorted Donny out, and I would have my money and more importantly the info on The Wolves that I needed.
“On my way, boss.” Tex isn’t officially my right-hand man, but I rely on him for everything. Other than my blood brother, Ruck, he’s the most loyal, dependable person in my life.
The girl gasps and starts to panic, trying to sit up, disoriented, hurt, and fighting like a cornered animal. “You’re hurt, just chill the fuck out.”
Great, just what I need, claws coming at me from a fucking wildcat.
“Get off me,” she yells, flinging her arms, her eyes wide and frightened. “Get the fuck off me.”
“Look, we are upside down in a flipped car, you need to shut the fuck up and keep still for—”
The heel of her hand stops me in mid flow as it comes flying into my nose with a crack. “Get the fuck away from me you fucking psycho,” she screeches as she starts to kick fiercely at the driver’s window. She kicks out and boots the frame of the door with such ferocity that it swings open with a bang. Due to the confined space, she manages to wriggle out of my grasp, and I follow as fast as I can with a bloody nose and a searing pain shooting up through my skull. Given that I’m probably three times her size, it takes me longer to get to my feet. “Bitch,” I mutter, spitting out a mouthful of blood and wiping my face with the back of my hand. “Always a bitch causing me grief.”
As soon as I’m out of the car and upright, I turn to the direction in which I hear her boots pounding the road. She’s limping, but that doesn’t stop the adrenaline working overtime and fueling her body with enough energy to run. Fight or flight! The girl has at least enough sense to try and run. I follow swiftly, my long strides gaining ground behind her as her steps falter knowing I’m on her heels.
She owes me. She’s not going anywhere.
She glances back, finding me even closer than she thinks, and that’s her downfall, her feet tangle, and she stumbles, skidding across the loose road chippings. The yelp she makes as her cheek hits the ground actually makes me feel a little fucking guilty, which pisses me off even more. I never wanted to cause her any harm, that was never my intention, but her vengeance has cost me dearly, and now she needs to pay it back. Settle the score. This is more of an inconvenience than anything, Donny fucking Carden is still causing me trouble and he isn’t even breathing anymore.
She doesn’t move for a couple of seconds as she lies on the cold hard ground, and I wonder if she’s knocked herself out. I come to a halt and crouch beside her, brushing the dark hair from her face. Placing my hand on her shoulder, I get ready to roll her onto her back, but who knows what the hell I’m going to do with her after that. I’m no good at this shit. Where the fuck is Tex?
As I move her shoulder, her eyes shoot open, and I swear to god she gives a little smile before those dark eyes narrow and the back of her hand, the one covered in jagged, protruding rings, comes flying towards my face, connecting with my cheekbone and catching me off guard yet again, giving her a split second to try and make a break.
“Bitch,” I spit out through gritted teeth, ignoring the blood trickling down my cheek where her ring has ripped through my skin, “You’re gonna fucking pay for that.” Before she has chance to get to her feet, I grab her hair and yank her backward, shoving my boot into the back of her legs and making them buckle. She drops to her knees with her head pulled back as far as it will go, trying to relieve the pain caused by my tight, unrelenting grip.
“You’re hurting me!” she cries out.
“You’re not fooling anyone, sweetheart. I know that if I ease up or let you go, you’re gonna try for another fist in my face. Not gonna let that happen.” I crouch down behind her and tighten my hold on her hair. At any other time, given she’s kneeling in front of me and the grip I have on her, this would have resulted in a good time for both of us. But this is a situation I’ve not found myself in before. “So here’s what we’re gonna do,” I speak through heaving breaths. “You’re going to play nice, or I’m going to be forced to show you just how bad I can be. I’ve been gentle with you up until now, but make no mistake that I will knock you the fuck out if I so much as think you’re aiming to hurt me again. Do I make myself clear?” She rolls her shoulders, avoiding my question and trying to get loose without lashing out. So I wrap my fingers around her throat, still with one
hand tangled in her raven hair. This arches her back and pushes her ass out in such a position it would usually have me straining against the zipper of my jeans. I push my groin into her from behind, while my body surges and begs me to take advantage of her position. “I said, do I make myself clear?”
“Yes,” she whimpers reluctantly, knowing she’s beaten this time. My thumb strokes her throat, feeling her pulse beating faster by the second, and I lean in closer to her to whisper in her ear. “You know, from where I’m standing, you look pretty fuckable.” She draws in a deep breath, full of desire, pulsing with rage, and she twists in my grasp as Tex comes railing around the corner and skids to a halt right next to us.
“Am I interrupting something, boss?” he chuckles out of the window of his truck. I fight with myself not to laugh right back. No matter how hard I try, I can’t get used to the big, bad biker wearing a Stetson. He’s unique, our Tex.
“Two minutes later and you would have been.” I laugh quietly, waiting for the reaction from the raven-haired girl whose nostrils flare at my insinuation. “Calm your tits, sweetheart. I might be ready to knock you out, but I draw the line at rape. Now get up.” I order, releasing my hold on her throat but not on her hair.
“I’m not going to try anything, okay?” She flings her arms down at her sides. “You don’t have to hold on to me like a wild fucking animal.”
“If you didn’t act like a fucking wild animal, I wouldn’t have to treat you like one.”
“What am I supposed to do?” She spins to face me, and I let her hair go. Now that Tex is here, I have back up, and she wouldn’t get very far if she tried to run this time. “You held a fucking gun to my head, what kind of a lame-assed man does that to an innocent young girl?”
“Innocent?” I choke out a laugh. “You’re anything but innocent. I watched you torture a man to the point of near death, then put a bullet through his brain, I wouldn’t call that innocent.”
Tex interrupts, leaning on the side of the truck with one leg crossed over the other. “What have I been missing out on this evening?”
“Nothing,” I snap. Having him here makes me realize that this situation is fucked up. Everything about it is a fucking mess. I was supposed to be beating the fuck out of Donny Carden and getting info, not playing run around with a little bitch that’s done nothing but make my life difficult and my dick painfully hard. “Get in the truck,” I order, grabbing her elbow and marching her forwards.
“Fuck you,” she spits, yanking it away. “You think I’m getting in a truck with two strangers? You’re out of your fucking mind. You watched me earlier, you know I’m not a girl that will bend over for you. I’ve got more balls than most men. Give me my gun back, and I’ll walk away.” She places her hand on her hip, tilting her chin up and holding out her other hand for the gun.
“Get. In. The. Truck,” I order in a dangerously low voice, staring her down and trying to control the rage that’s fighting with an unfounded admiration for her courage. When she doesn’t move, I grab her by the wrist and yank her to me as Tex pulls some rope out of the back of the truck. I hold her tightly around her upper body, pinning her arms to her sides so she can’t move them. Tex grabs her legs as she kicks and screams for us to let her go. “Fucking banshee,” he mutters, just as she plants her boot square in his chest, knocking the air from his lungs with a whoosh. He staggers backward, struggling to catch his breath as she fights in my arms to get free. As tough as she is, her small frame is no match for my large one, and I restrain her with little effort. Tex straightens up and comes at her with fire in his eyes. He’s the nicest guy you’ll ever meet until you piss him off, then lookout. “You little bitch,” he hisses. He ties the rope quickly, looping it into a makeshift lasso and grabbing her ankles in such a tight grip she has no choice but to comply. Her strength is waning, and I’m still very aware of the injuries she’s sporting from the crash and skidding along the concrete, face first. He binds her impressively fast, hogtied—hands to feet, unable to move—and I wonder if this isn’t the first time he’s tried a little rope work on a chick.
“Done that before, brother?” I ask with a smirk.
He doesn’t answer but flashes me a wink, and I chuckle with a shake of my head.
“Let’s get this little filly into the truck,” Tex says, ignoring the torrent of expletives she’s shouting into the night and hauling her up in his arms to carry her around to the back seat of the truck. My arm shoots out to stop him, and he looks at me with a frown, there’s a part of me that really doesn’t like the fact that he’s tied her up like a pro and is now walking off with her in his arms. But I try and shake it off and tell myself that flying across the road in a car that’s on its roof has fucked with my head, and I’m not thinking straight.
The girl protests the whole way back to HQ. It is hardly surprising seeing as she is trussed up like a pig ready to be hog roasted. I would be pissed too. She has no idea who we are, where we are going, or what the hell is going to happen when we get there. I have no intention of hurting her, despite my earlier threats. Unless I’m forced to, that is. But there is no way I can let her go after watching her tonight. I need to know more. I need to know why. And she is going to pay back the debt that she took away from me by putting a bullet in Donny Carden’s head.
“I’ll take the girl,” I tell Tex, shouldering him out of the way as he opens the back door to lift her out. He raises a brow at me with a knowing look, and I dip my head to avoid his silent scrutiny. “I’ll send Ruck out to give you a hand offloading the car, then you need to take a couple of the prospects with you and search Donny’s place. You know what you’re looking for.”
“No problem.” He nods.
“Thanks, Tex.”
I lift the girl out. She hasn’t muttered a word since we stopped and she looks at me with pained eyes as I cradle her in my arms. Looking down at her now, she looks young, innocent even, and I start to feel guilty as fuck. “You okay?” I ask her. She gives a weak nod, but no words pass her lips, no fight from her spirit. I carry her into the compound, straight through the bar, ignoring the questions and jeers from the guys, who all conveniently ignore the fact that both of us are covered in blood but focus on the vision of a roped girl in my arms.
“The whores around here getting too easy for you, Ram?” Mo calls out. “Not enough of a challenge for you?”
“Shut the fuck up,” I call back, not slowing until I reach the door to my room in the basement. I bring one knee up to support the girl while I grab my keys from my pocket. As I slide the key into the door and glance back to the girls face, I freeze. “Fuck.” Her skin is ashen, and her body lies limp and lifeless in my arms. “Can you hear me?” I cup her cheek, moving her head gently from side to side to try and rouse her. “Shit,” I mutter, feeling frustrated that I can’t even call her by her real name. “Raven, wake up.” I carefully place her on the ground, untying Tex’s fucking knots as fast as my fingers can work. “Lia. LIA!” I call down the hallway in the hope that she, or anyone, can hear me. Her wrists are deeply marked, her breaths are shallow in her chest, and she doesn’t respond to my words. “LIAAAAAAAAA!”
Chapter 3
I awake, disoriented and in pain.
Despite the heavy metal band that’s playing at a thousand decibels in my head, I sit bolt upright in a panic with self-preservation at the forefront of my mind. My heartbeat races, nearly slamming out of my chest, and I blink rapidly, adjusting my eyes to the dim room and taking in my surroundings. I’m in a bed. An unfamiliar bed. An unfamiliar room, yet there’s a vaguely familiar face staring back at me.
“Welcome back,” he says with a blank expression, and I shuffle back up the bed, trying to put distance between us. His gaze isn’t sinister, but as my memory slowly recalls how I know him and why I’m here, I don’t think his relaxed posture is genuine either. He closes the distance between us faster than I can move and sits on the edge of the bed, clasping his hands in his lap with a lazy, but somewhat calculated deme
anor. I’m unsure if this is a ploy of his to make me feel at ease, or if he’s genuinely not a threat to me. My mind is messed up. Either way, I’m not buying it. I didn’t get this far in my life without having my wits about me and a suspicious mind analyzing every situation I’ve ever been presented with.
“Who are you, and why I am in this room?” I ask, narrowing my eyes at him.
“What do you remember?” He tilts his head the way a curious animal would.
“I asked first.”
He looks down at his hands with a small laugh, shaking his head. “Haven’t lost that fire in your belly, then? Guess we didn’t get off to the best start, huh?”
“That happens when some douchewank hijacks your car and presses a gun to your head.”
“Hey, I didn’t hijack your car, you still had the wheel,” he frowns, “and douchewank? Is that even a word?”
“Yes, I made it up, just for you. You fucking earned it.” I almost laugh at our easy banter. It’s like we’re old friends sharing a joke about times passed, but I remind myself of earlier and get back to business. “Okay. Enough of the small talk. Who the fuck are you and what am I still doing here? I didn’t do anything to you, other than smash your nose, which by the way, you took like a pussy, so I really don’t understand why you’re doing all of this to me.” Annoyance travels through my tone.
He raises his brows at me then takes a deep breath. “I’ll answer your questions, but in return I expect you to answer mine. Deal?” He holds out his big, rough, inked hand in a gesture for me to shake on it.
“Maybe.” I cross my arms and tear my eyes away from the letters inked on his knuckles.
L.O.V.E on the left hand and R.I.D.E on the right.
“I’m Ramsey. The truth is, I watched everything you did to dear old Donny, and while Im sure he deserved it, you’ve caused me a whole heap of problems, and now you’re going to help me solve them.”
“What problems?” I snap my head back around to him. “The only problem I could see was Donny Carden, the pedophile, being allowed to walk around like his shit didn’t stink and like he didn’t rape a twelve-year-old girl.”