Wild & Free_A Motorcycle Club Romance_Burning Angels MC

by Claire St. Rose

  “I guess if he doesn’t come here, we’ll just have our fun anyway, won’t we?” He grinned toothily at her. “That’s the best part about hostages. It’s usually a win-win.”

  She arched a brow reflexively.

  “Oh, don’t think I haven’t taken my fair share of hostages in life.” He tutted, like she’d responded to him. “That was my bargaining chip to getting into Demon Seed. I have skills, you see. That’s what I was great at in Burning Angels…until those assholes kicked me out. But I had to leverage those skills to get into the Seed. And, well, when I told them I could deliver Bo dead…you better believe they leapt at the chance to recruit me. Those fuckers hate him almost more than I do!”

  Dakota looked away. So Ray’s only entry card into the rival club was hanging on the promise of killing Bo. Ray was crazy, but she hadn’t realized just how far off the deep end he’d gone.

  “You know, when I think about it…” Ray sighed, almost nostalgically, like revisiting a childhood bedroom. “It’s gonna be really perfect that I kill him here, in your apartment.” Ray smiled down at her, smoothing a hand over her head. She shuddered. “This is where he killed my blood brother, so this is where he deserves to die.”

  Dakota tried to shout against the duct tape--You’re fucking nuts, you’ll never pull this off you dumbass—but it came out a garbled mess. Ray lifted a brow, like he’d heard her perfectly.

  “You seem to have some reservations. Don’t worry, you’ll see.” Ray paused, turning an ear toward the outward facing window. “Oh. Do you hear that?” A smile slowly spread across his face. “I think it’s them.”

  The rumble of motorcycles approached, distant but ferocious, like a cavalcade was en route. Ray tore off his shirt and tossed it aside, loosening and then sliding off his belt. “We have to be ready,” he said, his voice hushed, like this were some ceremony he’d been preparing for. He bent down, tugging at the waist of Dakota’s leggings. She screamed against the duct tape, wriggling away from him, making it as hard as possible for him to take her pants off.

  “Let me take these off, you dumb bitch.” His voice came out edges with razors. After she writhed and twisted, the roar of the motorcycles growing louder, Ray stood up and slapped her. The impact stunned her and she froze, blinking dully. Prickles of pain radiated through her cheek and he smiled.

  “Don’t fight me.” He tugged at her leggings and slid them down to mid-thigh. “Or I’ll have to do that again. But harder.”

  She whimpered with fear as he tugged the leggings off and tossed them aside to join his shirt. She kept her legs pressed together, sweat making her palms itch, craning to see a glimpse of Bo, or Turbo, or anyone who might fucking be able to rescue her.

  “They’re on the way,” Ray said, stepping over to the window. He peered outside, then grunted. “Yep. That’s them.”

  Ray rushed over to pick up his gun, training it on her. His eyes took on a beady glaze. “It’s show time.”

  Dakota gulped, anxiety and fear making sickening swirls in her belly. She glanced between the front door and the window, listening as the roar of motorcycles filled the parking lot outside. One by one they switched off; distant voices could be heard. The thud of footsteps on cement. Dakota tensed. Please, God, whoever, let make it out of here alive.

  She watched the door, eager for something, anything, to begin. Anything that would lead her away from this dismal reality. A light knock sounded. Ray’s answer came lightning fast.

  “Who is it?”

  “It’s Bo.” His voice was muffled through the door.

  Relief swept through her, and tears squeezed out the sides of her eyes. She sniffed, so eager to lay eyes on him she couldn’t stand it.

  Ray straightened. “Are you alone?”

  “Some of my guys came with me, but they’re outside. I just wanna talk.”

  Ray’s jaw tensed. “Only you’re allowed to come in. Nobody else. And I’m serious about this. Don’t fucking push me, Braxton.”

  There was a pause, then Bo’s voice sounded. “Okay. Now can I come in?”

  Ray glared down at her briefly then looked up at the door. “Do it.”

  The front door creaked open, Bo’s hand pushing at the door. He poked his head in, hands at his sides like showing surrender, and he stepped inside slowly. His familiar powerful build made her weak, bags under his eyes like he hadn’t slept since she disappeared on him. His gaze swept the room and his mouth fell open when he saw Dakota. Tears blurred her vision; she might never forget the look that seared across his face.

  “What the fuck are you doing, Ray?” Bo stepped into the apartment, eyes riveted on Dakota. Her chest rose and fell quickly as she struggled to contain the emotion. She’d never been so goddamn happy to see anyone in her entire life. And right now, she never wanted to see anyone else other than Bo. For eternity.

  “That’s not for you to question,” Ray hissed, pressing the gun into Dakota’s temple.

  Bo straightened, his brows furrowing. “Put the gun down. We don’t need to involve her.”

  “No, I need to involve her.” Ray pressed he barrel of the gun into her temple so hard it hurt. She whimpered, pinching her eyes shut. “It’s the only way to get to you.”

  “What do you want?” Bo’s voice came out calm and measured, the exact opposite of every emotion coursing through her veins.

  “I want you to watch.” Ray’s voice went sugary, like suggesting something as innocuous as a visit to the park. “I’m gonna fuck Dakota, and you’re gonna watch.”

  Tears streamed down her face and she watched as Bo wrestled with this. Anguish sliced his face and he took a moment before he responded.

  “What do you fucking want from me?” Bo’s voice came out hard, edged with tension. “I’ll give it to you. Whatever you want. You just need to let her go.”

  Ray cackled. “Yeah, we’ll get to that. But first—your gun.”

  Bo’s gaze didn’t waver from Ray as he fished a pistol out of his shoulder holster and then a Glock from the back of his pants. He slid them both on the ground toward Ray, his mouth a thin line. “There.”

  Ray nodded toward him. “And the others.”

  Bo hesitated, then reached down to each leg of his pants, extracting small pistols from a holster on either leg. He slid those across the room too.

  “And the knives,” Ray said.

  Bo’s jaw tensed and he reached under his shirt, fiddling with something before he revealed a long, sheathed knife. He tossed it toward Ray. “That’s it.”

  “Come on.” Ray tutted.

  “I swear. I’ve got nothin’ else.”

  Ray narrowed his eyes. “Packing light today, huh?”

  Bo’s dark gaze didn’t waver. “Now let her go.”

  “Oh, no. Not yet.” He waved Bo over with the gun, a sickening grin spreading across his face. “Come here. I want you to get a front row seat.”

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Bo took measured breaths, doing everything in his power not to rush at Ray and punch the living shit out of him. Not when he had a gun trained on Dakota. But there was no hell he would watch him rape—well, anyone, but especially not the woman he loved.

  Bo stepped forward slowly, eyes darting around the living room as he formulated a plan. So Ray wanted to make him hurt—payback, no doubt—and possibly even deliver him to Demon Seed, if his pending affiliation with them was any clue.

  There was no way in hell Ray would accomplish either of those things—even if he had to die trying.

  Bo had entered the apartment complex on the strict orders that his club brothers wait for his word. He’d known they’d be entering a hostage situation, and any number of extra players would only work against him. Bo had to solve this on his own from the inside. His brothers would come in only if there was gunfire or shouting.

  Ray waved the gun toward the wall facing the couch. “Sit there.”

  Bo leaned against the wall, giving him the meanest stare possible.

  “I said sit,
” Ray spat.

  Bo lowered slowly, coming to his knees. His last line of defense niggled inside his sock—the tiny knife stowed away for emergencies—and he watched while Ray grinned down at Dakota. Her tear-streaked cheeks made his heart wrench. Just hang on darlin’. I’ll get you out of this.

  Her messy black hair showed signs of struggle; a bruise formed on the side of her face, and her neck. Emotion tightened his chest and he balled his fists, drawing a hand subtly closer to the sock where the knife was stowed. Ray snapped his eyes toward him.

  “Hands in the air.”

  Bo gritted his teeth, putting his hands in the air.

  “Now.” Ray pushed his pants down with a free hand, the gun pressed against Dakota’s temple. Pain slashed through him. If Ray wanted to hurt him, he’d picked the right thing. This was one of the most fucked up situations he’d ever been in…and Dakota didn’t deserve to be involved.

  That’s why she ran. Look at what you bring to her.

  His throat tightened and he watched Dakota with pleading eyes, trying to send as much calmness to her as he could. I’ll get you out of his. I promise I will. Just distract him long enough for me.

  Ray’s dick pressed against his boxers, tenting the fabric. He laughed a little, smoothing a hand over Dakota’s creamy thigh. “Yeah, not too hard to get turned on for this one.” He glanced back at Bo, who scowled at him. “Am I right?”

  “Don’t fucking talk about her like that,” Bo snapped, the anger making fast coils inside him. This was too much. He’d only grazed her thigh and he could snap his neck in half.

  “Oh, come on Bo.” Ray tutted, like he was being unreasonable. “I know how you operate. I was your brother for five years, remember? I watched you treat every woman like a piece of shit. Now I want to do the same and you suddenly have a problem with it?” He scoffed, swinging the gun toward Bo.

  “Leave her the fuck alone,” Bo growled, staring him down. “Shoot me if you want, but you don’t touch her.”

  “Oooh. Testy.” Ray chuckled. “Actually, I’ll do whatever the hell I want. Just so you know.” Ray swung the gun back toward Dakota, smashing the barrel against her temple.

  “Spread your legs.” Ray’s command made Bo’s stomach turn. Dakota shook her head, teary eyes staring up at Ray with pure fear.

  “I said, spread your legs.” Ray slapped her across the cheek, the curt crack of his palm against skin ricocheting throughout the room. Bo swallowed his reaction, trying to steel himself, to play it calm and collected as long as he could.

  Dakota kept her legs pressed together and rolled away from him. Bo perked up. Ray struggled to press the gun to her head again, reaching for her with a free hand. He grabbed at her waist, sliding her closer. Bo lowered a hand to his sock, keeping the other one in the air, and quietly fished out his secret knife.

  When Ray straightened, his back almost totally toward him, Bo launched to his feet and raced forward, wrapping a thick arm around Ray’s neck. Ray yelped, both hands coming to the arm at his neck, the gun clattering to the floor.

  “Bo, what the fuck are you doing.” His voice came out strangled. “Let me go.”

  “You’ve gotta be fuckin’ nuts.” Bo wrestled him to the ground, his tiny yet super-sharp knife pressed to his throat. A trickle of blood showed already. “I already told you once not to touch her like that. Now you’re gonna die.”

  Ray let a strangled laugh. “You’re wrong, bucko. You killed my brother, so you’re gonna die.” With a hand he groped along the floor, searching for his gun. “You’re next in line.”

  Bo wrestled him away from the gun, tightening his hold on his neck. Ray gasped, clutching lamely at his arm. Then his hand fell to his pants crumpled on the floor. He rummaged for something there but Bo yanked him away from that.

  Bo looked up to find Dakota’s fearful eyes on him. He nodded toward his guns on the floor and she responded almost instantly, rolling off the couch. When she stood over the guns, Bo flipped Ray onto his back and held his forearm over his throat, enjoying the bulging of his veins at the temples.

  “Thanks for the fun time today, Ray.” Bo pressed a knee into his groin, to quiet his thrashing. “I’d send you with a message to pass on to Tony, but I doubt you’ll be seeing him where you’re going.” He grinned sardonically as Dakota kicked a gun his way. The clatter across the floor made Ray crane his neck to look, gasping in the process.

  Bo reached for the gun and held it up to Ray’s forehead. “Bye, now.”

  Bo grabbed for a couch cushion and held it over Ray’s face before he pulled the trigger, wincing as the muffled blast echoed through the living room. Dakota whimpered and sobbed against the duct tape, her face moist and red. Bo tossed the cushion aside, one entire side covered in blood splatters, chest heaving as he assessed Ray’s lifeless body.

  “Darlin’.” Bo pushed himself to standing and raced over to Dakota, who sat limp on the ground. He cupped her face in both hands and looked her up and down, tears choking his throat. “Let’s get this tape off.”

  She nodded and he grabbed an edge. “I’m gonna do it fast, okay?”

  She nodded again, strands of her dark hair stuck to her forehead.

  He grimaced and ripped it off fast. She howled, falling forward against him. He scooped her into his arms, pressing her against him, so thankful for the heat and weight of her that he could cry.

  “I’m so sorry for this,” he whispered into her hair, pulling her into his lap. He cradled her there on the kitchen floor, rocking her gently. “I’m so sorry for all of this.”

  She sobbed into his chest, clinging to him like he might float away if she didn’t. “Bo, it was so scary. He said so much shit…” Her breath hitched. “I just wanted you to come save me. I needed you.”

  “And I came.” He ran a hand through her hair. “He can’t hurt you anymore, darlin’.”

  She hooked her arms around his neck. He held her like a child, her head nuzzled into the hollow of his neck. The door creaked open and Turbo stepped in.

  “Boss?”

  Bo nodded. “It’s all good.” He took a deep inhale of Dakota’s hair. But it hadn’t been all good for almost a week now. Now that she was in his arms, he could breathe again. “I took care of Ray. You guys go to Demon Seed headquarters. Take ‘em out.”

  Turbo nodded at the raw directive, his eyes darkening. “I’ll let you know when we get there.”

  Bo nodded, tightening his arms around Dakota. When she looked up at him, mascara stains lined her cheeks. “I’m sorry I left.”

  He pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Don’t be sorry.”

  “But I am. I should have just stayed, and talked to you.” She knotted a hand in the front of his shirt. “God, I’ve missed you.”

  Bo pressed his lips to her forehead, fighting the tightness in his throat. Outside, the roar of motorcycles filled the air as his brothers hit the road to Demon Seed. “Me too, darlin’.” His voice came out a choked whisper. “More than I can even explain.” A few moments of quiet went by, and then he dared to ask the question that had stormed and clanked around in his mind for days. “Why’d you go?”

  Dakota sniffed hard, rubbing her eyes against the inside of her arm. “Because I was pissed at you. Turbo had told me that you killed the president of Demon Seed and I…I don’t know, I just freaked out. This stuff is hard for me to handle, and I felt like you had lied to me. Like if I stayed with you it would just be an endless cycle of this drama.”

  Bo pinched his eyes shut, rubbing her back methodically. “I guess I didn’t tell you I did that, huh.”

  “No. I felt betrayed.” She drew a ragged breath, then sobbed again. “I don’t like being kept in the dark. And your whole club, it’s just wandering through the darkness.”

  “That’s not true,” he said.

  “For me it is.” She sniffed, wiping at her cheeks. “I can’t live like that.”

  Bo let her words settle in the air between them, heavy like an angry fist. His mind roiled with r
esponses and pleas, but none made the leap past his lips. Until he blurted, “It won’t be like that anymore. Because I need you in my life.”

  Her body shook with a new round of sobs.

  “All this bullshit here,” he shifted beneath her, grazing a kiss across her cheek, “This isn’t gonna be the norm. I swear to you. I had to kill Demon Seed’s president. This is what you don’t understand…because I didn’t fucking explain it to you.”

  He paused, struggling to find the right words. “I’m sorry that I didn’t tell you sooner. I’ve never…been with someone like you before. I didn’t realize that keeping you in the dark would drive you away.” He took a deep breath, trying to make his voice come out even and strong. “I had to take out the president because ever since he took control, the club has been going down a dark path. We caught them dealing drugs—hard drugs—to kids on the street, picking up innocent people and trying to brainwash them because they need the numbers.”