by Jennifer Ann
Butcher’s amused expression is suddenly blanketed with a blinding rage that matches mine. “Let me give you a sound piece of advice, brother. Everyone here knows you gutted Rambone, and every last one of us is out for your blood. I’d take you out myself if I wasn’t worried Dryden would have my hide for stealing the opportunity he’s been looking forward to since the day they hauled you off in handcuffs. Whatever trick that hot little attorney of yours had up her sleeve to save you from a life in prison isn’t going to save you from the hell about to rain down on you here, so I wouldn’t be demanding a fucking thing from anyone. Either way, you’re not walking away from this. Your girl, on the other hand, may have a chance if you don’t fuck things up too badly for her, so I would suggest you calm your ass down.”
Knowing he’s right, that I’ll only hurt Alexa’s chances of getting out alive if I don’t control my anger, I shake Tatum’s hold to sink into the ratty old chair behind me, soliciting a satisfied grunt from Butcher.
“Sit tight for a second,” he says, pointing a crooked finger my way. “I’m going to check in to see if everything’s set. If your ass isn’t still in that chair when I get back, I fucking promise you’ll never see your woman again.”
As he leaves the room, Tatum lowers back into the other chair and sets her little fingers on my arm. “We’ll save her, Michael. I promise.”
Staring at one of the faded centerfolds pinned to the wall, long ago put there by Jack, I become lost in the old days…before my mom was murdered…before my old man failed to kill himself with a shotgun, instead feeding the dark demons constantly at battle in his head and leaving him paralyzed.
The club was once my sanctuary. I trusted the three men who stood alongside my father and saw them as my family. I was even naive enough to call Dryden and Rambone my uncles for a time. Their betrayal was not something I could ever take lightly or cast aside considering they singlehandedly destroyed my family. The blinding hurt and confusion over what they had done nearly tore me the fuck apart. The only response I had at the time—as a twenty year-old with no clear path or plans aside from working construction—was to run.
But the Corps made a man out of me, and that’s when I realized it was time to stop running. I knew the only way I could rest soundly at night was to plot a slow revenge against the two men who I wanted to see suffer as much as I wanted them dead.
“That asshole killed my mom,” I blurt.
I hear Tatum gasp at my side. “Who? This Butcher guy?”
“No, Dryden.”
“How do you know?” she asks in a soft voice.
Still staring at the poster, I flex my jaw. “I overheard him and Rambone talking about it…in this same fucking room. It was right before my old man tried to kill himself. Rambone was pissed Dryden hadn’t fed my mom’s body to the gators. He was worried my old man was on to the truth, and knew my mom had been fucking Dryden for years. During their conversation, it came out that she wanted to leave my old man so she could be with Dryden without having to hide anymore. Rambone was worried she wouldn’t stop there, that she’d tell my old man about some of the criminal deals they were running under the club’s name without Jack and my old man knowing. So…he convinced Dryden to kill her.”
“Jesus Christ. Did Jack know about any of this?”
“No. He still thinks my own man snapped and killed her. It wasn’t until a few years after I enlisted that Jack stepped down as president. He discovered Dryden and Rambone were running guns to the mafia. They must’ve started human trafficking shortly after he left. He was mad as hell when I came back and joined the club, but I couldn’t tell him the real reason I wanted in. The truth would’ve sent him over the edge, and I needed time to plan a way to get back at the two men who destroyed my family.”
“Michael.” She waits until I look her way. “Did you kill Rambone?”
A loud commotion outside the doorway—strangled women’s screams and the sound of a scuffle—springs both Tatum and I into action. Once in the hallway, the sight we come across slams my heart to a stop.
Alexa being thrown against a wall by Kerissa.
Alexa’s head covered in blood.
With a burst of adrenaline, I shove my way past Butcher as he comes across the scene, slightly satisfied by the sound of him crashing into the wall. I peel Kerissa off Alexa and fling her aside before taking my girl by the arms. She collapses against me, appearing too weak to stand.
“What happened?” I demand in a gentle but desperate tone as I try to look her over. The blood caked to the side of her face and across her blue tank top has dried, and a gash in her forehead looks to have started congealing. Stitches would’ve been a good idea, but at least she’s not in danger of bleeding out. “Did she do this to you?” I snarl.
The look Alexa gives me when she tilts her chin up is so broken that I consider handing her off to Tatum to go after Kerissa. What the fuck has she done to her?
I glance down at my ex, unsurprised to find she hasn’t changed any since I sent her away. The sight of all her skin exposed for the world to see reminded me why I despised the shit out of finding Alexa in that club. Kerissa has always known she’s hot, and gets off on showing off her goods. When she was with me, it was a big fucking problem—one that put me in the position of having to fight for her on more than one occasion.
It’s a stark reminder why I got off on seeing Alexa in the style she wore whenever she came to visit me in prison: sexy skirts that go down to her knees but still allow for easy access, classy blouses that show a hint of her lacy bras. The fancy clothes fit her personality and gave me just enough of a tease of her beautiful body to get hard every time I walked into that room, without fail. “Skank” will never be a term to describe the woman who’s etched a place in my heart and has become almost limp in my arms.
Suddenly Butcher commands in his deep voice, “Step the fuck away from her, MJ. I’m only telling you once!”
I look his way to find him holding Tatum under one arm and pressing the tip of his gun into her temple. Coiling my arms around Alexa, I jut my chin out and look him in the eye. “I’m not going anywhere without her.”
“Give me a fucking break!” Kerissa squeals from the floor, scrambling to her feet. “Are you going to stand there and pretend you’re really in love with that skank? Like your cold, black heart could really feel anything for a woman?”
“You shouldn’t have come back,” I warn her, grinding my jaw. “When your uncle learns what you did—”
She shakes her head slowly. “What we did, MJ. You and me. Don’t lie to yourself. You had everything to do with what happened.” Then she lifts a handgun and points it at my face. “I’m onto your game. I know you used me as a way to get to them, the same way you used that bitch you’re holding to set you free.”
“What the hell’s going on here?” Dryden’s voice booms behind us. “Kerrisa, put the goddamned gun down. You’re making a fool of yourself.”
Though Kerissa lowers the gun, her fingers stay curled around the handle. “Good to see you too, Uncle,” she answers, rolling her eyes. “Jesus, I expected more of a homecoming.”
Dryden cuts her a warning glare. “Shut your mouth, Kerissa. If you want to make yourself useful to the club, go with Freddie to Spinner’s and make sure everything is under control since Sasha and half the dancers are here. I’ll deal with you later.”
Kerissa balks for a moment. “But—”
“Now, Kerissa!” he barks. “I don’t have time for your bullshit!”
She’s finally smart enough to shut her mouth. As she turns for the last exit, she gives me one last deadly glare.
Once she’s out of sight, Dryden’s gaze lands on me. “Guess I should be pleased to see you out. Saves me the trouble of finding someone reliable on the inside to do my dirty work. I must say it was a bonus once I discovered you were involved with one of my biggest investments.” Lips twisting with a sick grin, his eyes drag down to Alexa. “Almost didn’t recognize you at first, sweet-tit
s. Becoming a woman has done wondrous things to your already fine body. You’ll bring me more money than ever.”
Though I want to floor him for talking about her like that, I’m motionless from his words. Why would he recognize her? What’s with the “becoming a woman” comment? Did they know each other before she started dancing at Spinner’s? All at once I feel as weak as Alexa and almost drop to the floor.
“Fuck you!” Alexa barks, her words garbled.
Dryden laughs with a dark, menacing sneer. “That will come later, sweetheart. I’ve waited too long for a taste of that fine ass to let the opportunity pass.”
With a bout of rage rippling through my core, my stomach surges. Locking my arms around Alexa, I pull her back with me a few steps. “You touch her and I will fucking kill you,” I promise.
Shaking his head with obvious disappointment, Dryden releases a deep sigh. “MJ, my boy, you’ve lost your touch.”
There’s a loud pop behind me, then pain pulsates across my back and my body stiffens. Alexa gasps as I release her, and she spins around in time to see me fall from the electric current.
Tito, one of my old club brothers, stands over me with a Taser in hand. His ugly mug twists with a satisfied grin. I try to yell and make my body function, but I’m fucking helpless as Dryden and Tito drag both Tatum and Alexa away despite their best efforts to scream for help and break free.
Right before Alexa disappears from sight around the corner, the horrified look on her face shatters something deep inside. No fucking way I’ll let this be the end for both of us.
Hands cuffed behind my back, mouth gagged, heart trying to burst from my fucking chest, I drag my tunneled vision away from the father figure also bound and gagged at my side as Dryden takes center stage. The smug fucker has the balls to look me in the eye and sneer. The only way I’m able to stop myself from completely losing it is by imagining how spectacular it will feel to finally slit his throat.
As if able to read my thoughts, he winks and chuckles before his eyes slip out into the crowd. “Good evening, gentlemen!” he croons, clapping his hands together. “I’m delighted you’re able to join us tonight as we auction off some of the finest goods you’ll find in all of Florida!” He waits for the crowd to finish whistling and cheering.
“The fact that you’re standing here tonight among distinguished guests should not be taken lightly. This exclusive sale was formed only because you, the fine citizens of the greater Tampa area, asked for it. It goes without saying not a single soul in attendance here this evening should mention a word of this event outside of these cement walls. Because if I go down, everyone in this room goes along with me. Now that we have the unpleasant necessities out of the way, what do you say we get down to business?”
The warehouse buzzes with excitement as the only woman I’ve ever loved appears alongside Tatum and five other barely dressed women. As if to remind me how fucking helpless I am to become their hero and save the day, Butcher presses the cool muzzle of a handgun to the base of my skull.
Men in suits erupt with applause and shouts of approval as the imprisoned women are herded toward Dryden. Alexa’s as sexy as shit—probably the hottest she’s been since we’ve met. Hair styled in giant waves, make-up dark and alluring, a sparkling black bikini that hugs her beautiful curves. And the way she struts those long, toned legs…it’s almost unreal. How fucked up am I that my dick starts to get hard? Disgusted with myself, a scorching rush of puke burns through my throat. My girl’s going to bring in a shit-ton of money, and I can’t even save myself.
Chin held high, Alexa would seem unaffected by the fact that she’s about to be auctioned off to the highest bidder. But I’m willing to bet my life Dryden threatened to kill me if she doesn’t cooperate and put on a good show.
Sasha directs Alexa to stop at Dryden’s side, and the sick fucker wraps his arm around my girl’s bare shoulders. Despite Butcher’s silent threat, I struggle against the handcuffs and attempt to rise to my feet.
“Don’t make me do it, brother,” Butcher growls, moving the gun to Jack’s temple and releasing the safety. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to teach this old crow a lesson.”
Meeting Jack’s calming gaze, I settle back and pull in a deep breath through my nostrils. One way or another, I will make good on my threat to kill Dryden. If I had done it sooner, Alexa wouldn’t be in this fucked up situation.
The crowd becomes animated as the bidding begins on one of the youngest looking women in the mix. I’d bet she’s not even of legal age. Unable to take on the cool calm of Alexa and Tatum, her eyes water over and her bottom lips quiver.
Ten thousand…
Fifteen thousand…
Twenty thousand…
Jesus Christ, I can’t believe this shit is happening right in front of my fucking eyes. My head pounds furiously as I search around me and across the building for a way out, a sign of hope.
Before I know it, the bidding has moved on to Tatum. Knowing she’s the last one up before Alexa, I break out in a cold sweat from head to toe.
Then I hear Jack grunting beside me. I turn, expecting him to be hurt, but his eyes are bright as they move from me to motion across the bidding floor. I follow the direction of his gaze, and can’t breathe with my discovery.
Son. Of. A. Bitch.
17
Alexa
A swell of sickness rises in my belly every time a man raises his arm to bid on Tatum. I’m pretty confident she’ll find a way out as soon as she’s alone with the winner, but it doesn’t make the situation any less fucked up. And poor Vee…who’s going to save her once she’s alone with the overweight pervert who “won” her?
The auction ends at thirty-five thousand to a large man in a three-piece suit who’s admittedly easy on the eyes, which makes everything all the more messed up. Jesus, the guy is built almost as much as Michael. Maybe it won’t be as easy for Tatum to fight her way out of the situation as I originally thought. All at once I feel guilty for not letting her go over her supervisor’s head like she wanted to when I first came up with this asinine idea. At least we would’ve had a sliver of hope that we’d survive this mess.
“Mark my words, we’re all going to walk away from this,” she whispers in my ear. “Tonight.”
Before we were brought out for the auction, she had several opportunities to pass on little words of confidence. She told me not to worry. She promised she wouldn’t let anyone hurt me. She looked as determined as I’ve ever seen her when she said everything would be okay. Until Dryden takes my hand, holding my arm up in the air like I’ve just been crowned Miss America, I believed her.
“And now for the highlight of the evening!” he announces, generating a new wave of applause.
His words become hallowed and sound far away as he rattles off my body measurements and the fact that I’m a highly sought-out dancer from his club. I’m unexpectedly catapulted back to the night when I was fifteen and first met the psychotic man at my side.
I never learned the name of the bastard that drug me from my foster parents’ basement all those years ago. He was beyond repulsive—excessive skin tags everywhere, beady little eyes set too close, a belly that nearly hung down to his knees, and a stench that clung to him like shit. It never failed to make my stomach lurch whenever he was near.
His cold, doughy hands were all over me the night he auctioned me off in a stuffy little room somewhere in the bowels of Tampa. Packed with men like sardines, the stench of cigars and sweat had me struggling to take each unsteady breath.
The man always had a rough hand, and that night was no exception as he held me in place by a fistful of hair. “Gentlemen, we have ourselves a rarity with this young beauty! I have it on good authority that she’s a bonafide virgin!”
The dirtbags in the room lost their minds with the news, and I was convinced the bidding would never stop. I stood at the man’s side sobbing, tears rushing down my cheeks and their bitter taste filling my mouth until I finally threw up
on the man’s shoes. Men of all shapes, ages, and sizes eagerly bid that night. The sick pedophiles were all eager to get their hands on the scrawny, underfed teen who was quite obviously terrified out of her mind.
As I was hauled away by the winner, my naive younger self believed the flicker of kindness I saw in Dryden’s handsome eyes. “Don’t be afraid, sugar,” he said. “I’m not like the other men you saw tonight. I’m not going to hurt you.”
He took me to a rundown little house where I was locked up in a dark room with bars on the windows. I was fed three meals every day that tasted like heaven in comparison to the shit my foster parents fed me over the years. Dryden always made sure my bed sheets were clean, and provided me with an endless supply of clothing and pajamas that were shockingly modest. He never once touched me inappropriately or said things that made me uncomfortable.
I believed him when he said he promised to take care of me, because that’s exactly what he did. For weeks I silently willed him to release me out of the kindness of his heart. Until the day he auctioned me off to a pimp for almost twice as much as he paid, I truly believed he would save me.
“Gentlemen, we have a final bid of sixty-five thousand!”
With Dryden’s declaration and the applause that follows, I’m torn from the painful memories and thrust back into the real world that’s just as frightening. My eyes flicker to the crowd, watching as a man shakes hands with someone clapping him on the back.
I suck in a sharp breath.
It’s the same man who bought Tatum.
“Things are looking better by the second,” she whispers with a sudden light in her eyes.
Though she’s right, it’s two against one, and our individual backgrounds have made us stronger than most women, I’m still skeptical of our ability to fight against the hulking man. And it makes me livid that unless something changes, Dryden will walk away from this night without consequences. The only hope we have is for Tatum to break free and arrest his disgusting ass.