by Nicole Snow
This club, this man, this place – they were all so close to hell I could practically smell the sulfur dripping off the walls. I seriously wondered if Jackie and I died with daddy, and now we were all paying for his sins.
Escape? It wasn't even an option.
The first day he was gone, I found out fast the door was locked from the other side. Even if we'd somehow made it out, the place was always swarming with them.
Big, brutal men stomped around outside, as dangerous and foul tempered as the grizzly bears they wore on their leather vests. Sometimes¸ I heard them fucking their women through the walls. The girls screamed so loud I couldn't tell if they were being ripped apart by pleasure or having the life torn out of them.
Jackie ate, slept, and took long private trips to the bathroom, avoiding me so I wouldn't see her crying. Watching her kill herself to stay strong really hurt.
I was the fuckup. I'd accepted a bundle of miracle money I knew nothing about, and I'd landed us both here.
Jesus, if only I'd taken a fistful of money and woken Jackie up. We could've left that night while we sorted it out. We could've gotten away, stayed in a hotel, avoided all this. If only I'd stopped to think there'd be others after the fortune daddy left behind in vain.
Now, it was gone. Gone forever, just like any shred of hope that we wouldn't just move from one rung of hell to the next. And that was if we were lucky enough to get away from these monsters.
I was skeptical Brass had done anything more than delay what those rougher, darker men wanted to do to us in the basement. Why he'd decided to delay our doom, I couldn't figure out.
Did he really have a heart? Or was he just another demon, driven by something different than money and blood, but just as selfish?
The third evening, he came in carrying burgers and fries. I could've killed for something leafy and green, but my stomach was so empty and unsettled it wouldn't let me resist anything I shoved in my face. My stomach rumbled hard when I smelled the greasy, delicious food.
“Dinner,” he said, passing me a burger. “Try to finish it up fast because we got shit to do tonight.”
I raised an eyebrow, making sure Jackie got into her food first before I began to eat. She hadn't lost her appetite through all this by some miracle, but I wasn't taking any chances.
Little sis had me to look out for her now. Me, the big sister who'd failed to protect her, and nobody else.
“Yeah? What's that? Spraying us down with Febreze while we're rotting away in here?” A little more venom in my blood replaced the fear the big biker originally inspired every day.
He shook his head. “I'm taking you two to your new place. You've been cooped up in my room long enough. If you think it's been fun for me sleeping on the floor, you're a fucking –“
He stopped just short of saying idiot. For some reason, the weird catch brought a sour smile to my lips. He was civil, in his own twisted way. But that wasn't saying much for men who had no manners whatsoever.
“How do we know this isn't another trick?” I said, biting into my cheeseburger.
“I don't play games, babe. If I was really gonna drive you out into the boonies and off you, I wouldn't be wasting money feeding your mouths.” He smoothed his face with one hand. “Yeah, on the other hand, I guess you don't know shit. That's the way it's gonna stay. You'll just have to take my word for it and be good while I drive you over.”
“We've had plenty of practice, mister,” Jackie chimed in, munching on a fry. “Behaving ourselves is all we've been doing here, in case you hadn't noticed.”
Brass gave my sister a dark, angry look, but held himself in check. He never lashed out at her, even on the few occasions when she'd insulted him to his face. That surprised me.
It was hard to imagine any decency among these men. With the others, I didn't think we'd be so lucky, but Brass...well, he put at least some limits on his explosive testosterone.
“Fucking finish up. We don't got all day. I'd rather get you girls outta here without dealing with the brothers.” He turned, removing his food from the bag and digging in.
I watched him chew. There was no way he could've been more than a few years older than me, somewhere in his mid-twenties. The hormones whistling through his veins did far more than make him act like a barbarian.
He dripped sex. He was raw. Masculine. Real in a way I didn't know a man could be.
When he came into the room, he commanded my attention. His gravity tilted my whole narrow world to his barrel chested center, his emerald eyes I feared had x-ray vision to see what I was really thinking.
I hated – no, loathed – admitting it, but if he wasn't holding us prisoner here, wearing that ferocious beast on his jacket, he definitely would've turned my head at any bar.
Not that I knew much about that. Taking care of dad and Jackie finished off what little social life I'd had as a young woman. But like any red blooded woman, big muscles and devilish ink drew my eyes, and Brass was all strength and edge, a living sculpture whose rogue looks were just the type to walk up and punch you in the face.
Bastard. I hated the little flash of heat that started low in my belly whenever I saw him, the fire that would've kept spreading down between my legs if I didn't look away. And I always did.
Avoiding him was all I had. I couldn't let him infect my mind.
We ate in silence until everyone was finished. He collected our trash and tossed it into a wastebin. We stood and followed him out into the smelly hallway. No matter how many times the door opened, my nose hadn't gotten used to the reeking tobacco and old whiskey that seeped out of everything.
My nerves shook when we walked through the bar, passing several tables with dark, savage looking men. They all stopped and eyeballed us. I could handle the ugly, lecherous looks, but my face burned with rage when their eyes ran up and down Jackie's body.
She stayed close to me, and I stayed even closer to Brass. Yeah, it was definitely bad when the devil I knew was a comfort against all these other demons.
As if sensing the unease, a rough hand reached for mine. I looked up in surprise as Brass took my hand. Refusing to fight it off was an even bigger surprise.
He led us past the bar and down another hall on the opposite side of the large building. We headed for an exit at the end that looked like it led into a big garage full of trucks and motorcycles. I could see them through the glass window in the door.
“Hey!” A rough voice hit the backs of our heads like bricks when we were almost at the door.
Brass released my hand and spun, pushed through us, and stepped forward, keeping Jackie and I behind him.
“What the fuck are you doing with these bitches, Brass? Didn't hear we were ready to release any collateral.” A big man with a bald head and beefy Popeye forearms folded his arms, waiting patiently for Brass to catch up to him.
“Blackjack said to get them outta the clubhouse, so that's what I'm doing. I'm following orders, Veep.” Brass shrugged, cool as the night breeze outside.
“Fucker should've ran it by me or Fang first. I'm not convinced these cunts aren't gonna talk. Roughed 'em up pretty good from what I heard during the debriefing. Girls don’t forget that kinda shit.” The big man he called VP grunted, showing his teeth.
“We were all there for church. I know you were paying attention, Veep, same as the rest of us. You know the older one's my old lady, right?”
“Yeah.”
“You saying I don't know how to control my own woman? Fuck, brother, I've kept 'em under lock and key every damned minute they've been in this clubhouse. I haven't done anything to hurt the club and I never would. Won't let them do it neither.”
The older man stepped forward, flexing one fist. Brass closed the distance between them, pushing his chest against the stranger, tipping his head in the air.
“Go ahead and break my jaw if you don't believe me, Crack. Missy's my fucking property now, and I know how to handle what's mine. I know where club biz begins and ends. I'm not telling he
r shit, and we're leaving so she doesn't stick her ears anywhere they don't belong here. Shit, I'll watch her and the baby girl day and night if I have to, just as soon as my woman's got my brand stamped on her skin.” Brass paused, sucking in a hot, angry breath. “Go ahead and knock my fucking teeth out if you got a problem with that. Just know they're gonna be yours if you do.”
I held my breath. The man had balls, and he was fighting for us in his own twisted way. I couldn't deny him that.
The older man's fist jerked – down to his side. With an angry swipe of the arm, he gave Brass a hard push. He caught himself against the wall, never taking his eyes off Crack's snarling face.
“Just get 'em the fuck outta my sight!” the VP roared. “You'd better make sure their mouths are sewn shut for your own damned sake. I won't hesitate to take you out back and use the Mauler on you myself if I hear a peep about either of those bitches going to daddy's old friends. The last fucking thing this club needs is cops sniffing around when the cartel's at our throats.”
Brass didn't say anything. He nodded once, then turned, leaving the raging volcano behind.
When he caught up to me, he grabbed my hand more fiercely this time, throwing open the door. We headed for a rusted old pickup and he opened the passenger door, waving Jackie and I inside.
I helped my sis get in and climbed in myself while he took the driver's side.
“Cover your eyes 'til we're through the gate,” Brass growled, backing the truck down a small parking strip. “Can't have either of you looking at this place and it's layout. I'll tell you when it's okay to see again.”
Jackie gave me an uncertain look. “Do it,” I mouthed silently, covering her eyes with one hand.
She struggled against me for a second, but then relented. We rode for about five to ten minutes in pure silence, listening to the truck's engine humming.
Keeping my brain from going to a thousand pitch black places was a constant struggle. I didn't want to believe he was going to hurt us or drop off our lifeless bodies – especially not after he'd put up such a convincing show – but I just didn't know.
I didn't know anything about this man except that he was a slightly smoother cog in the brutal machine called the Grizzlies MC. Trusting him wasn't going to happen – not without knowing we had our lives.
“Okay. You can open your eyes now,” he said firmly.
Uncovering Jackie's first, I looked out through the windshield into the night. We were definitely back in town, judging by all the bright lights. Just in time to watch him turn down a narrow residential street I'd seen a few times before.
We pulled up next to an old square three story building and he killed the engine, then reached past Jackie and I for the glove compartment. I watched him pull out a plastic tag and hang it on the rear view mirror.
“What're we doing here?” Jackie asked, beating me to the punch.
“Sleeping, eating, shitting. Looking pretty.” I frowned at his crude answer. “Whatever the hell you girls do in your off hours. This is your new home.”
I swallowed. It was too good to be true. Well, as 'good' as having a bland new apartment handed to us by a thug like Brass could be.
He got out and slammed his door without saying another word, stopping by the building's glass door to wait for us. I held Jackie's hand until she shook me off.
Whatever, as long as she was following my footsteps.
The place had that eighties feel, and it smelled just as old too. But after three days in the stinking clubhouse, anything was an improvement. Brass led us up a small staircase and stopped at the second door on the right.
“Number 205. That's your new place.” He shoved a key in and popped the door, holding it open for us.
We stepped inside. The biggest surprise was seeing the place fully furnished. The couch, chairs, and little dining table next to the kitchen weren't going to win any awards for fashion, but they looked clean and functional. I walked around, eyeing my new home, leaning close to the tacky brown sofa and giving it a sniff.
Thank God. The smoky old stink of the clubhouse wasn't bleeding out the cushions, so he hadn't gotten it from there.
Jackie walked straight into the little hall. I joined her a second later, wondering why she looked so perked up.
“Two bedrooms!” she chirped. “That's a lot better than the crap I thought he'd –“
She stopped, swallowing her words. Brass stood at the other end of the hall, his arms folded, looking seriously scary in the darkness.
I reached for a switch in the bathroom and flipped it on. The light did a lot to take the evil edge off him, but he still looked like he'd leave scorch marks if I got too close. He was all muscle, all fire rippling in his flesh, and he held every last key to our fate in his big calloused hand.
“Catch.” He threw me the small bundle of keys and I threw my hands out, wrapping my fingers around it.
“You're paid up through the end of the month, and I'll chip in something for next month too, as needed.” He turned.
I followed him into the living room while Jackie lingered in the bigger bedroom. She'd already claimed hers. Not something I was going to fight her about.
“The couch folds down,” he said, flopping on it in front of me. His leather cut jumped up his stomach for a second, revealing a tight set of abs I hadn't seen on a man outside underwear ads in magazines.
I quirked an eyebrow. “Does it matter? Something tells me we're not allowed to have any guests.”
“Fuck, yes, it matters. This is where I'm gonna crash while I keep an eye on you two.”
My heart sank. Of course. Just because he'd moved us to a better prison, didn't mean we were home and free.
And why not? My first instinct alone would've been to grab Jackie, head for a hotel, and spill my guts about this nightmare to the first cop I saw.
“It's been a long fucking time since I lived in an apartment,” he said, stretching his huge body out on the cushions. “You'll have the place to yourselves most of the time. Club business keeps me busy during the day, you know.”
Duh. We'd been left alone for days, never knowing when he'd blow in, or what he'd do with us. His 'business' only fed the hellish uncertainty filling our lives.
I cautiously planted my butt in the wicker rocking chair next to him. “Fine. What about school for Jackie? She's been out all week dealing with my father's death, but she's supposed to be back on Monday...”
He shrugged. “Tell 'em she's sick. I fucked off in school all the time and turned out fine. Guess I'm lucky nobody asked any questions in those days.”
I wanted to burst out laughing. Was he fucking serious? Whatever he'd been when he was young, he was an outlaw biker now!
A killer. A thief. A brute.
All the evil things it was hard to visualize when he was right in front of me, looking sexier than any criminal should.
Somehow, I held the crazed, panicky laugh in my chest. Good thing too because if it got started, I knew it wouldn't stop until I was paralyzed on the floor in tears.
“Brass, she's fourteen years old. Her father just died from cancer and her older sister led her right into a pack of –“
Devils. Fuckers. Assholes.
No words were adequate for how the Grizzlies treated us. And I still got angry and sad every time I thought about daddy too.
Leaving us with nothing would've been better than what he'd dropped in my lap – why the fuck did he think I'd have any idea how to handle this? Why did he die painting a target on his daughters' backs?
Because the cancer rotted his brain. Or maybe desperation did. I didn't like that answer. It filled my skull with cruel cement.
Brass threw his feet on the floor and straightened up. “What were you gonna say? You don't have to self-censor here, babe. I've heard it all. You think calling me a rude name's gonna hurt my widdle feelings?”
Bastard. He made a puppy dog face and grinned. I shrugged, guessing it was better than having him jump on me and throw his han
d on my throat for the stifled insult.
“We both know what happened,” I snapped. “There's no need to resort to name calling. I don't need to sink to your level.”
He laughed. A low, rich, smoky baritone sound, older sounding than his face suggested.
“Sure wish you would. Might help you blow off some fucking steam. Christ, I know I need to. If you think I like having to deal with this shit – hostages – you're wrong. Deadly fucking wrong. I'm doing the best I can to make my brothers happy and keep you alive.”
He had me there. After bringing us here, I was starting to believe his bullshit, and that made me hate him even more. I shot daggers out of my eyes as I looked at him, annoyed that his face looked too handsome to cut.
If only he could've been a total gargoyle...feeding the hatred would've been so much easier.
Damn it, why did he look so different from most of the other guys in his club? Rude, savage bikers who acted like demons shouldn't wear the faces of angels.
“You've done enough. I don't like this crap, but I'm not an idiot, Brass. I won't go out. I won't say anything unless I get your permission, sir.” I practically stuck out my tongue when I said it. “But Jackie...I can't give up on her when she hasn't gotten started yet. She needs an education.”
Brass stood up, growling. He moved fast, pacing the room like a frustrated tiger in its cage. I wondered if he was about to kick over the brand new coffee table next to my legs when he stopped next to me and reached for his wallet.
“Here!” Crumpled up bills landed at my feet. “It's all I got 'til the next share comes in from the club. Pull the girl outta school and buy her some fucking lessons. Five hundred's gotta get something. I can't fucking risk her breaking down and tattling to teacher. You'll listen to these lessons and make sure she doesn't say anything she shouldn't.”
I was frozen in disbelief for at least a solid minute, looking at his dark, angry eyes. Jesus.
He was very, very good at making it hard to hate him, especially when the way he'd given me the money should've made it easy. Hell, five hundred dollars didn't make a dent in the two million we'd lost.