by Jenika Snow
“You’ll do best to keep your mouth shut and do what I say.” He leaned over, and she heard him inhale the white line. But he wasn’t done yet and started cutting another one. “If I want you to wash my fucking laundry and cook my meals, you’ll be smart to jump right to it.” He leaned over at snorted the next line. She moved over to the end table, her bare feet making no sound on the stained and aged hardwood floor. Reaching out, placing her thumb and forefinger on the edge of the blade, she quietly slid it off the table. Her pulse filled her ears, and she swore she could hear the blood rushing through her veins. Her vision narrowed, and all she could see was Phillip in front of her. What was she actually planning on doing? Killing him? Watching him bleed out? God, this wasn’t like her. Before she could place the blade back on the table he turned, and his gaze zeroed in on the razor she held.
“You little fucking cunt.” He charged forward and brought his fist across the side of her head.
Stumbling back, Adrianna had to brace her hand on the wall again. Blood filled her mouth, and she started choking on it as it slid down the back of her throat.
“What are you going to do, fucking slice my neck?” He charged forward, but something inside of her snapped. She saw red, tightened her hold on the blade, and waited until he was close enough.
“You piece of shit asshole.” The words tumbled out of her mouth at the same time she blindly swung her arm out. Right now she was acting on instinct, not able to focus on anything except surviving. The next sequence of events happened in a blur. She saw the blade go into his flesh and felt his warm blood gush out of him. He swung out at her again, but she ducked and moved. He clutched at his throat, stumbled into the wall, and left a trail of blood in his wake. He started gurgling out his buddies’ names, but they didn’t move. Adrianna didn’t waste any more time, didn’t run to the back room to grab her meager belongings. She ran out the front door just as a flash of lightning raced through the sky, and seconds later a crack of thunder echoed around her. She ran fast and hard, and when the rain started down pouring and her feet ached from the pebbles being embedded in them, she kept pushing forward. It felt like her heart would explode from her chest, and all she kept thinking about was if she had killed him. It was the middle of the night, but she’d go to the bank in the morning, withdraw the little bit of money she had, and find out what her next course of action would be. But right now all she wanted to do was put Phillip, and the prison she had allowed herself to be trapped in for too long, as far behind her as her legs could carry her.
Chapter Two
Malice, Rock, and Ruin all pulled into the rest stop right outside of Fairview town limits. But the sky had opened up, and a horrendous downpour had come down, forcing them to pull off until it ended. Ruin had driven the van and followed behind him and Rock on their bikes. Rock and Ruin were sitting in the truck, and the music they had blasting way too fucking loudly for this hour could be heard even through the closed windows. Malice took out a joint from inside his cut, grabbed a lighter from his back pocket, and lit the end. Inhaling deeply and keeping the smoke in his lungs, he glanced around the deserted strip of road in front of him. He could see the small town of Fairview where The Brothers of Menace Utah charter was located, and saw the few streetlights from the distance. Exhaling the smoke, Malice brought the end of the joint to his mouth again and took another drag. The ride had been long, the road smooth and easy, but he needed this little bit of chemical relaxation.
His bike was parked beside a post that supported the awnings, and he leaned back against it. The wind had the rain moving toward the right, and then a gust pushed it to the left. Right when he was about to take another drag from the joint he saw a flash of white about ten feet away. He stood and took a step away from his bike. Narrowing his eyes and trying to see what in the hell he was looking at, he realized it was a girl walking out in the middle of this shit. He glanced at the van, saw Rock look up at him at the same time, and he pointed over at the girl. Rock elbowed Ruin, and then all three of them were staring at her. She came closer, but it was clear she was out of it. She had to be drunk or high, because who in their right mind walked in this kind of weather in what she was wearing? He stubbed out the joint and watched her more closely. Normally he would have not given two shits about seeing some chick walking in the pouring rain with no shoes on, a tank top, and a pair of cutoff shorts. But for some reason he couldn’t stop looking at her, and this strange sensation traveled through him. It was this protective feeling, one that was fierce and strong, and something far different from how he had ever felt, even with Molly. But this was a ludicrous feeling, and one he wasn’t about to fucking delve into. He should turn away, walk back over to his bike and get on, storm be fucked, but he didn’t move.
She moved closer, as if she was coming right at him. The sound of the van doors opening and closing told him Ruin and Rock had gotten out. The girl didn’t look up, but seemed dazed. Her dark hair was plastered to her head, and the long strands stuck to her shoulders. He could see her lips moving now that she was closer, but as if she sensed him watching her, she stopped and looked up at him. For a second all they did was stare at one another, and even from several feet away he could see her eyes were this light blue. He raked his gaze down her body. She shivered, and the rain poured down her body, soaking the white shirt so that it was transparent and her nipples were visible. But what had him curling his fingers into his palms and had rage burning brightly inside of him, was the fact the side of her face had a nasty bruise on the side. Her bottom lip was split, and he had no doubt her face probably had been covered in blood, but the rain had since washed it away.
She looked over at Ruin and Rock who stood right beside him now. “I need help.” Her voice was low, but he heard her over the turbulent weather. She took a step forward, stumbled, and he knew she was going down. He moved quickly toward her and caught her before she hit the ground. Water dripped into his face, but he was riveted to the sight of her slate blue colored eyes and couldn’t concentrate on anything but her. But he could tell she was passed out. He was up and off the ground with her in his arms and striding toward the van.
“Malice, man, what the fuck are you doing?” Ruin asked.
Malice didn’t answer, just carried her to the back. Before he could open the door Rock was there doing it for him. He shifted so he had one knee on the floor of the van, and then he was setting her down on the backseat and pushing the wet strands of her dark hair away from her face.
“Damn, someone beat the shit out of her,” Ruin said from behind him, and Malice snapped his head to the side and glared at him over his shoulder.
“Shut the fuck up, Ruin.”
The other biker held up his hands. “What in the hell are you going to do with her?”
Malice moved back so he wasn’t in the van any longer and stared at her. But after only a second he grabbed a blanket that was in the very back of the vehicle and draped it over her. “We’ll take her to the clubhouse.”
“I know Marx has a guy that comes in and helps patch up the members. The guy has some kind of medical background.”
“Yeah, she definitely needs to be seen, but you think it’s good bringing some random woman back to a clubhouse that we aren’t even patched in with? I mean they need a heads-up at the very least.” Ruin stepped up closer and leaned in so he could get a better look at her. “Especially with all the shit going down with the police and the church people.” Ruin turned and looked at Malice. “We know nothing about this chick.”
Malice made a low sound in his throat. “I don’t fucking care. I’m not about to leave her when she clearly needs to be looked at with all these fucking wounds, and because she asked for help.” He shut the door and turned toward them. “I’ll call Marx and let him know the change of plans. Maybe he knows who she is and what might have happened.” He tilted his chin toward Rock. “Can you call Lucien and let him what the fuck is going on? I don’t want him finding out second hand from Marx, or any of the other membe
rs of the Fairview charter.”
Rock nodded and reached inside of his cut for his cell. The rain had stopped, but Malice wasn’t going to wait until it stopped completely before he headed to the clubhouse. He called Marx, let the biker know what was happening and that they were on their way toward them, and hung up. Rock was already off the phone and striding back toward him.
“Lucien’s been updated, and he said if we need him or any more members they can head up.”
Malice shook his head. “Let’s get her situated first, find out what exactly is going on, and if we even want to get involved.” Even after Malice said that he knew that there was no way he wasn’t going to get involved.
“Come on.” Without waiting for them to respond Malice was striding toward his bike and then straddling it. Rock moved beside him and got on his bike, and then Ruin climbed in the van and started it. Malice started his engine, and then Rock was doing the same. They headed out of the rest stop and toward town, and all he could think about was that young girl no more than her early twenties staring up at him with her blue eyes. She had seemed sad and lost, and pleaded with only the softness of her eyes that she needed his help. How in the fuck could Malice turn his back on that? He might be one fucked up asshole on the best of days, and had hurt plenty of bad men in his life, but he wasn’t a bastard, especially not to a woman that was hurt and needed him.
They drove though the town, which was still fast asleep, and Malice kept his eyes on the road, but was aware of his surroundings. He didn’t see anyone else walking around, and didn’t pass any vehicles. Whoever had hurt her wasn’t looking for her, at least not right now, or they were doing it on the down low. The passed the small motel that was the center of Fairview and continued to the outskirts of town. Once they took a left and started making their way through the thick forest that surrounded the small Utah community, Malice realized anyone that wanted to give this clubhouse shit would really have to go out of their damn way to do it. But even though he could see the reason why the church going folk might be a little pissed at the fact there was a hardcore MC selling females for a little side action, this was their business. They weren’t hurting anyone, the women were consenting, and everyone got paid. It was the way shit worked, and if they couldn’t handle it they could shove their issues up their ass.
The Fairview charter’s clubhouse gate came into view after about a quarter mile of driving on the long stretch of country road. They pulled to a stop, and once the prospects opened the gate they drove up the driveway that led to the front of the clubhouse. Floodlights were stationed around the perimeter of the property, making every possible point of entry visible. A massive garage had been erected off to the side, and classic rock blasted from the open bay doors. At least twenty guys were outside, either working on bikes, smoking joints, or just bullshitting. But they all seemed to stop what they were doing and watch them approach
Malice pulled his bike to a stop, Rock came up beside up him, and then Ruin cut the van engine. Malice removed his helmet and dismounted, and Rock did the same. Before he could make his way toward the girl in the back of the van he saw Marx striding out of the clubhouse, He had this hard look on his face, and his gaze was trained on the van. Malice strode forward and stopped when he was a couple inches from him.
“Hey, brother.” They did the half-hug thing, clapped each other on the back, and then both turned toward the van. Ruin had already opened it, but before the other man could reach in and get her, which was clear he was about to do, Malice was moving forward. “I got her, Ruin.” He didn’t miss the confused look on the other biker’s face, but right now he didn’t want to even try to explain what in the hell was going on with him and this woman.
“Come on, let’s get her inside,” Marx said, and just like that everyone else went back to what they were doing.
Malice followed Marx into the clubhouse, past all the club pussy that was draped over other members, and continued to the back of the building. Marx pushed open one of the doors and gestured for Malice to enter. Once he had her on the bed he forced himself to take a step back. Everyone was silent for a few seconds, and he knew he wasn’t the only one that had his gaze locked right on the frail woman on the bed. He ran a hand over his eyes, feeling really damn tired all of a sudden. He shoved his hands in the front pockets of his pants and raked his gaze over her body. She was pretty much covered with the blanket, but her bare feet poked out from the end of the material. The soles were scraped, and there was dried blood now covering them since the rain wasn’t washing it away. He looked back at her face, and all that anger rose up once more like a violent wave.
“You know who she is?” Rock was the one to ask Marx
Malice looked over at him and saw the other man shake his head.
“No, but that doesn’t mean anything. She could be a wanderer from one of the towns over, or live in the debilitated part of Fairview. Believe it or not, even these country towns have shitty areas.”
No, Malice knew about that. Hell, River Run had beautiful parts, but then there were businesses less favorable in the downtown area. “Lucien knows what’s going on, but he’s holding back until we give him word that we need back-up.” It wasn’t that the three of them needed the support of their charter, because they were with Marx’s crew, and had been close with this charter for a decade. It was more of sticking with the brotherhood and just being there. Also, if things did go bad, meaning Malice found out who had done this to her and dished out the retaliation, his crew would be there for him. They’d be the ones handing him a cloth to wipe off his bloody knuckles.
“What the fuck are we supposed to do with a woman that is beat up to shit?” Marx ground out and moved over to the bed. He stood over her, but didn’t say anything for several seconds. “We already got the fuckin’ church people down our backs with the pussy for sale, picketing right in front of our clubhouse, and the cops trying to bust us for bullshit reasons. I certainly don’t need you bring this shit to our door.”
Malice was leaning against the wall with his arms crossed and one foot braced on the wood behind him. “Listen, there wasn’t any way I was going to leave her out there. She’s obviously running from someone, most likely an ex-boyfriend or husband given what her face looks like. I can be a bastard, but in these kinds of matters I am not going to look the other way.”
Marx exhaled loudly and ran his hand over his long, thick white beard. “No, I’m not saying you should have left her, but shit.” He then proceeded to run both hands over his long hair. “She’s young, really fucking young.
“She could be my kid’s age.”
They all turned and looked at Beady, who was sitting in one of the chairs with a joint between his lips. “Some motherfucker beat the living hell out of her.” Beady looked over at Malice. “She say anything to you before she hit the floor?”
Malice nodded and looked back over at her. “She just asked for my help.”
“Well, whatever bastard did this to her needs to get a lesson on how to treat women.” Beady stood and walked over to her. The other biker might be one of the meanest assholes around, but he also had a daughter this girl’s age, and that had to hit a little too close to home. He reached out and brushed a piece of her still damp hair away from her face. “She’s a pretty little thing. Damn shame someone thought it right to do this to her.”
Malice didn’t miss the way Beady clenched his hand at his side. Hell, it was the same thing Malice was doing—had been doing since he had seen her. He couldn’t explain what it was about her that called to the protective male part of him, but seeing her hurt, knowing someone had lifted their hand and beaten her had this homicidal rage filling him. That anger would soon explode and come from him like a murderous demon intent on blood. He couldn’t help how he felt, and knew that even trying to figure what the fuck was going on with him was fruitless. He’d get answers from her when she was awake, and then he would have to go out and do some hunting. Vengeance was what he was good at, and the retaliatio
n he was going to deliver to who had harmed her would be sweet and dark pleasure.
Chapter Three
Adrianna jolted up with a start. Her heart raced, sweat dotted her forehead, and she couldn’t catch her breath. The dream that had woken her had been horrible, because it had been too real. In fact, it had felt like she was still living it, like she was back at Phillip’s house, fighting for her life, yet knowing she was going to die. But then she had seen that razor blade go into his neck, felt the gush of sickening warm blood cover her, and then fled because she hadn’t been able to stand the sight of him dying at her feet. She rubbed her hands over her face, felt the sweat that coated her skin, and breathed out. Dropping her hands to the bed she was on, she looked around. Everything was still so fresh in her mind concerning Phillip, but after that everything was a slight blur. She remember leaving his house, of the rain coming down fast and hard over her, and then of seeing a man standing there watching her. The man’s face eluded her, but she remembered his presence, and this sense of danger, but also protection that came from him.
Her face throbbed, her ribs ached, and her feet stung. After pushing away the blanket that covered her, she glanced down at herself. Her clothing was still a little damp, and she was at least thankful that whoever had taken her to this place had at least kept her clothing on. She had a few bruises on her legs, and a look at her feet showed that the bottoms of them were pretty torn up. She grabbed the edge of her shirt and looked at her side, and a nasty bruise covered her ribs. Adrianna knew her face was probably one ugly sight given how painful it felt. Looking around the room didn’t help her in gauging where she was, but she didn’t feel fear from being at this unusual place. At least that was something to help somewhat ease her already rampant emotions. The room she was in was pretty basic. There was the two person bed she was currently on, a small scarred and old looking desk and chair in the corner, a dresser that also looked like it had seen better days, and a few posters that showed motorcycles and half naked women on them.