Hard Roads

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Hard Roads Page 6

by Lily White


  I pulled her from the bed, walking her into the bathroom and turning on the water in the shower until it was warm, but not hot. She stepped in and I watched the water slip over her skin, rinsing away the dirt, blood and other evidence of our day together. She wouldn’t look at me, just kept her face turned up into the spray as I leaned against the wall staring her down. When she was done, her hand slammed down to turn off the water and she looked at me, still dripping and even more beautiful than I’d seen her before.

  Pushing up from the wall, I grabbed a towel from the hanger and spun my hand in the air to indicate for her to turn around. She didn’t question me or complain, just spun her body so that I could wrap the towel around her hair to dry it off. Once that was done, I ran the towel down her body, making sure to dry certain areas more the others. An indignant huff burst from her lips and I chuckled to know that she was on to me.

  “Okay, Munch. You’re dry. Now, go to bed. We have a long day tomorrow.”

  When she turned back around, fury was obvious behind the grey of her eyes. “Where are you taking me and why?”

  I looked at her long and hard before answering, “Don’t matter and don’t matter. You’re going there because I’ve been told to bring you there. That’s all you need to know. Be a good girl and listen.”

  I wasn’t havin’ it again. If she started to act up, I was going to tie her back down and knock her ass out with something. Nothing good would come from any more bullshit. Starting tomorrow, she needed to learn to listen if she knew what was good for her. I was a softer man when it came to women, but the men I was taking her to wouldn’t be. They were reckless assholes that cared about themselves and their club. The. End. Nothing else mattered, and definitely not the daughter of a Prez who had worked a few too many shady deals.

  She walked back into the room without further complaint and a sigh of relief escaped my lips as I watched her lie down. She started to curl into a ball, but I grabbed her ankles, pulling her legs out straight and grabbing more rope from my bag to tie her in place. It didn’t matter that I would be up most of the night watching her, I knew this girl would attempt escape if the opportunity presented itself. I had to sleep for at least an hour or two, so tying her down was the only advantage I had at the moment.

  She scowled down at me as I wrapped the rope around her ankles and I smiled before ducking my head down to secure the rope to the feet of the bed. When I popped back up, she had her face buried into the pillow and I was fine with the sudden lack of communication. I couldn’t allow myself to feel anything for her because she wasn’t mine to keep. I was there for pick up, transport and drop off. Once that was accomplished, my debts were paid.

  …

  Three hours and about 15 lines of blow later and I was fidgeting in my seat sucking down the little bit of Jack I still had sloshing around in the bottle. Holly had barely moved in her sleep and I raised an eyebrow wondering if she was really out or just a master at faking it. My eyes traveled the length of her naked figure and my dick started to swell in my pants at the sight. That was the problem with blow. It was like Viagra to me. It sent the blood to my cock, but refused to let me release. Good for the woman I was riding, but bad for me when I finally had to give up when she couldn’t take anymore of the pounding.

  Before long, my hand was over my pants, attempting to massage away the hard on that was steadily growing. Visions of the little bitch moaning and groaning played through my head and I couldn’t help but consider the idea of round two. When the bottle was finally empty and when I’d snorted up another line, I pushed myself up and in her direction, only to fall back into the chair as soon as my phone rang.

  “Fuck.” It was excellent timing for Holly, but not so much for me. Grabbing the phone from my bag, I checked the caller I.D. to see Big John’s number flashing up at me.

  Hitting the little green button, I brought the phone to my ear, my mouth poised to say ‘hello’, but John beat me to the punch.

  “JD, where the fuck is the girl?”

  “Well, hey to you too, man. Considering you’re calling me at a fucked up hour. Where the fuck do you think she is?”

  “Don’t fuck with me, JD. I ain’t in the fucking mood to deal with your mouth at the moment. I don’t give a fuck who your daddy is anymore. You’ve already got the only pass I’ll give you because of him. Don’t expect any more favors. Where the fuck is she?”

  “She’s sleeping.” I kept my tone calm, even though all I could imagine was reaching through the phone and throttling the 250 pound bastard.

  “Good. You’re going to be stopping at Diablo’s joint tomorrow. I want you to wait there for Gunner. He’ll be taking the bitch from you for the rest of transport.”

  I was instantly on my feet, my hand gripping angrily over the phone. “What the fuck do you mean, I’ll be handing her off to Gunner? She ain’t a problem and you won’t be using this as a way to extort another fucking mission out of me. Once the drop is done, I’m out, just like we agreed before I came down here.”

  “JD, I have all the respect in the world for your dad, but you need to remember he’s 6 feet under the dirt and he can’t save your ass no more. You need to be careful what you fucking say to me. You got that?”

  I didn’t respond. I wanted the fucker buried deeper than my father already was, but with a 100 man MC backing him, there was no way I was gonna make that happen. All I wanted was to be out.

  “Good, now that you’ve learned to shut that fucking hole in your face, I’ll explain. The bitch has a bounty on her head. Not only do we have a score to settle with the Joker, but the Demons want her as well, not to mention two drug networks that he’s fucked over. Asshole has lost his damn mind and I got word that they know who has her. Not sure how the fuck that happened, but we’re working on finding out. Whoever the fuck opened his mouth is gonna be a dead man as soon as Gunner finds him.”

  I shook my head. Gunner was a lethal son of a bitch. Always armed and itching for a fight, he had more kills under his belt than scars on his face and body. Considering he was about as disfigured as they come, that was saying something. Ever since the motherfucker lost his girl, he’s fought like he’s begging to meet the reaper. The only problem is there wasn’t a son of a bitch out there that could take him. A thought came to me and like a dumbass, I decided to open my mouth.

  “Well, that would explain the sudden shoot out I got to take part in on my way to this dive. By any chance, did Scooter ever make it back to the chapter house?”

  The seconds of silence answered my question before John could. “No. I thought he was with you.”

  Fuck.

  “I sent him home after he almost cost us the girl with his fucking stupidity. She laid him out flat with a tire iron and I got to chase her ass down because of it. Gave him his bike to ride back when I took her car heading towards the truck that was left for me near the border.”

  Seconds of silence turned into minutes until the sound of Big John’s fist could be heard crashing into whatever objects he could find. “Are you fucking with me, JD? Tell me you’re fucking with me.”

  “I ain’t fucking with you man. I’m too pretty for your fat ass.” Yeah, sometimes the sarcasm dripped out before my brain could stop it. The small cut didn’t seem to bother him though. He was too fixated on the fact that one of his brothers hadn’t reported back to camp.

  “Be at Diablo’s tomorrow. You hear me? Don’t fuck this up.”

  The phone went dead and I threw it on the desk, knocking the mirror and my last lines onto the floor.

  Looking back at Holly, I realized that this little girl’s life was about to get seriously fucked up, but it wasn’t my score to settle. Her daddy had apparently left her in one hell of mess and there was no way I would get involved. My freedom was so close and there wasn’t a damn thing I’d let happen that could fuck it up.

  Settling back in my chair, I continued looking at her until my eyes were too fucking tired to stay open any longer. Reaching into my bag, I g
rabbed a pair of cuffs I’d also brought for the job. After climbing into bed beside her, I locked one cuff around her bound wrist and one over my wrist. She was a shifty bitch and couldn’t be trusted, which, oddly, only made me like her more.

  Chapter Eight

  Holly

  Almost immediately when I woke up, I tried to pull my arm to myself, but found that it was attached to a 200 pound dead weight in the bed next to me. Cracking open my eyes, I blinked him into focus, studying the features of his face before looking down to admire the strong cut of his muscles along his chest and abdomen. He still had his jeans on and I was thankful for that. Memories of the night before flooded my thoughts and a small shiver ran along my skin to remember the three fucking orgasms the man had forced through me.

  No. I don’t feel shame for what I did and if you want to judge me for it, you need to take a look in the mirror and think of your own transgressions in life before you do. When you grow up in a MC, it isn’t easy to forget that women have a strange hold over men. I’ve seen too many fucking fights over some club bitch that wanted to play the brothers against each other. Men can’t use their brain when their blood is in their cock and I was attempting to take advantage of that fact with JD. It didn’t matter that I hated him. I ended up hating every other man after I’d fucked him, I didn’t see the difference in hating the man beforehand either. It just saved me the in-between part and the heartache of being betrayed in some way.

  Unfortunately, however, it didn’t work. Even drunk and freshly fucked, he wasn’t stupid enough to untie me.

  My bladder screamed suddenly and I rolled over wishing I could go to the bathroom. Rolling back in his direction, I tried to hold it, but the more I moved, the worse it became. Within minutes I was squeezing my legs together, terrified that something was going to slip out. Not able to take it any longer, I reached over and shook him. He groaned and raised his hand like he was swatting away a fly. I shook him again and on the second try, I got him to say some mumbled phrase that wasn’t exactly English. My bladder screamed again and that was it, I slapped him on the shoulder. “Wake up!”

  He stood up almost immediately, his cuffed wrist dragging me across the bed with him. I reached out to grab the blanket to keep from landing on the floor. It didn’t work and when I hit the carpet, a little bit of pee trickled out and I yelped when my shoulder was slammed into the ground.

  “Fuck, JD! Stop!”

  He looked down at me, comprehension settling into his eyes about where he was. Sitting down, he scowled down on me, bringing his free hand to rub at his eyes. “What the fuck, Munch? You don’t wake a man up by hitting him. I was about to swing on your little ass.”

  My feet were still tied to the base of the bed, so I was half lying on the ground with my legs held up and hooked over the mattress. “Could you please cut me loose? I seriously need to pee. I’m about to piss all over the fucking carpet!”

  He laughed as he stared down at me and the sound was rough from sleep. His hair stuck out in all directions. When he smiled, the corner of his mouth crinkled, a small dimple flashing on his cheek. He had a boy-like quality to him that would be deceiving if you didn’t know the son of a bitch that he really was.

  “Well, I don’t know. Looks like you got yourself into another fucked up situation. I’m not sure I should help you out.” Even rough from sleep, his voice was a gentle growl, laced at the edges with humor. I wanted to fucking slap him for still being able to sound hot as fuck when he was making fun of me.

  “Please, JD. I’m about to blow. I’m not kidding.”

  Maybe it was the pained expression on my face or maybe it was the fact that I was in a position that forced me to let go of my bitchy attitude towards him, but he didn’t argue again. Reaching down, he pulled me back up to the mattress before climbing off to retrieve his knife while still holding his one arm in my direction where we were bound together with cuffs. When he turned back around he laughed to see me lying stock-still and perfectly straight, doing everything I could to not lose control of my bladder.

  By the time he’d unlocked the cuffs and cut the tethers at my feet, I eased myself off the mattress and hightailed it into the bathroom, but when I went to shut the door a large hand reached out, preventing the door from closing.

  Sitting down on the seat I looked up at a 6’4” biker with his arms crossed over his chest, leaning up against the opposite wall.

  “Oh, hell no, JD! Get the fuck out so I can use the bathroom!” I was practically screaming at this point. There was no way I was going to pee in front of him. I had a shy bladder and it hurt more to know I was in an area where I could pee yet couldn’t let loose because of the extra person in the room.

  “Nope. Sorry, Munch. I’m staying. Hurry up and pee and then we’ll walk out of here.” He was grinning as he spoke and I jumped when my bladder started to let loose regardless of his presence. My eyes closed out of irritation and the cramping in my abdomen was starting to resemble a stabbing pain. I had to go with or without the asshole standing in front of me.

  When I’d finished, I was absolutely mortified. Sure, I have no problem fucking the guy, but somehow that felt less personal than having to pee in front of him.

  Standing up, I wordlessly followed him into the other room and sat down on the bed watching as he packed up miscellaneous clothes and random stuff scattered throughout the room.

  “Where are we going?” My words came out on a bare whisper. I was too afraid of finding out what he planned to do with me.

  He half smiled in response, but his expression quickly returned to something bleak and angry within seconds. “I thought I told you it didn’t matter.”

  “It’s my life. It matters to me.”

  As soon as the words left my mouth, he froze. He didn’t look up at me, just stopped shoving things in the bag for a few moments before suddenly coming to life again and continuing packing up. “You’re going to Diablo’s. Gunner will pick you up from there.”

  “Gunner? So you are with Hell’s Rebellion. Why the fuck would Big John send Gunner? This isn’t a job for a VP. Who the fuck is Diablo?”

  “You don’t know when to shut up, do you?” He finally looked up at me, pain hidden behind the amber color of his eyes. After placing his bag down on the chair, he took a step towards me. Reaching out, he grabbed the rope tied around my wrists and pulled me into him. The heat of his body rolled over my breasts and I sucked in a breath, suddenly remembering how this man could make me feel. I still hated him, but I was cursed with a body that didn’t care what my mind thought. If he could make me feel good, I wanted him.

  A long sigh escaped his lips before he said, “I’m going to tell you this because it might save your life. The men you are going to see have it out for your daddy…”

  I looked up at him instantly, my eyes wide with shock. What the fuck had my father done that would make Hell’s Rebellion want me? They used to be friends, partners even, before Torch died. Even after Big John took over, the two clubs had always been on somewhat friendly terms.

  “I don’t understand.”

  “Ever since the Saint died, your daddy’s been doing some crazy shit. He’s been making deals that he couldn’t pay and having people killed that didn’t deserve to die.” His hand reached up and smoothed the hair away from my face. “I’m afraid there’s a bounty on your head, beautiful. So, I’m kind of glad it was me that got to you first. Two cartels and another club are looking for you as well.”

  I was completely silent as I attempted to process what he was telling me. “So what are they going to do with me?” I looked down at his chest, my eyes focused on his tan skin as I attempted to hide the tears that started to fall.

  He sighed again, letting go of me and walking back towards his bag. “Use you as bait. Their issue isn’t with you. It’s with the Joker. Most likely, he’ll have to pick you up personally if he wants you back.”

  Tears fell harder. Normally I wasn’t the type to cry, but his words were a punch to the ch
est. I didn’t know what hurt worse: the thoughts of how I was going to be tortured and killed or the fact that, regardless of what they did to me, my father wouldn’t care enough to show up. My father didn’t give a shit about me. I was the worst choice for bait.

  “So what will they do with me if he doesn’t show?” My words were spoken so low that even I could barely hear what I’d said. I didn’t think I’d said them loud enough for him to hear and I decided not to repeat my question. It hurt too much to ask.

  Seconds passed, thick silence wrapping around us and filling the room. I watched him zip up the bag and throw it on the bed. He looked at me, long and hard, a grimace spreading over his lips. “That isn’t up to me. But I doubt the Joker is going to let his little girl get killed.”

  And there was the stab to the stomach.

  “Why are you telling me this?”

  “’Cause you asked and because you might live through this if you learn to keep your fucking mouth shut.” His feet hit heavily against the floor as he marched up to me and tilted my face up with his hand. “You know the life and the players, Munch. I’ve been a hell of a lot nicer than most of the brothers in the club. You can’t expect them to be as nice as me.”

  I laughed, a tiny burst of sound that escaped my throat before I could stop it. “You’ve hit me, you’ve left me trapped in a hot car, you’ve ripped off my clothes and you’ve fucked me…”

  “Exactly.” The corner of his mouth quirked. “I was being nice.”

  Letting go of my chin, he walked over to his bag, opening it again to pull out a black shirt. “Speaking of which, you need to be wearing something when we leave here. Your shorts and underwear are still in one piece but we need to cover up those tits. It will be impossible for someone not to notice us if those beauties are on display. He threw the shirt to me, but it just slid to the ground. I held up my bound wrists to remind him.

  “Well, that appears to be a problem. It’s too bad I can’t trust you enough to remove them.” In two steps, he was in front of me, bending down to grab the shirt. When he stood up, he slipped it over my head, leaving it loose over my arms. “There, we’ll just pretend you were cold so you tucked your arms in.”

 

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