It’s so quiet it’s jarring, and I wonder if the room they hold church in is soundproofed. I also wonder if I can get Sebastian to sneak me some audio recording equipment that I can install in there at some point, so I make a mental note to ask him if it’s possible.
The new leadership of this club’s chapter are young and more than likely technologically savvy—notably, Saint, who always seems to have a device attached to his hand—so it wouldn’t surprise me if they sweep the room for listening devices before they hold their meetings.
Then again, they don’t even have a front gate, so maybe I’m giving them too much credit.
I walk as softly as I can down the hall toward Savage’s office. I move past it at first, stepping into the empty bar and looking around the corner into the diner. Lola’s behind the counter talking to one of the bitchy sweet butts that like to follow me around—Chastity, I think?—but otherwise, this place is a ghost town.
Moving back down the hall, I stop in front of the office door and test the handle. It’s unlocked, which shouldn’t surprise me but still does, and I step inside, leaving the door cracked just enough that I can hear if anyone’s coming down the hall or the meeting or church or whatever lets out.
There’s a closed laptop on the desk, but it’s more than likely password-protected, so I start with the desk. I pull open the drawers, rifling through as silently and quickly as I can, but there’s nothing notable outside of a couple of weapons shipment manifests like the one I got a glimpse of the other day.
Snapping a picture with my phone of each page, I shove them back in the drawers as I hear someone coming down the hall.
Shit.
Do I act like I’m supposed to be in here or hide?
I don’t decide fast enough, and the door’s being pushed open. My pulse is hammering in my skull, my body tense and ready for a fight, but everything deflates when I see it’s Gigi. Her eyes narrow in suspicion. There’s no love lost between her and the club, but I didn’t want to bring her into this. I wanted her to stay innocent up until the day we walk away, and I’m forced to confess everything.
Somehow, I think she’ll understand.
Now all of that’s out the window as she gives me a look filled with uncertainty. I can practically see all the walls that have started to crack around me going back up at record speed.
“What the hell are you doing in here?” she asks, folding her arms across her chest. I force myself not to look at her perfect tits and stay focused on her very distrustful face.
I step around her to shut the door, but someone else is coming down the hall, so instead, I pull her in and drop my lips to hers. It’s meant to be a quick kiss, one to distract from the fact neither of us should be here, but the second our lips touch, it’s like someone’s thrown gasoline on a spark, and she’s shoved up against the wall with her legs wrapped around me, and I’m ravaging the hell out of her mouth with my tongue.
It’s deliciously close to the night of the storeroom where she let me fuck her until my knees literally gave out, and I’d give anything to have a repeat performance of that right now.
If we were anywhere else, I’d push the issue, but given that we’re in Savage’s office with only minutes until church lets out and we’re caught, I rein myself in just enough to be aware of the footsteps passing by the office.
Once the coast is clear, I kiss her bruised lips one more time before stepping back and letting her legs drop back to the floor. She looks as flustered as I feel, and it makes a huge fucking grin break out on my face despite the circumstances.
“I don’t know why you’re smiling like that,” she huffs as she pretends to be offended, but her body’s reaction doesn’t lie. Her pupils are blown, her nipples are pointed right at me like a goddamn beacon, and her cheeks are flushed. I grab her hand and run it down my abs until it lands on the front of my jeans where my dick is so hard it aches.
“I’m smiling because you made me so hard it hurts,” I admit, unable to wipe the damn smile off my face.
Fuck, I want her.
“Stop trying to change the subject,” she snaps, but I’m onto her now. She wants me, too.
“Someday, you’re going to love me,” I tell her, stepping back into her personal space and running my fingers across her jaw. She leans into my touch and then stiffens as if she realizes what she’s doing. It only makes me more sure of what I said. “You might already, just a little,” I whisper against her ear and watch as she shivers.
“I’ll never love a biker.” She lifts her chin and stares at me with so much defiance in her eyes, I swear it makes me harder than I’ve ever been.
“Good thing I’m not only a biker then, isn’t it, little demon?” I say, wrapping a lock of her reddish-blond hair around my finger and twirling it while I wait for her to recover from the bomb I just dropped.
She blinks up at me. “What?”
I sigh and drop her hair but don’t move back, enjoying being pressed up against her entirely too much. I’m sure she can feel my dick pressing against her hip, but she’s pretending she can’t. I only smile wider. “It’s a lot to explain, but like I told you before, my name’s Connor. What I didn’t tell you is a while back, the ROC got on my radar, and I’ve got a personal score to settle with them. I’m here to do it.”
“So, you’re a cop?” she asks.
My laugh climbs up my throat and escapes before I can stop it. “Cops have too many rules to follow. Technically, I own a bodyguard business, but I’m not here to guard anyone. Well, except maybe you now. Whenever any of those fuckers get close to you, it makes me want to pull my knife out of my pocket and start indiscriminately stabbing.”
By now, the smile is long gone from my face, replaced by a sense of rage as I remember one of the older members being rough with her. If I saw that shit now, I can’t promise they’ll come away from the encounter alive.
“You’re a bodyguard?” Her eyebrows lift, and she looks me over in a new light. I let her sit with the information for a few seconds before I nod.
“This chapter of the ROC kidnapped a friend of mine’s wife a few years back on my watch. I can’t let that shit stand, so I’m here to correct the mistake.” My jaw tics as I think about how much it fucking sucked to fail. I wouldn’t fail this time.
Gigi looks thoughtful as her hand moves along my chest, almost like she’s petting me and not realizing what she’s doing. The movement stops, and she meets my eyes with a look of pure, fiery determination. “If you’re taking down the ROC, I want in.”
If I had any doubt Gigi was perfect for me before, it’s gone now. My little demon would be by my side when we rained hell down on this club. I couldn’t think of anything more poetic than to let her be the one to throw the match as we stood hand in hand and watched the place go up in flames.
"Girl, you're blushing." Lola laughs and tosses a drink umbrella at me. I have no idea where it came from since the club doesn't ever keep shit like that around, but I grin and open it up, tucking the little paper parasol behind my ear like a flower.
"Not so loud," I whisper, not wanting any of the members to overhear us and really not wanting any of the Cunt Club to know what we're talking about.
"If I didn't know any better, I'd say you screwed the new guy," Tiffany casually drops as she breezes by Lola and me where we're standing behind the bar. No one's in here drinking yet because it's still early in the day, but I have to make sure everything's stocked for tonight, and Lola agreed to help.
Tiffany's the third and last member of our group, and the two of them picked me over the Cunt Club, so we're cool like that.
I groan and set down the knife I've been slicing limes into wedges with. "Why are we talking about my sex life?"
Lola narrows her eyes and points an accusing finger at me. "So there is a sex life to talk about! I knew it."
Tiffany props her elbow onto the bar and rests her chin on it like she's settling in for a story. "We're gonna need deets. How long is-"
"
For fuck's sake," I growl, feeling my cheeks heat and knowing my face is turning red. Of course, Connor takes that exact minute to step behind the bar and wrap his arms around my waist like he doesn't care at all if people see us together. My eyes are closed tight, but I know it's him by touch alone, and that should disturb me, but it doesn't. I find it oddly comforting because apparently, I'm starved for affection. When his lips press against my neck, my entire body comes alive.
It seriously feels like pulses of electricity are shooting from where his lips touch my skin straight to my clit, and I have to clench my thighs together to keep from turning around and climbing him.
He straightens but doesn't let go of me, and I can tell he's as turned on as I am by the hard dick poking me in the ass. I get the impression that he likes getting me this turned on in front of other people. Maybe it's his way of making me his like he said he would, but I don't know how I feel about it yet. There isn't really a reason to keep our whatever it is we have going on a secret, but I've never been in a relationship before, and I don't know if that's what is happening here, and if it is, I don't know how to deal with it.
"Morning, ladies. What are we talking about?" He drawls with a cocky-as-hell grin on his face like he damn well knows we were about to talk about his dick and how massive and pierced and flawless it is.
"Gigi was about to give us every dirty detail of your-" What fresh hell is this?
"I've got something to show you," I cut Tiffany off with the meanest glower I can manage while my entire body is humming in Connor's proximity. If I'm honest with myself, his confession yesterday unlocked the chains around my heart. They're dropping off faster than I'm ready to think about, so I'm ignoring all the thoughts and trying to stay in the moment instead.
I'm not all that good at it, but I figure I'll fake it 'til I make it.
I'm really not good at all this girly shit. I've never been able to be a normal girl for a minute with normal crushes and normal relationships, which means when Connor looks at me with all sorts of dark intensity like he's picturing tying me to his bed and not letting me go until I fully submit to what's happening between us, I don't know whether to admit that maybe I don't actually hate that idea or not.
I'm definitely not thinking about what might happen if I give in and tell him I want more. Nope. Not at all.
He spins me in his arms so that we're face-to-face, and the way he's looking at me makes me think he knows exactly what I was thinking about. His grin gets wider the longer he stares, and it's all too easy to forget we're not alone back here.
"Damn," Tiffany says wistfully, and I break my stare off with Connor to see her fanning herself with her hand. "Hopefully, some of that sexual tension rubs off on me."
"Tell me about it," Lola agrees, and I'm just about done with their commentary. My cheeks are burning, and no doubt stained pink with this latest embarrassment. I was finding myself blushing more than I ever had before being around Connor. He brought it out in me, I guess.
A rough finger against my jaw tilted my face and attention back up to Connor's amused hazel eyes. "You wanted to show me something?"
"Yeah, her vagina," Tiffany calls from behind us, and I cringe so hard, but Connor cracks up along with the girls, and I decide it's more fun to laugh than die of embarrassment, so I let out a little chuckle of my own before shaking my head.
Connor raises his eyebrows. "You don't want to show me your vagina?"
I slap him in the chest with the back of my hand, and he grabs it and brings it to his lips, dropping a kiss to my wrist that makes me melt. "Can we please stop talking about my vagina? And saying the word vagina?"
Seriously. It's such an awful word.
Va-gin-a.
Ew.
"Okay, little demon. Where are we going?" Connor finally asks after he manages to stop laughing at me. He lets me step around him, and I shoot one last glare at my supposed friends before we leave the bar. His hand is still gripping onto mine, and a thrill shoots through me at the contact.
I hope he never lets go.
Fuck, this isn't smart, but now that I've acknowledged my feelings, those bastards won't go back into the neat box I kept them tucked away in. No, they want to be loud and right out front and center. They make me do stupid shit like grin like an idiot at every bit of attention Connor gives me, or my whole body tingle when he looks at me like I'm all he sees. They make me think I'm falling, and I hate them for it.
I can't fall for this guy. Right?
How moronic would I be to give in to that, especially when I can't even leave this place? Sure, Connor promised me he'd get me out, but in my experience, you can't trust promises. The day I actually walk out those front doors for the last time will be the day I fully give him my trust. Until then, I really need to tell my feelings to go fuck a cactus and make more of my decisions with my head instead of my dummy heart.
Completely forgetting he asked me a question, I lead Connor where we're going, but he pulls me to a stop. "You gonna tell me what we're doing?" His voice is a low whisper, almost a seductive purr that made a shiver run through my body. If I wasn't careful, I'd get lost in the trance of his words and find myself with damp thighs and nipples begging to be played with.
There are other things on the agenda that need to happen right now. We only have a short window of time to do them, so I clamped down on the sexual deviant my inner self appears to have decided to be and lowered my voice to match his. "I'm giving you proof."
We're almost to the door we need, so I tug him along behind me and pull the chain I wear around my neck up out of my shirt. The key on the end gleams in the low light, and the rusted metal puts up some resistance as I slide it into the lock on the handle.
Once I twist the handle, I gesture him inside before I glance both ways down the hallway and follow him, closing the door as quietly as possible. We stand in the dark, Connor's arms wrapped around my waist, and I cling to him in the small space that's pitch black. Neither one of us speaks, and I listen hard to be sure no one's about to come burst through the door after us.
When I'm sure no one's coming, I tuck the key back into my shirt. "Where'd you get that?" he asks, and I know I have to tell him because I really am on his side. I want this fucking club to burn, and I want to dance on the ashes.
A pang hits me when I think of Lola and Tiffany, or even Savage, Saint, Reaper, and Ruin. None of them have ever done anything but be kind to me, but this place as a whole is hell on earth, and it needs to be destroyed.
I push all that away.
"I stole it from Devil's desk the day he died," I confide quietly while slipping around him and running my hand along the back wall of the closet. "I always thought it was weird, you know? Having a lock on a closet door that seemed to lead to nowhere? I wanted to know what was in here."
Connor twisted around, but the space was so small, his shoulders almost touched the walls as he moved. "There's nothing in here."
I find the lever disguised as a crack in the wall and pull it, waiting for the sound of the wall shifting to shop before stepping forward. A cool breeze blows my hair back from my face, and Connor curses behind me.
As soon as I step inside, I flick on the lights and blink against the brightness. I remember the first time I saw this place, this basement of horrors the club kept top secret from everyone except its highest-ranking members. Suspecting the Reign of Chaos was into some dark shit was one thing, but seeing proof with your own eyes was another. That was the day I started keeping my mouth shut and spending more time watching and listening than mouthing off and fighting back.
That was the day I realized the only way I was getting out of here was if I bided my time and played shit smart.
"What the fuck…" Connor's voice trails off as he steps further into the space.
"It's like a real-life horror movie, huh?" I muse, my voice lighter than I actually feel. The first time I walked in here, this room gave me the fucking creeps like nothing else I've ever experienced. Now, I’m sort
of numb to it, but it’s still messed up. Cages line one side of the room, and they're big enough to fit a human crouched and laying down in. Chains are attached to the bars with what look to be collars of some sort on the ends. Drains are spaced evenly down the floor like the ground regularly gets hosed down from all the gruesome shit that happens down here.
I shiver while I try not to think about it. Being down here, I swear I can almost hear the agonized cries of the club's victims. All the trafficked women and people the club felt did them wrong that’ve been on the receiving end of the torment down here.
Connor steps up beside a metal table with what looks like tools used for torture spread out all over it. They're not well-kept, and there's definitely dried blood on more than one piece of equipment. I spot a hacksaw right next to a pair of pliers and decide I don't want to look any closer.
Instead, I study Connor. He looks pissed off with a tight jaw and furrowed brow, but he doesn't look as horrified as I feel. Maybe this isn't the first time he's seen something like this, but the first time I saw it, I went back to my room, threw up, and then took a boiling hot shower until my skin was bright red and hurting.
"How many victims have come through here?" he asks, but his gaze goes far off and unfocused like he's thinking about that friend of his who was taken by the ROC and what might've happened to them. "When I find out who used these tools on innocent women, I'm going to strap them to this table and show them exactly how it feels to be on the other side of a blow torch."
Yeah, I must've missed the blow torch when I looked at all the fucked up tools.
Connor's expression is dark as hell like he's losing the battle to keep his monster at bay. Up until now, I've only seen the charming, sweet, and only slightly obsessive guy he's been showing me. When I look at him now, I realize he carries a lot more darkness around inside that he doesn't let out very often.
It reminds me of that first time I saw him when I wanted to shine some light on his soul and see what happened. He's good at keeping that dark part of himself hidden, but it calls to me. I don't want him to hide it away, I want him to unleash it on all the bastards in this club who've hurt me and who've hurt other women because they thought themselves more powerful than we were.
Captive: A Bodyguard Romance (Hollywood Guardians Book 1) Page 8