HIS PROPERTY: A Dark Bad Boy Baby Romance (Iron Bandits MC)

by Zoey Parker

  I winced as Spike poured alcohol over my arm to clean the bullet wound. I had fought with him over getting the bullet out—all I wanted to think about was Michelle, and how to get her—but he pointed out that she might not like having a boyfriend with only one arm. If she even wanted me to be her boyfriend at all after all this shit went down.

  Lucky for me, Spike was an old pro at getting bullets out of body parts. Not really something to be proud of, but it came in handy. I closed my eyes and braced myself as he went in with the probe to find the bullet.

  “Stay still,” he murmured.

  I turned my head away and stayed as still as I could. It wasn’t the pain—pain I could handle. It was the feeling of something moving around inside my arm.

  “How many do you think we should take?” Slash asked.

  “Who’s we?” I opened one eye to look at him.

  “Sorry. I keep thinking like I’m going with you. It’s easy to forget.”

  “Even with your leg in a cast?” Spike asked.

  “I just wanna be part of the action,” Slash said. “I can’t help it.”

  “I know, brother. I hate that they’re the reason you can’t be with us. This is for you, too.” I closed my eyes again while the probe moved around in my muscle. I felt it hit something.

  “The bullet,” Spike said. I hated that he was taking so long to get it out. I had to get to Michelle. Part of me wondered if he was deliberately taking his time, not just because he didn’t want to hurt me. He wanted me to think things through, too.

  “To answer your question,” I muttered through clenched teeth, “I think we should go all-out. I wanna have as many of our guys outside as possible. I don’t know what Gareth’s gonna try once we get there.”

  “He might be luring us all into a trap,” Spike said. “Think about it. Wouldn’t it be great to get the whole club down there, then blow the place up or something?”

  “Would he blow up his own clubhouse?” I asked.

  “Like you always say, I wouldn’t put anything past him.” Spike’s voice was as tight as mine.

  “I don’t love the idea of going alone.” I winced as the bullet slid out of the tunnel it made in my bicep. “So I’ll take a dozen with me. They can sit across the street until I call them in.”

  “Don’t think I won’t be there,” Spike said, and I heard his grin even though I wasn’t looking at him. “You need somebody at your back.”

  “Thanks.” I waited while he stitched me up, and every stitch took me one step closer to Michelle. I’ll be there soon, baby. I’ll get you out of there.

  ###

  Once Spike had me patched up, I met in the main room of the clubhouse with the rest of my gang. They all looked ready to go. I was touched by how much danger they were willing to put themselves in for me. Michelle didn’t mean anything to them—only Pete, Joe, and Spike had ever met her.

  I remembered when she asked me questions in bed, about why I joined the club to begin with. I knew she didn’t understand the big deal, why I would want to be part of something that was so violent and dangerous. I wished she could see what I saw when I looked out over their faces. They were ready to go into battle for somebody they had never met, because of me. That was what it was all about. The unspoken brotherhood. I didn’t even need to ask. They were ready to go no matter what it meant for them.

  “I want a dozen of you with me on this,” I said.

  “Only a dozen?” I didn’t know who asked, but I nodded.

  “If we all ride in, he’ll know we’re coming from a mile away.”

  “He already knows we’re coming.” A few heads nodded.

  I sighed. I didn’t want to have to put it this way, but they were forcing my hand. “If this is some sorta trap, I don’t want all of you with me. I would rather leave a lot of you here. What if this is his way of getting us all in the same place, at the same time?”

  Now the looks on their faces were a little less confident. Now they looked like they wondered what the fuck they were getting themselves into.

  “I understand if any of you don’t wanna come along. I really do. This isn’t the sort of thing you signed on for. I get it. I don’t even expect any of you to come, honestly, and I know Michelle wouldn’t. So don’t feel like you have to.”

  All of them stayed there, just where they stood. “Whoever you want, we’re ready to go.”

  “Even if it means you might end up, I don’t know, blown up or something? I mean, this is Gareth we’re talking about. He’s psychotic. He sent one of his own men in here so that I would kill him. Who knows how far he would go?”

  “Don’t worry about it.” That was Pete, and he looked determined to rip somebody’s head off. “We’ve got your back. Just tell us what to do.”

  I nodded. “First…” I looked at Suzie, who stood behind the bar with a stunned look on her face. I handed her a large manila envelope. “I want you to take this to the police station. Don’t tell them who you are, or who I am, or anything about what’s inside.”

  “I don’t even know what’s inside,” she whispered.

  “Then it won’t be a problem.” I grinned at her, and she smiled through her fear. “Come right back here when you’re done, okay? Stay in contact with Slash. Let him know when you get to the station and when you’re leaving. If he doesn’t hear from you, he’s gonna send people after you. So make sure you keep him posted.”

  “I will.” There was so much in her face—I always had the feeling she liked me as more than a friend, and now that I was with Michelle there was no chance for that to develop. I felt sorry for her, but I knew her feelings wouldn’t stand in the way of doing what I asked her to do. She was loyal, just like everybody else there.

  “First,” I said, “let’s all have a shot.” She pulled out glasses, and I poured one for everybody in the room, including her. I raised my glass, and they joined me.

  “To the Lightning Bolts,” I said, and they echoed before we all tossed the whiskey down our throats.

  “All right,” I said, making sure my gun was loaded. “Let’s go.”

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Michelle

  “What’s happening?” I asked. I knew why they’d put me in a room without windows, and it wasn’t just because they didn’t want anybody knowing I was there. It made it impossible for me to know what was happening outside. I had no concept of time. Gareth wanted to keep me thrown off so I would be as pliable as possible. He had to use me to get to Eric. He might even ask me to tell him secrets. No way I would, but he didn’t know how strong I was. He didn’t even have the balls to face me after that first meeting earlier in the day.

  “Whaddya mean?” I had a new guard, too. This one was skinny, pale skinned and blond-haired. I thought he might even be an albino. He couldn’t have been older than sixteen.

  “I mean, what’s going on? With Eric. Is he coming or not? Have you heard? What are they planning to do if he shows up?”

  Albino shrugged. “I don’t know. They don’t tell me anything.”

  I nodded. Why would they? He was a kid. He probably wasn’t even a full member yet, the way Eric was at that age. Did he run around doing errands for them, they way Eric had with his club?

  “What made you join this club? I mean, this specific club over any of the others?”

  He looked at the floor, and I didn’t know if his silence meant he was ashamed or just thinking it over. He might never have thought about it, I realized.

  I wasn’t wrong either. “Because my dad was in it years ago. Before he died.”

  My heart went out to him, just a little bit. He was a kid without a father. “My dad died when I was young.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Yeah. Heart attack.”

  “Mine was in a gun fight with another club.”

  I stifled my sigh. Of course, he was. That was how these people died. It was rarely natural causes, I was sure. “Sorry to hear that. So you’re here because he was?”

  “Pretty m
uch. I wanted to follow in his footsteps.” That was laughable to me, but I bit the side of my tongue to keep the laughter at bay. He wanted to follow in his father’s footsteps, but his father was murdered. Talk about life goals.

  Was that who all these men were? People looking to find a little honor? This was their version of the Army, and the wars among them were seen as a natural part of that. I had never been so grateful for my normal, boring life.

  Would it ever be normal and boring again, though? I didn’t think so. Not if I didn’t stop feeling the way I did about Eric.

  Was I insane for still wanting the man who got me into this mess? It was likely. Before I met him, I had never been kidnapped. I was now on my second. Anyone with half a brain would run screaming. Not me. I guessed I didn’t have much sense.

  I couldn’t imagine being without him anymore, and that was that. I was in love with him. The more I thought about it, as the hours droned on, the surer I was.

  And he was going to come for me—I knew he would—and he might get himself killed for the effort. My heart ached at the thought, and I tried my best to push it away so I wouldn’t panic.

  Just then, a new face was in the doorway. “Here.” He handed Albino a paper bag. Just the smell of the food inside was enough to make me drool. I hadn’t expected to feel hungry—I thought I’d be too upset to want food. Once I smelled it, it was all I could think about.

  “Is there one in here for her?” Albino asked, jerking a thumb in my direction.

  “No. Why would there be?” The other man walked away, and I could have wept with frustration and hunger. If it was time to eat, it was either lunch or dinner. I’d been there way too long for it only to be lunch. It had to be evening already. Were they planning to starve me until Eric got there? I’d only had a cup of coffee before they came for me.

  Albino looked at me, and I saw embarrassment in his eyes. “Sorry about that,” he said, his voice low.

  “I’m so hungry,” I admitted. I didn’t want to look weak up until that point, but he was young enough and seemed impressionable enough that he might take pity on me.

  “Yeah, I know. I don’t think I’m supposed to let you eat, though.” He looked down at the bag, and I knew without being told that he felt guilty. He didn’t want to eat in front of me.

  “Please…just a bite? Or maybe a few fries? I smell fries.”

  He looked around, but there was nobody else in the small, cramped room to tell him what to do.

  “I never ate today,” I murmured. “I don’t know what time it is, but I know it’s gotta be late.”

  He took a deep breath and another look around. “Okay, fine, but you have to be quiet.”

  “I’ll be so quiet. Thank you.” He opened the bag and walked toward me.

  “Can I please feed myself?” I wiggled in the chair. “I mean, that’s kinda weird. What, are you gonna put your fingers in my mouth?”

  He frowned and looked back toward the door. I could have screamed in frustration. Make your own decisions, kid! And while you’re at it, find a new club, or a job, or something. Anything other than this.

  “If Gareth finds out, he’ll kill me,” he said.

  “He won’t find out,” I promised. “You can stand in front of me, so even if somebody walks past, they won’t know you untied me. Just a few fries. I swear that’s all I want. I’m starved.” I looked up at him, my eyes wide. I could use it when I needed to. It was like wearing a low-cut top to tend bar. I might not have gone through with seducing a customer, but a little flirting got me a better tip. Same thing with the wide eyes. Only I had never been in a life-or-death situation before this one. It had never meant more than it did when I looked up at the young, confused kid with the paper bag.

  “Okay. Just stay quiet. Got it? I don’t wanna have to hurt you.”

  I nodded, holding back a smirk. He was the only one of the club’s members I was sure I could take if push came to shove. It looked like he weighed even less than I did.

  He looked out the door, turning his head both ways to be sure nobody was coming. I didn’t think we’d be disturbed—if the men were eating, they were eating. They weren’t walking around, bullshitting.

  Then he came back to me and untied my hands. He couldn’t move fast enough as far as I was concerned. I was in genuine pain, my hands numb, my arms aching from the awkward angle. I immediately flexed my fingers, chafing my wrists, trying to rub some feeling back into my numb flesh. There were dark, angry circles below my hands. Deep impressions from the rope used to bind me. I wished I could tie up every single one of the jerks in that clubhouse, to see how they liked it.

  The kid stood in front of me to shield me from the doorway. “If anybody comes, put your arms behind your back.”

  “I will,” I promised, and he pulled the box of fries out of the bag. I took them greedily, taking a half dozen at once and shoving them into my mouth. I didn’t care how I looked. I was starving.

  “Thank you,” I mumbled, throwing him a grateful look. In the meantime, I was rolling my feet in circles, flexing the muscles in my legs without him noticing. I didn’t want to cramp up when the time came.

  “Can I have a few more?” I asked.

  “Yeah, sure. I don’t even like fries that much. I have a burger here. I’ll eat that.” Damn, he was a sweet kid. I hated that I was about to get him into trouble, but it wasn’t my fault. I didn’t ask for them to hold me there.

  “Thanks,” I whispered, eyes wide again. I could tell he liked me, which I used to my advantage. Poor kid.

  I took a few more fries, then cut my eyes to the side, in the direction of the door. I gasped like we’d been caught. He turned his head. I used the opportunity to throw myself at him, catching him at belt-level. He stumbled and fell against the wall.

  I took off. I had listened closely all day to the sounds of the building. The room I was in wasn’t far from a door. The back door. That was where I came in.

  I ran for it, hearing him calling out behind me. I couldn’t afford to slow down. I didn’t know what I was running into, but I thought that if I moved fast enough, I could get away.

  I was wrong. The room I ran into was some sort of office, where three people sat eating their burgers. One of them was Gareth.

  I let out a moan of pure dismay. There was the door, on the opposite wall, but they were in my way. I doubled back, my feet moving before my brain even knew what I was doing. I turned and ran down the hall. Albino came staggering out of the room I’d just come from, reaching for me. I ducked under his arms purely on reflex and kept going. By this time, everybody was alerted to the fact that I was running.

  “Get her!” I heard, and there were footsteps behind me and curses, and I was panicking, running headlong, wondering how the hell the hallway was so long.

  Just when I thought I was about to hit the entrance, where the hallway opened onto a bigger room, one of the gang members jumped out at me from around a corner. The Viking. I screamed and tried to throw myself at him to knock him off balance as I had with the kid, but it was like hitting a brick wall. He didn’t so much as flinch, just wrapped his arms around me in a bear hug and held me still.

  “Nice try,” he muttered, and I thought I might have heard admiration and even disappointment in his voice.

  “Let me go,” I whimpered. “Please.”

  “Can’t do it.” The rest of the gang muttered to themselves, cursing me. When the Viking turned me around to lead me back to my makeshift cell, I saw dozens of pairs of hate-filled eyes. Including those of the kid. I felt bad for tricking him, but only because the trick didn’t work. If I’d made my way out the door, I would never have thought about him again.

  “Don’t put her in the room,” Gareth called out. “Take her to my office. I’ll stay with her until her hero shows up.”

  Crap. Things had just gotten infinitely worse for me.

  The Viking shoved me into a wooden chair, and I noticed that he wouldn’t look at me. I wished he would. I would spit in h
is eye if he did.

  The Albino brought the ropes in, and there was no missing the way he tied me almost roughly. Gareth came in to watch. “Wrap the rope around her arms,” he said. “Pin them to her sides. Tie her torso to the chair.” He fixed me with a cold smile. “We don’t want her getting any more ideas about getting away, do we?”

  My stomach turned just looking at him. Now we would get down to business, I thought. He wasn’t going to pretend to be nice anymore. I didn’t care either way. I was tired of playing games with him. I hated him, and I knew he hated me.

  “So, I spend all day being nice to you, and this is the thanks I get?” he asked, shaking his head.

  “You call tying a woman to a chair being nice?” I snorted. “I guess that’s why there aren’t any other women around here. I can’t imagine coming back for more after that kind of treatment.”