He stuck two fingers into her and Kendall whimpered, completely at Spoon’s mercy. Hadn’t he heard Brooks say she’d leave with him? Did Spoon really believe he could get away with the atrocities he was committing against her person?
He added another finger and she moaned, the extra pain nearly breaking her.
“Who’d you fuck, Kendall?” He twisted his hand and Kendall began to cry in earnest. Big, fat, ugly tears not spurring Spoon to slacken. He hurt her worse. “Anybody?” He hooked his fingers inside of her and pulled.
The scream caught in her throat when he slapped the side of her head. Hard.
“Shut the fuck up if you like your tongue in your head. By the way, I’ll fucking kill you if you allow any other dick in you except the ones I approve. Right now. You’re mine. Your pussy’s mine. Your mouth’s mine.”
He expanded his fingers inside of her and Kendall wished she could faint. Just to make it all go away. Better yet, she wanted his knife. Yes, his knife, so she could gut him.
“You stupid giraffe, you lost a fucking case for me.”
A moving violation, she thought wildly, not understanding how that mattered right now. He’d insisted on pleading not guilty when she’d advised him to pay the fine. He had too many for her to do anything, anyway. He’d stuck to his guns and his plea of innocence. Not only had he paid a fine, he’d gotten his license revoked. No, she’d been his attorney, so she’d had his license revoked.
“I don’t like fucking losing. You got your little sister hurt. Logan asked for bitches. Promised to get me in with the Dwellers if I delivered. I owed you. You hear me, Kendall?”
For tickets? She couldn’t have gotten his license back, but she could’ve repaid the money he’d forked over for the fines.
“You heard me?”
She nodded, her insides burning. He had too many fingers inside of her.
Jerking his hand away, he wrapped his fingers around her feminine folds and squeezed, shoving his other hand in his pocket and pulling out his gun.
“Please, Spoon. Please,” she begged in a raw voice. The only other time she’d begged was for Caroline. It hadn’t worked then and it wasn’t working now.
He pointed the gun at her face. “Shut up or I’ll kill you.”
Her shoulders heaving with her wild breathing, she squeezed her eyes shut. “Caroline,” she croaked.
Cold metal pressed against the entrance of her pussy and sweat poured down her body.
“Should I use it to shoot you or fuck you?”
She shook her head, mute. The tracks of her tears burned her cheeks and she stared at the ceiling, her scalp throbbing. She couldn’t imagine what held Brooks up, why he hadn’t come in to investigate. Hadn’t she made noises? Emotions tangled through her, almost too many to comprehend. Anger. Humiliation. Fear. Shame. His face came to her again, his silver eyes filled with passion and tenderness. He smiled at her, caressed all the visible places of her pain. If her memories of him eased her passage into the next life, she welcomed them. She didn’t care anymore. She’d gotten Caroline…hurt. Just like Spoon taunted.
The gun barrel slipped into her and she convulsed in terror.
“If I pull the trigger, will it tear through your insides and explode through the top of your head?” He smiled at her, his eyes glacial, his words torturing her. His psychological violence was as bad as the physical. With each word, each grind of the barrel, she expected him to pull the trigger.
He turned the gun, flicked his thumb over her clit. Once, twice, a third time before leaning down and replacing his thumb with his tongue.
Sweat beaded Kendall’s skin, hot and cold melding and almost consuming her. But it didn’t. She remained there, suffering all the pain and the shame, the humiliation Spoon was determined to wreak upon her. He tongued her with relentless intent. She told herself it was mind over matter, but her body wouldn’t listen to her and she shattered, the pressure and stimulation of his tongue leaving her helpless.
Spoon licked her nipple and pressed the gun against her aching mouth, stuffing it between her lips. “Lick your cunt juice off my gun.”
Kendall blinked, Spoon’s brand of shock treatment crushing her.
He laughed and wiggled the weapon, banging it against her teeth. “I can still kill you. Then who’d help sweet Caroline? Your fucking drunk of a mother?” He cocked the barrel. “Now, lick it or chew on the bullet. Which will it be?”
Holding onto the thought that Caroline remained alive, Kendall stuck out her tongue and twirled it around the metal, tasting her juices and the polish, her pulse pounding with the anticipation of the gun firing.
Her compliance satisfied him because he shoved the gun into his pocket. His erection lay exposed, rising from his open zipper. Of all the days he’d gotten erections, it was today. How much Viagra had he taken to do this to her?
He brought his cock to her mouth and tapped against her cheek until she opened up, beyond the point of caring.
“You want Caroline back?” he grunted, moving in and out of her mouth.
He guided his cock, so she couldn’t stop sucking him to answer, although, as he continued, she realized he didn’t want one.
“She’s gone. You fucked up. I had to pay, so I sent her to Logan.”
He moved against her tongue, controlled now, not brutal, not with killer intentions. He was softening, getting squishy and gross, discussing her little sister with a tone he might’ve asked a stranger for the time.
“You want her back, you have to do everything I tell you.” He pumped into her mouth and massaged her scalp. “That’s my girl,” he moaned, then tightened his grip on her hair and pulled out of her mouth, spraying his semen against the bridge of her nose and her left eyelid.
A moment later, his laughter reached through her shock. “Get up, Kendall.”
She blinked, not thinking she could move. Every cell in her body ached.
He kicked her, the steel toe of his boot hitting her lower calf. She scrambled up and crawled to her knees. The room spun, made her sway. Spoon grabbed her by the hair and dragged her to her feet. He shoved her toward her private bathroom.
“I’m going to talk to Brooks. Tell him you’re taking the day off. Don’t worry he’ll believe the story. I’ll make sure he does. Go rest and I’ll call you later. Logan is going to keep Caroline for himself right now. He’s giving me one more chance, so I’ll give you one more chance. If you want your sister back, you wait for my fucking instructions and then follow them to the letter.”
Kendall stared at him, hearing his words but not hearing them. With a last scowl at her, Spoon slammed the bathroom door shut, leaving her alone with her mute horror and battered body.
Kendall gazed at nothing in particular, sitting on the sofa in her mother’s small house. Marie bustled in and out, drink in one hand and first aid items in the other. Later, it was towels. Then, tea. All the time, she gripped her glass of vodka and, all the while, her expression remained a combination of dismay and disgust.
Now that she’d showered and taken some aspirin, she had to tell her mother the truth about Caroline. Kendall had to confess that Caroline wasn’t with a friend and hadn’t refused to leave Seattle. Marie knew what Spoon had done to Kendall, but nothing else.
Now, Marie sat on the sofa, her posture ramrod straight, the hand not holding her drink resting in her lap. The heavy gun bulged from her pocket. The moment she’d heard Kendall’s story she’d gotten her gun. Not because she wanted to avenge Kendall. She wanted protection if Spoon visited.
“Are you going to leave him alone now?” Marie asked after long moments of silence during which time she almost finished her glass of alcohol.
Her mother resembled Caroline. Average-sized. Red-haired. Green eyed. Marie doted on Caroline and, as a result, Caroline doted on herself, but she was only sixteen and Kendall believed she’d outgrow her childish predilection of humiliating Kendall by calling her names when the mood hit. When Caroline was sweet, she was really sweet. When
she wasn’t…watch out.
“Kendall? Did you hear me? It’s time you left that biker man alone.”
“I will,” Kendall responded, wincing at the pain in her neck and throat, and the hoarseness of her words. She turned to Marie and grabbed her free hand, leaning her cheek against it. Tears slipped down her cheeks. “Mama,” she whispered.
“Where’s my Caro, Kendall?” Marie’s hand remained against Kendall’s skin, but didn’t move or comfort. It just lay there. “She’s my everything. My life.”
A sob welled in Kendall. Long ago, she’d given up on hearing Marie say those words about her, but she knew how her mother felt about Caroline. “I love her, too, Mama.”
Marie studied her, then pulled her hand away. “You were always so quiet. Nothing like her. Caro is bubbly and pretty and fun. She isn’t you.”
The words cut deep, as usual, but Kendall knew she couldn’t give into her feelings of inadequacy right now. Not now. Bracing for her mother’s hatred and blame, she blurted, “Caro’s gone, Mama. They took her.”
Marie frowned. “Took her? Who? What are you talking about? You aren’t making any sense.”
No, she wasn’t because she didn’t know everything. She’d only spoken to Logan Donovan after he’d gotten Caroline. And he’d gotten Caroline because Spoon had sent Kendall shopping and insisted she take her little sister so he could foot the bill. Then, he’d invited the two of them to have dinner at his house. He’d said it was to make up for his recent case of roaming dick.
And Kendall had believed him. She’d believed him because she’d been so taken with the fact that a rugged man like Spoon, who had women falling all over him, would want her. She’d gotten to his house, though, and took the Diet Coke he’d offered. And awakened hours later with her little sister gone.
How could she tell her mother that? Marie would never forgive her. Even after they got Caro back, Marie would hate Kendall.
“Answer me, Kendall.”
Kendall swallowed, squinted at the bulge in her mother’s robe, the outline of the gun pressing against the pocket. It’d be so easy to grab the weapon and end her misery.
“Kendall!”
“She’s gone,” she whispered again. “I…we were out and—“ Her voice broke and her insides felt as if they were caving in. She didn’t know what else to say except her little sister was gone. She sobbed, the hysteria she’d tried to hold back since they’d ordered her to go to the Death Dwellers’ club and fuck a stranger and everything else that followed finally breaking through. At first, she reached for her mother, but Marie pulled away and stared at her. Like she had only one daughter and not two. Like she’d never seen Kendall before.
Marie grabbed her shoulders and shook her. “Where’s Caro? Where’s my baby?”
“Gone!” Kendall cried. “They took her. I can get her back if I listen to Spoon.”
“Spoon?” Marie echoed on a gasp, the color draining from her face.
Denial dropped into her eyes and, for once, Kendall wished she’d had the ability to fall back on Marie’s defense mechanism. Deny all the ugliness of life and what was too ugly to deny, drink away.
“I’m going to get her back,” she swore, desperate. “I swear.
Short bursts of air escaped Marie’s lips and Kendall wondered if her mother was suffering a heart attack. She reached for her, but Marie shrugged her off. She wanted answers. Nothing else.
“How are you getting her back? Why aren’t you doing something now?”
“Because…because I’m hurting. I-I need tonight to rest and feel better.” Think of her biker and imagine she’d see him again one day. Pretend he’d be there to rescue her. Rescue Caroline. That he wasn’t a man and, worse, a biker, who’d hurt her and use her and humiliate her. In her head, he could be everything she’d always dreamed of finding in the man she loved. All the things that didn’t exist in the real world. “Spoon…hurt me.”
“I don’t care! I want Caro back.”
Kendall couldn’t continue…she had to. She had to push her words out. Somehow. Her mother was on the verge of coming unhinged. Just like she had when Kendall’s father had been crushed to death. Kendall had had to stay with her grandparents while Marie recovered from her suicide attempt.
“I’m going to get her back,” Kendall repeated, shivering at the wild, haunted look in Marie’s eyes. She wondered why her mother wasn’t suggesting they call the police. Or, maybe, she knew Spoon’s goons patrolled right outside the house. Watching her. Waiting for a squad car to arrive. Wanting Kendall to run away, so they could commit more violence against her and Caroline. “I swear, Mama. Please. I swear. I love you. I love her.”
Marie’s eyes widened and her nostrils flared. “Why haven’t you gotten her back yet?”
“Because—“
“Because what, whale?”
The nickname her mother had given her hit Kendall in her heart and she took a deep breath to shove away her pain. All her negative body image. Her self-hatred. Everything.
She licked her lips. “Because she’s gone.” She forced the words out, all of them. “They sent her away.”
“Sent her away?” Marie shook her head, at a loss.
She wanted Kendall to explain, but the hope of getting Caroline back and forgetting everything painful squeezed Kendall’s chest.
Marie got to her feet and planted herself firmly in front of Kendall, shoving her hands in her pockets. “Tell me,” she snarled.
Kendall nodded, bruised, battered, and hurt. “They want to sell her. Somewhere. For sex.”
Logan Donovan. Spoon. Whoever.
“My baby?” she whispered. “My…I’ll never…my baby’s gone. I’ll never…see…my baby again.”
Marie fell to her knees, wailing and Kendall scooted forward, slipping to the floor next to her mother and wrapping her arms around her, even though her entire body screamed in protest. She threaded her fingers through her mother’s hair. “I’m going to do everything in my power to get her back,” she whispered with conviction. “I promise.” She’d think of something. Someway, somehow. She’d—
“No, Caro’s gone. She’s gone. She’s never coming back. Never.”
“Mama—“
Marie shoved Kendall back. “No! You’re right, Kendall. She’s gone. You’ve said it enough times that you know. You know my baby isn’t ever coming back. You took her from me on purpose.”
“I didn’t—“
Kendall buried her head in her hands, blinking through tears.
A click caught her attention and, for the second time that day, her world tilted. Marie pressed the gun to her own temple.
“My Caro’s dead.”
“No, Mama,” she whispered, her trembling voice matching her shaking body. “P-put the g-gun d-down, M-mama.”
“Caro needs me.”
“Caro’s alive.” Kendall let out another sob, the pent up sound breaking free with a pitiful wail. “I need you, too.”
Marie contemplated Kendall for a long moment, their gazes meeting, clashing.
“Ma—“
The report of the gun filled the small room and Kendall screamed, bone, blood, and brain spraying her in gore.
Chapter 3
5 weeks later
As the sun slipped into the horizon and further chilled the early April evening, Kendall drew in a deep breath, fidgeting with her purse straps. She peeped over her shoulder and saw nothing but motorcycles and cars along with men guarding them, relieved at not finding any sign of the two men Spoon had tailing her. They were there, somewhere on the other side of the gate. Waiting. And, possibly, watching.
She frowned in concentration, working out in her head how to best sound sensible and sane when she felt anything but.
Gathering her resolve, Kendall yanked open the door to the MC clubhouse and it banged shut behind her. She jumped, the sudden, frantic pound of her heart matching the throbbing in her head. She had to adjust to being out, amongst people again, after Spoon had kept her in
a dark, decrepit house for weeks. Until he’d released her two days ago. Now she’d gone from being his prisoner to…this. Out, amongst men who could hurt her like Spoon had.
He kept her dosed with pills. The first few days after Marie shot herself, the sounds of gunshots and screams and the sight of her mother’s faceless body falling forward onto her haunted her. Her sister’s sobs and pleas for Kendall’s help.
She couldn’t help, though. She was a different person now. Everything was different. She hadn’t gotten Caro back. Her mother was gone and she’d...she wasn’t quite sure what had happened with her job. Spoon had taken care of it.
Now, she’d returned to the club to see the man also responsible for changing her life. Unused to light anymore, she squinted at the light reflecting in her irises. Her nostrils flaring, she hugged herself.
She’d expected a lot of noise. Spoon had even allowed her a radio to acclimate her to loud sounds. She appreciated tonight’s relative quiet in the clubhouse, though. The break of billiard balls and satisfied male laughter accompanied female giggles. A glass sliding across wood and the scrape of a stool across the concrete floor. All manageable noises.
Swallowing, Kendall stepped forward, turning left, remembering, somehow, the bar stood in that direction. A huge mural of the Grim Reaper, scythe dripping blood, sockets glowing red, punched her in the eyes and she gaped, trying to figure out where that symbol of death had originated and what role did he really play in someone’s passing. Blood and death chased her, but the Grim Reaper had never shown himself to her. Not even the day she’d had death painted on her.
She squeezed her eyes shut, willing the images away. A wave of heat and nausea curled inside her, another reminder of her predicament, of all the destruction and darkness she lived with now. Each time she stepped into the light, the darkness threatened to swallow her. Held by the Torpedoes, she hadn’t had to think. They hadn’t allowed it. Not in the dimness of that house where her every move was controlled. When she was really good and well-mannered—when they’d drugged her enough—they let her talk to Caroline.
Death Dwellers Motorcycle Club:: Fifteen Bad Boy Biker Books Page 56