Captured: Hunted Love #3

by Aden Lowe

  Kellen had decided he and the Raiders should pull up and go somewhere else for the night, when two pickup trucks full of squealing females pulled into the field. The trucks parked to one side of the fire and about a dozen women piled out of each. The drivers left the headlights on, and one left some hokey-ass country music blaring. So much for laying low. The whole damn thing was a disaster waiting to happen, and whenever two MCs mixed, shit was going to happen anyway.

  Of course, a couple of the younger Raiders were all up for it. He could order them away from the party, but then they would have a full head of steam, just ripe for a deadly situation. Dangerous. They had to unwind so they could go in steady and ready to stand to when he needed them. Better to let them have at it and deal with whatever came up. He gave Hack a nod, letting him know the Raiders could join in, except for the watch. As for himself, he'd stay to himself and keep an eye out for trouble.

  Hack moved around, taking a moment to speak quietly with each Raider, assuring Kellen they knew the deal. Plans adjusted, Kellen strolled past the fire and grabbed a beer from a girl and headed on over to his blankets. He had no intentions of allowing the party to interrupt his plans for the evening. He'd enjoy his beer and read until he was tired enough to sleep.

  For maybe the first time since he'd had his first wet dream, he had no desire to indulge in all the free pussy. He must be getting old or something. Or maybe just more selective. The current offering wasn't anything to brag about.

  A faint breeze sprang up, carrying the smoke from the fire straight to his bedroll. Fuck that. He moved it a dozen yards away, further from the fire but still within reach of the party. The peace at the far end of the field beckoned, but he couldn't leave his guys with no one to watch their backs.

  The new location would do. He dropped to sit on his blankets and cracked open the beer. At least it was cold. Good thing his phone was fully charged. Looked like he had a long night of reading ahead. He pulled up the e-reader app, selected his book, and started reading.

  A girl sidled up, humming along with whatever shit was playing over the pickup's cheap system, and stopped right in front of him. If she expected him to invite her to sit, or even acknowledge her, she was in for a shock. Rather than give up and go away as he'd hoped, she started dancing, a sort of slow gyration probably meant to be sexy, but instead ended up looking stupid.

  Shit. Just his luck. She seemed determined to keep right on air-fucking until he said something. "You need something?" He refrained from looking up at her.

  "Your President sent me over, said you might be lonely." The grind continued unabated.

  Cold rage flowed through Kellen's veins. He stood, slowly, careful to keep the need for extreme violence under control. "Did he now?"

  The chick flipped her bottle blonde hair back to reveal caked on makeup. "He sure did and said I was your type." She wiggled some more.

  Disgust curled his belly as he looked the slut up and down. "Girl, I wouldn't touch you if my dick was ten feet long." He tapped his chest where both his Hell Raiders President patch, and his BOS National President patch were on full display. "See these? I'm President. He ain't even dog shit. Now get lost." He waited until she stomped away, clearly pissed.

  He dropped back to his seat, ready to get back into his book, but his phone vibrated just as he opened the app. What the fuck now? He tapped the text message icon where a number he didn't recognize scrolled.

  Hey, Baby, where R U? I'm sitting on the corner of my bed playing with my pussy.

  His cock sprang to immediate attention. Vicky. Visions of her perfect, lush body splayed out for his attention, exactly as he'd imagined it two nights ago during the most incredible phone sex ever shot into his mind. Far more interesting than a book. He should reply.

  The phone buzzed again. An image downloaded. A selfie shot in a mirror, legs spread wide over the corner of a big bed, pretty pussy on full display and glistening wet, and those bold eyes staring straight into his. Holy fuck. The Nickelback song Animals ran through his head. You're beside me on the seat, Got your hand between my knees, And you control how fast we go by just how hard you wanna squeeze… Felt like he raced full throttle into an obsession. He replied.

  Call me. Now.

  He opened his jeans to free his hard-on and lay back on his blanket and let the party raging around him fade into oblivion as the phone vibrated an incoming call. An unfamiliar smile spread across his mouth as his hand slid down to cup his balls.

  "You like my picture?"

  Fuck. Just her sexy voice practically made him come. "Not sure. What can you tell me about it?" Keeping the need out of his voice proved difficult.

  "What did you want to know about it?"

  "For starters, how'd you get that pussy so wet?"

  She gave a low laugh. "Baby, that's all you. I was thinking about our phone call."

  A gunshot when off not far away and several women screamed. "Shit!" Kellen rolled and dove for cover behind a low bush a few yards farther out.

  "What's going on?" Concern tinged her voice. "Are you okay?"

  On the other side the fire, Trip squared off against three Demons and a fourth had brought out the pop-gun. "Yeah, I'll call you back in a few. Need to take care of some shit." He ended the call, fastened his pants and stood.

  Trip had somehow allowed himself to get put in a bad position, separated from the rest of the Raiders and a .22 pointed at his chest. And in the course of the party, the Demons had positioned themselves to loosely surround the Hell Raiders. Normal shit Kellen didn't interfere with, but this wasn't just routine party hell-raising. The old Colt .38 Police Special revolver slid into his hand as if alive.

  The impulse to rush in and drag his guys out nearly overcame the need for caution, but Kellen pushed the rash thoughts away and crouched back out of sight to strategize. It wouldn't do any of them any good if he got himself cornered too. From long years' experience with tight situations, he'd already memorized positions and weapons, so he backed off, more out of sight, and circled the camp. He needed an advantage. A big one.

  The pickup trucks still sat facing the fire, headlights on, and the brush line at the edge of the field forced him in close behind them. Anyone looking directly toward him would be blinded by the headlights, and several Demons stood just a few feet in front of him. It was probably the best position he could find.

  Finally, Trip's voice came to him clearly. "…don't give a fuck what ya'll think. I see a hungry kid, I feed him if I can."

  The Demon with the .22 sneered and one of the others spoke. "Like I said, you got no dick. Fucking nun right there, gotta help all the little kiddies. Pussy."

  Trip snarled. "Soon as the weasel drops the pea-shooter, I'll show you how much dick I got. Right up your ol' lady's ass."

  Shit. The bastard was trying to provoke them into making a move. Kellen needed to control the damage and fast, or the job would be a bust and the Demons would go on to finish it. And get the pay and the cred.

  Eric The Red, appearing to ignore the whole thing, chose that moment to light up his pipe with a coal from the fire, then led the curvy brunette he'd been playing with over to the truck Kellen crouched behind. He took a deep drag off the pipe, leaned the woman against the grille and ripped her skimpy shirt open.

  The short scream the woman gave covered any noise Kellen made as he came close enough to strike. He took a careful account of where all the Demons were and what they were doing, and waited.

  Eric took another drag from his pipe. "Now don't go getting cold feet, momma. You got some promises to back up. I do believe you said you could take anything I could give. That right?"

  The woman half-sobbed and gave a shaky nod. "I-I'm s-sorry. I d-didn't knooow!" Her stutter gave way to full-on wail fit to raise the dead.

  Kellen could party with the best and he wasn't above scaring bitches a little, but he drew the line at outright rape. And that's exactly what this was setting up to become. Between that and the shit with Trip, it was time to ste
p in.

  He darted around the front of the truck and grabbed a handful of Eric The Red's hair and tucked the muzzle of the Colt against the base of his skull and spun to put the Demon Prez between himself and the rest of the camp. The brunette screamed and ran to one of the other women she'd arrived with, tears ruining her careful makeup.

  "Okay, motherfuckers, listen up."

  The camp went silent and all eyes turned toward him. The Raiders who'd been left on watch signaled to let him know they would back his play. Hack edged away from the pair of Demons who had blocked his intervention. Another Raider moved to shut the music off.

  Kellen dug the Colt's muzzle just a bit harder into the muscles at the base of Eric's skull and spoke loud enough for the whole camp to hear. "Hell Raiders and Red Demons are supposed to be on a joint mission. Allies. That is not what this look like. No, Eric, this looks like one of two things. Either you've lost control of your club and they no longer follow you and just do whatever the hell they dream up, or this camp was a fucking setup. So I call on the Demon VP for an answer. Which is it?"

  The Demon VP, not far away, started to say something, but Eric laughed aloud and interrupted. "Come on, Kellen, this is just a party that got a little out of hand. Not my fault your boy has a thing for little kids." He spread his arms loosely at his sides and Kellen put more pressure on the Colt, bowing Eric's head back. "Come on man, get some pussy and relax a little."

  "I don't think so. Raiders, mount up. We roll."

  In the near silence that followed, the Raiders quickly gathered whatever belongings they had unpacked and in a matter of minutes, they were ready. Someone had even grabbed Kellen's bedroll.

  With the men ready to move out, Kellen gave Eric's hair a twist, wrenching his head back farther. "If I find out this was a double-cross, Eric, you know what it means. We roll at first light and the Demons better be ready or we go on without you." The shove he gave Eric sent the other man sprawling. The deliberate insult to a club President would not be forgiven, but Kellen was beyond caring.

  This job felt fucked from the start. Once more, the little voice in the back of his head, the one he usually listened to, insisted he and the Raiders should refuse the job and go home. That voice had stood him in good stead over the years, but this time, the need for vengeance outweighed it. He intended to taste Jakob Barger's blood. Soon. The Raiders roared away from the field, back the way they'd come.

  Roughly three miles back, Kellen led them back another dirt lane to a sloping field behind a caved in barn. The younger men weren't entirely thrilled with leaving the whole party behind, but they knew better than argue. Very quickly, they settled into a dark camp. The men bedded down right away, except for Lefty and Dix, assigned to keep watch for the first two hours.

  Finally, with everyone settled, Kellen collapsed to his blankets, weary from the bullshit. He wanted call Vicky back, wanted to hear that sexy voice, but getting his rocks off would have to wait. He needed sleep to be clear-headed for the rest of the journey ahead. Eric The Red wouldn't get a chance to ambush the Raiders again.

  The vibration of his phone interrupted his thoughts. Vicky? He smiled and swiped the screen to reveal the text. Rather than the hard-on inspiring message he expected from Vicky, some bullshit from his half-brother filled the screen. Fucking bastard.

  Alexander says Barger is taken care of already but he wants you to do the rest of it.

  Rage burned through Kellen's belly. All this way for nothing.

  I'm going home.

  He'll give you double. Really wants you to do this part.

  Fuck it. He'd come this far already. Might as well go on and at least see.

  What the fuck ever.

  Chapter Eleven: Jakob

  The soft pre-dawn light allowed Jakob to make out Kate's features while she slept, her head pillowed on his arm. He could look at her like that forever, her face all smooth and peaceful in sleep. The morning birds set up a cacophony in the trees, growing louder as the light increased. Every morning for the rest of his life needed to be the same. Only making love to his Kate as the sun rose could make it any better.

  His Kate. Just the words changed something inside him. And after their little excursion around the bend of the creek the evening before, he could almost believe all those dreams might come to pass. Too bad they didn't have time to explore it immediately.

  Even as the thought faded, Brady stirred in his bedroll and sat up to rub the sleep from his eyes. After a wary glance around the camp, the lanky man discreetly turned his blanket back to pull on his jeans, then stood and stepped into his boots and crammed his hat onto his head. In near silence, he headed into the trees. A few minutes later, his voice floated back as he spoke gently to the horses.

  Brady returned to camp and stirred up the fire and, within moments, had coffee and breakfast started. Alan woke and Jakob could no longer prolong the inevitable. He woke Kate gently and helped with her jeans, then dressed himself.

  Every movement felt like his brain had turned into a bowling ball and kept rolling around within his skull. Not fun, but he'd had worse. Odd that it hurt worse than it had the day before. He must have overdone it playing with Kate. Well worth it.

  Breakfast turned out to be oatmeal seasoned with dried apples, and strong coffee. Not what he expected for camp food, but definitely welcome.

  Finished eating, Brady sipped his coffee then looked to Kate. "Miss Kate, if you're ready, I think we should head home right away. That shooter could still be hanging around, and if he is, sooner or later, he'll stumble across us here. Even if we stood watch, it would be too easy for him to get close enough to finish his job."

  "You think it was deliberate?"

  "No doubt. Shooting more than once is no accident. And you've never given anyone permission to hunt or camp out here, so there's no reason for anyone to be wandering around to make an accidental shot. Somebody deliberately watched, followed, and shot."

  Jakob agreed. "You know anyone around here who'd have a reason to do that kind of thing?"

  "Nobody local I can think of."

  Jakob's head thumped harder. Had someone followed him? Had his work put Kate in danger? "We should get out of here as soon as we can." He couldn't bear the thought that she might be in danger because of him. He needed her home and safe, right away.

  Kate nodded. "There's no sense waiting for him to pick us off. Whoever it is, I want them to pay, but I'm not bringing the law into it. They'd never find enough evidence, even if they found the guy. So, I'll think of something else."

  Jakob silently agreed, but kept it to himself. He had no desire to undermine her authority in any way. Her men needed to know she still called the shots, relationship or not. As soon as they finished the meal, Alan and Brady started to pack up so they could break camp. He started to help, but Kate sent him to roll up his blankets, citing his wound as a reason for him to do something quiet.

  With the task finished, he was left with nothing to do for a few moments. Rather than twiddle his thumbs in reality, he settled for grabbing a thin stick and scratching around in the dirt. After a moment, something started to take shape—a crude heart shape with his name and Kate's. Childish bullshit. But he didn't have the wherewithal to scratch it out.

  Kate approached from behind and froze for a minute. "You spell your name with a 'K'?"

  Surprised, he looked up at her. "Yeah. My mom had this thing about odd spellings, but my dad insisted I be named after his dad, Jacob. He finally let her change the 'C' to a 'K' to shut her up." That memory led to others best left buried. He stood. "We ready?"

  "Oh. Yeah, we are." But instead of walking away, she stared down at the little heart. "No one ever did that for me."

  "Put your name in a heart?"

  "Yeah, it's sweet." She leaned up to give him a quick kiss. "Thank you." She caught his hand and led him toward where the horses stood waiting.

  Climbing aboard Ajax had never seemed difficult, but at that moment, Jakob felt like he was climbing Mount
Everest. Finally, though, he made it, but the bowling ball in his skull had become a steel shot-put with an Olympian arm letting it fly. He wavered for a second but Kate steadied him before he could topple off.

  With Jakob in the saddle, the others mounted up and on Alan's signal, they moved out at a jog. Despite Ajax's smooth gait, the first hundred yards seemed like a hundred miles, but after that, it wasn't quite so bad. He even managed to pay enough attention to realize Brady had dropped away from their little column, heading off to the left.

  Throughout the morning, Brady made forays off to the side of the trail, returning at regular intervals. Jakob felt a little better knowing their back trail was being watched, but he still almost expected a bullet to come from behind every rock and bush. The whole thing made his head hurt worse. The sense of relief when Alan called a halt to water the horses and let them rest a moment made him feel ridiculous.

  At least he managed to dismount and climb back up again when the time came, and it was even slightly easier than before. The afternoon seemed slightly less painful, and by the time they rode into the barnyard at the ranch, his brain had returned to mere bowling ball status.

  Twilight was well underway and his belly reminded him lunch had been hours and hours ago. Ajax seemed as anxious as Jakob to get the trip over with. He arched his neck and snorted, stretching his stride a little more.

  The moment his feet his the ground again, Kate shepherded Jakob off toward the house. "Come on, we need to get the doctor to come and check your head."

  Okay, that was too much. "No doctors. I'm fine. It's just a bump."

  "Jakob, a head injury is nothing to mess around with. I'm sure you have a concussion at the very least. Possibly even a fracture or traumatic brain injury. I don't know anything about that kind of thing. You need a doctor."

  As bad as he hated to admit it, she was right, he probably should see a doctor, just in case. Damn, he hated doing that. "Okay, but a good meal and a night in that bed of yours will do more good than a doctor."