Rip's Baby: Hounds of Hades MC

by Nicole Fox

  I smiled with my eyes over the top of my champagne flute. “Oh, I don’t know about all that,” I admitted. “But do you really think so?”

  “Oh, baby, I know so. You got a certain class about you, ain’t none of these girls got. It’s in those hips, and the way you look hotter than sin, but ain’t trashy about it, either.”

  I laughed, touched his arm. “Well, I think I just found my favorite man of the evening.”

  He grinned and raised his eyebrows. “Yeah, baby? Sweetest thing any of you girls have said to me all night. And I’m paying to be here.”

  I glanced back and saw Ford just staring at me through the crowd. I turned my attention back to Tanner. “Well, if it makes you feel any better, I’m getting paid to be here. But with you around, this sure doesn’t feel like work.”

  “You’re right. That does make me feel better.” He downed the rest of his champagne, handed the empty glass off to one of the circulating waiters, and took another, raising it to me. “To opportunities, Ms. Davies.”

  I lifted my glass and returned the gesture. “Absolutely, Mr. Wilde. Absolutely.”

  Chapter Twenty

  Ford

  I practiced some breathing techniques. In, out, in, out. In with the good energy, out with the bad. Paying attention to my breath sometimes helped with my anger. Right now, though, as Micah pranced through the party like the belle of the ball, all eyes on her? Especially mine?

  No fucking way. I just stood there, hands balled into fists at my side, imagining what this douche bag’s face would look like with my fist in it. He’d probably end up spending about the same on the nose job he was going to need as he spent on that whole outfit.

  She probably had to do this. I got that. She had to put on a show for Williams, to make it look like she was a good girl again, willing to play their game. But just because I rationally understood it, that didn’t mean I emotionally could. My knuckles popped as I watched them, my nails digging into my palm so deep I almost drew blood.

  No, her being at the party, that was no big deal. But the way she was acting with this guy? Something about it just set me off.

  Maybe it was that she was talking and laughing with some sleazebag, her hand on his arm. Or maybe it was her smile, so wide and genuine-seeming. Or it could have been her laugh, like the most beautiful chimes I’d ever heard. No. It was all three. She was really getting into it with him, too. A few more minutes like they were going, and he’d be pulling her off to one of the side rooms for a proper getting-to-know-you. Or maybe she’d be the one doing the grabbing. Who knew?

  What did she owe me, though? I was ready to sell her out just a few hours earlier. All we had was sex. Great sex, mind you. But still just sex. I’d be damned, though, if seeing her working this guy over didn’t fucking do it to me. It was like having an ice cold knife shoved into my chest, then feeling it twist and twist like a corkscrew, pulling and tugging at the center of me till it ripped right out the back my chest, my heart stuck right to the end, skewered like a kebab.

  I bared my teeth at the two of them, nearly growling, just before she looked back at me and caught the look in my eyes. “So you’re an agent for actors, Mr. Wilde?” she asked as she looked me right in the eye and smiled knowingly.

  “Agent to the stars, baby,” Wilde said, his hand going down to her perfectly formed, leather-clad ass. “You do any acting, baby? Cause I got a casting couch you’d look beautiful on.”

  Still looking right at me, she laughed, pushed her ass back into his hand, and leaned into him. “A casting couch?” she asked, giggling, touching the tip of a finger to her slightly parted, ruby red lips. “What do you mean, Mr. Wilde?”

  “Oh, baby, I think you know exactly what I mean. You got the kinda style we’re looking for, kid. We get some collagen in those lips, maybe a job on your upper assets, if you know what I mean. You ever done any acting?”

  “Well,” she said with another winning smile, “I was the lead in the school play. I played Juliet.”

  “Perfect! We’ll get you to some classes as soon as you hit LA, baby, and you’ll be money. What do you think of the soaps, huh?”

  I just rolled my eyes as I watched his gaze tracking up and down her perfect body. I couldn’t blame the guy; I’d have been doing the same thing in his shoes. Hell, I had. Of course, just because you can’t blame a guy for doing something, that doesn’t mean you can’t wanna rip his lungs out at the same time.

  I watched, my eyes the slits of a hunting predator, as he leaned in close to her, whispered something in her ear, his hand still tightly gripping that perfect ass of hers. “Mr. Wilde,” she said, giggling and slapping his arm, “I don’t know if that’s appropriate.”

  “Don’t worry, baby,” he said, pulling her into him. “We’ll make sure Daddy gets his cut. Don’t you worry your head about that.”

  That was it. I’d had enough. I pushed through the crowd, headed right for them. “Gets your hands off her you piece of shit,” I barked as I shoved aside a waiter, sending a tray of champagne flutes flying into the crowd.

  The group around me erupted, a scream going up from the women as the bubbly went flying, soaking all the girls. The guys didn’t care about the girls’ outfits, though. Why would they? All it did was turn the place into a wet costume contest.

  Micah stepped away as Wilde released her from his greasy hands. He turned around, hands in the air. “Look here, buddy, I’m just—”

  He didn’t finish, though. A left jab, followed by a right cross, dropped him like a sack of flour to the ballroom floor.

  “Ford!” Micah squealed. “What the fuck did you just do?”

  I went to her and tried to reach for her, but she stepped back just out of my reach as a horrified look came over her face. “Micah? I—”

  “That’s enough Ford!” Daddy Williams bellowed from behind me.

  I spun around to face him and the two broad security guys flanking his massive frame. “Daddy Williams,” I said. “Fuck this shit, I quit. Keep your goddamn money. I can’t be party to this anymore!”

  Daddy shook his head, clucked his tongue. “Boy, you don’t fucking get it, do you? No one just quits Daddy.”

  I brought my fists back up as one of the security guys slipped a hand inside his jacket. He didn’t come back out empty-handed, either. The crackle of blue light appeared as I realized what he had. A Taser.

  “Now, come on, boy. You wanna do this easy? Or you wanna make a scene?”

  I clenched my jaw, ground my teeth.

  I felt the presence of two other men as they sidled up behind me, discreetly displacing Micah from beside me. Now I was surrounded. I might be able to take the two in front of me, or the two behind me. But all four, with Tasers to incapacitate me? I didn’t stand a chance, and I knew it.

  A voice called out from the crowd. “Oh, Daddy Williams! A word, please?”

  Daddy turned to the source of the voice, genuine surprise painted all over his broad face. “Yes, Mr. Chambers? How can I be of assistance?”

  One of the guests I’d seen earlier, the one dressed like Lex Luthor, came out of the crowd. “I have a proposition, Mr. Williams. You see, I run a certain kind of club in various parts of the country and different areas of the world. We have several chapters, and we’ve been looking for men of this . . .what did you say his name was? Ford? We’ve been looking for men of this Ford’s caliber. Good in a fight, and able to go as many rounds as possible.”

  “What’re you saying, Mr. Chambers? That you’d like to buy Ford, here?”

  “Oh, absolutely,” Lex Luthor Chambers said, looking me up and down with a ravishing eye. “Quite the stunning form on this one, wouldn’t you agree?”

  I paid attention to my breath. Behind me, I heard the two security guards look from me to each other and back again.

  “Don’t sell to him!” another voice called out. “I wanna chance to bid on him as well. Look at those fists of his!”

  “Oh!” cried another voice from the crowd. “Me
three! I want a shot!”

  Daddy Williams looked around at the crowd before his eyes settled back on me. “Well, Ford, looks like you ain’t gonna die tonight. Ain’t that fucking something?”

  Sure, I wasn’t gonna die, but what was about to happen might be worse. Stuck being a prize fighter, kept like an animal in a cage. I shrugged. “You’re right. It’s something, all right.”

  The fat pimp swept his eyes around the crowd, turning around and around. “Guess we’re gonna have another special item on the auction list, folks. Bidding’ll start at twenty grand, just before we get the girls out. How’s that sound?”

  A light round of applause sprang up and ran through the crowd as Daddy Williams turned back to me and nodded.

  The two security guys behind me hit me with the Tasers first. First one to the right side of my neck, then one to the left. White light, crackling, pain so bright it might as well have been a second sun forming inside my head.

  I bellowed and swung my fists around, but it wasn’t any use. The pain forced me to my knees, the strength leaving me like I’d just taken a hit from Ali himself. As I dropped to the ground, the other two security guys swarmed on me, leading the way with their crackling bits of bottled lightning, jabbing their Tasers into my neck and sides as I screamed in agony.

  Then I was out like a light.

  My last thought wasn’t about my own safety, though. Instead, it was about Micah, and whether she’d be able to get out of all this alive.

  I just hoped I hadn’t fucked everything up for her. Even if she had been crawling all over that sleazebag agent from LA.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Micah

  My mouth was dry, my breath gasping. My God, had Ford really just done that because of me? Was he really that jealous? I could hardly keep the smile from my lips. I mean, yes, it was barbaric. And, yes, it was childish. But he’d just beat some guy up because he thought I liked him! I knew I shouldn’t be so turned on by what he did, but I couldn’t help! I’d never had a guy beat someone up over me, not even back in high school. It was actually kind of thrilling!

  And then Daddy and his goons encircled him, and the talk of bids started. The impudence rose inside me at that point, and I began to hope he’d get a taste of his medicine, and he’d begin to realize how important it was that we help Kessa out of here.

  Only for a second, though. I quickly remembered that he was one of my only hopes of getting out of here. Of course, nowhe might be more willing to help.

  I wanted to get to him, to help him, but he was already in the hands of Daddy and his goons as they dragged him off the side of the ball room, with the party seamlessly flowing back into place to where it had been before the interruption.

  Then I heard a groan from my feet. No one had decided to help the poor Hollywood agent.

  I reached down and helped the groaning, moaning Tanner Wilde to his feet. He had a thousand things to mutter, and none of them were nice or pleasant. I gingerly touched his bloody nose when he was back to standing.

  “Holy shit!” he screamed in a nasally voice as he flinched from my fingers. “Fuck, that hurts!”

  I winced. “Sorry. Let me help you get some ice on that, okay? We’ve got some back in the kitchen.”

  He nodded, and I began to lead him off the floor, off in the general direction they’d dragged Ford. Blood poured down his face, leaving a trail of droplets behind us on the hardwood as we made our way off the party floor. Disgusted looks from the men and women, who’d just watched poor Wilde get his ass kicked, followed us as we left. If there was anything these kinds of people respected, it certainly wasn’t weakness. Of course, it wasn’t like any of them had jumped in to fight Ford on their own. But the idea of getting punched out? That was just too much.

  “Your boyfriend packs a real punch,” Tanner mumbled. “Like a heavyweight boxer. Feel like I just went ten rounds with Tyson himself.”

  I bristled a little. “He’s not my boyfriend, Mr. Wilde. He’s barely even a friend.”

  “Sure about that?”

  “Believe me, if you knew the whole story you’d agree with me.”

  He smiled around the blood, his fingers still pinching his nose as I guided him to the side door. “Suit yourself, baby. My experience, guys don’t get into fights like that unless they at least like the woman. What happened? You two have a falling out?”

  I shook my head. “Mr. Wilde, you wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

  He laughed, winced again. “My broken nose is singing a different tune, baby. But believe what you want. I ain’t been punched like that since the last time I got caught dating a married woman.”

  “Date married women a lot, do you?” I asked as we wandered down the hall and found the kitchen. I set him down on a stack of milk crates next to the table and had him lean his head back so the blood would maybe stop draining all over his shirt.

  Maybe the agent was right. Maybe Ford did have actual feelings for me. Even though he’d been rough and masterful with me down in the basement, I thought I could feel the underlying tenderness beneath it all. But I’d thought that it was just wishful thinking at the time. Especially after I’d stolen his mother’s ring like that. Then, when he’d stuck around, I’d just figured he was doing it for the money.

  His actions, of course, disproved that. Why would a guy who just sticking around for the cash in hand and the finder’s fee go after some guy I was flirting with? A guy I was being paid to flirt with, no less?

  Wilde laughed a little. “Not exclusively married women, baby,” he admitted to my back as I found a towel and the ice machine. “But, say, what’s a pretty whore like you dating a guy anyways?”

  I tensed a little as I scooped the ice into the towel.

  “Shouldn’t that be a big professional no-no, or something?” Tanner Wilde continued. “Or do you just have a trail of johns behind you, all with busted up faces?”

  I smacked the iced towel into his face, producing a pained yelp. “I’m not a whore, Mr. Wilde. I’m an escort.”

  “Geez,” he said, taking the ice-filled towel from my hand. “Touchy subject, huh? Look, ain’t nothing wrong with doing what you’re doing, Micah. Everybody’s got an asset, baby. Pretty faces get in the pictures; guys who are tough get into sports; big brains go into chemistry; and people with connections go into finance. Ain’t nothing wrong with capitalism.”

  I took the domino mask from my face and put it down on the prep table next to us. “Well, I don’t know about how your world works, but being a whore here isn’t exactly a grand thing. You know they’re doing an auction for sex slaves out there tonight, right?”

  He laughed. “Well, yeah, but that ain’t real, baby. That’s all for show, ain’t it?”

  I groaned a little, and he took the towel from his face and looked at me. I shook my head at him.

  “What? It ain’t fake? You gotta be kidding me, baby. I thought this was just a bid-for-the-night thing? Like one of ’em charity auctions, but, you know, sexier, and the guy bidding for the date knew what he was getting.”

  I sighed. “Sorry, Tanner, but it’s for real.”

  His face drooped. “Well, fuck. That’s some downright shifty shit. You’re serious, ain’t you? Daddy Williams is going to sell some girls off to the highest bidder?” He put the ice back on his nose, wincing as the cold touched his skin. “Like permanent?”

  “Only the damaged ones,” I said. “My friend Kessa is going up on the block by the end of the night. Daddy cut her face real bad, sliced her up so she couldn’t work the floor anymore.”

  “Holy shit,” he said, eyes round as saucers. “And ain’t no way you can get her out?”

  “That’s what I’ve been trying to do. Ford was going to help me, but we’ve been separated, and some other things you probably don’t wanna hear about—”

  Tanner Wilde shushed me. “Wait, baby. You hear that?”

  “Hear what?” I asked, straining to hear above the noise of the busy kitchen.

/>   There it was. A steady thump, thump, thump like a kick against steel. “That!” Tanner said.

  I turned around and looked towards the back, to a disused portion of the kitchen where they kept some of the walk-in coolers. Tanner got up from his stack of milk cartons and followed me back towards the source of the sounds.

  “Fuck you, Williams!” I heard roaring through the walls of the walk-in, followed by a couple more steady thump, thump, thumps. I recognized that voice. It was Ford!

  I rushed over and threw over the walk in. There, on the damp floor, his teeth chattering form the not-quite freezing cold, was Ford with his hands bound behind his back with zip-ties. He looked up at me, the kind of look in his eyes that you only see in the movies. Relief, happiness, exasperation at your circumstances. But, most importantly, love. The kind of love you can’t fake unless you’re about to win a golden statue for it.