His to Protect: Midnight Riders MC

by April Lust

  But some part of me had convinced myself that I could explain it all away and we could go back to being normal. We could live happily ever after and not worry about Santos or anyone else ever again. But of course things weren’t that simple and I was naïve to think they could have been. A week before Nester was released, Santos came to me. It was just like any other time over the course of the past five years. Santos would come to my house and we’d sit and talk. Or rather he’d talk and I’d try my hardest to listen dutifully, because that was what he wanted from me. It suited me, too, in all fairness. I would rather sit there and listen to him drone on and on about things I couldn’t care less about than have to try to converse with him about things I really cared about. I didn’t want to get to know Santos or for him to know me. In my mind, I had relegated this to a business arrangement, period. If he wanted more from me, well, we were going to have issues.

  But he never did. Well, that wasn’t entirely true. Of course he did want more from me. He wanted me sexually, of course, but I was able to put off his advances with “I’m not ready” and “we’re moving too fast” and “I want us to do this right and be married first.” All of these had infuriated him, but he’d obliged.

  Then that night a week before Nester’s release came.

  There was a knock at the door and I went to it quickly, knowing already that it would be Santos. He’d been coming over almost every night for the last two weeks and though I was tired of him, I knew there was no way to get around it. This was part of our deal, part of my agreement to be his girl, even if it would never be anything short of a lie.

  I pulled open the door to find that Santos was dressed in a suit tonight. It wasn’t wholly unusual, though he wasn’t above jeans and t-shirts, too. It just depended on what kind of a mood he was in—and what his purposes were. If he was riding with his gang, he preferred to look the part. Whether that be jeans or leathers, either way, he looked like a rough and tumble terror on two wheels. Which was of course the point.

  But tonight he clearly had other things in mind. I wasn’t sure if he’d changed into the suit before heading this way—not wholly unlikely, though I could see it either way—or if he’d had some sort of meeting beforehand.

  Santos had recently gotten into real estate and construction. As a result, he wore suits more and more often these days, saying it was important to show them that he wasn’t just some dumb slob. That he was a businessman and one with some real backing and power. I figured that a suit wouldn’t really do all of that for him, so he might as well just wear what he liked, but Santos wouldn’t have listened and I didn’t bother wasting my breath on telling him.

  “Hi,” I greeted him, leaning forward to kiss him. I did my best to keep the kisses chaste but affectionate, though it was difficult. It was important, though, that Santos feel like I was making an effort, no matter what I was actually feeling for him. “Are you hungry?”

  I figured he wouldn’t be, but I wanted to make sure that I asked so that he wouldn’t get annoyed and say I was being a poor hostess or something along those lines. I also had something ready to be thrown in the oven on the off chance that he said yes. Another one of those precautions that ensured everything would run smoothly, though it was little more than act and show.

  “Not tonight, honey,” he said, tapping my chin with his forefinger in a sign that was probably either affectionate or possessive. Or both. “I thought we could just chat instead.”

  I nodded my agreement. “Of course.” He stepped into the room and I closed the door behind him, taking just a moment longer than necessary so that I could settle myself and prepare for the long night ahead. I would have to be attentive, but not smart. He didn’t care much for smart women in the end. After a pause, I turned and followed Santos into the living room. He’d taken a seat on the couch, which was unfortunate, because it meant I would have to sit right next to him. If he’d gone to a chair, then I could sit in another chair or the couch and he wouldn’t think anything of it, but the couch meant I had to sit right beside him. I had to let his arm drape across my shoulders. I had to cuddle up to him.

  It sent a shudder of disgust through me, but I was mostly used to it. I told myself Santos was a decent guy. I told myself that he took care of me. I told myself that maybe he even actually cared about me, because those were the things I had to tell myself otherwise I would never have been able to last this long.

  Plastering a smile on my face, I plopped down into the seat beside Santos and did my best not to cringe or tense as he wrapped his arm around my shoulders, just as I knew he would.

  “We’ve been together a long time now, haven’t we, Zelda?” he asked, surprising me. When Santos and I had our conversations, it was generally on a topic that focused solely on him. How was his day? What has he been working on? Who pissed him off? What did they do? Why did they do it? He deserved so much better. This was completely out of left field and for a moment it had me completely caught off guard.

  “Um,” I stuttered for a moment. Usually these conversations required less involvement from me. “Yes, we, um, we certainly have.”

  He smiled at me, all teeth. He wasn’t an unattractive man, though I personally felt not physical draw to him. It was one of those chemistry things that I had just never been able to fake. It was especially hard because I had been with a man with whom there was passion and fire and chemistry. H had been all consuming and it was hard to go from that to this.

  “I think we’ve really gotten to know each other, haven’t we?” he continued, his hand stroking my arm.

  I wanted to squirm away from him, but I managed to keep myself right where I was and forced a smile. No, I honestly did not think that we’d gotten to know each other. Santos didn’t know the first thing about me, nothing honest anyway, and he’d been playing some sort of role the entire time with me, so there wasn’t a damn thing honest between us. But that wasn’t the answer Santos wanted to hear, so I nodded my head. “Sure. I think we’ve come a long way.” Far enough that I wasn’t sure if Santos realized that I was still pretending, that I had been pretending all along. Which was more dangerous than I realized, but how could I know?

  His smile widened and he pulled me closer. I let him, forced myself to relax against him and even placed a hand on his firm chest, palm flat. I could feel his heart beating out a steady rhythm beneath my hand and knew that it was impossible that he felt chemistry with me with a heart that was so steady, so unaffected. I tried not to think it, but I did anyway: Nester’s heart always beat like a jackrabbit when we were together. Too eager, too thrilled, too passionate to be ignored.

  “I think so, too,” Santos told me seriously. He used his free hand to grip my chin between his thumb and forefinger so that he could turn my head to look me in the eye. I swallowed harshly and hoped he couldn’t notice. “And I think that, after five years together, we should take things to the next level.”

  I couldn’t help it; I froze.

  The next level? Surely he didn’t mean… Sucking in a harsh breath, I maintained my smile, but told him, “Santos, dear, you know that I don’t want to…um, well, to take the next step before I’m married. It’s very important to—”

  He released my chin and waved that same hand in the air dismissively in front of us. “Don’t be stupid, woman, I remember.” He sounded briefly irritated and I winced.

  I worked hard not to irritate him, but this was one of those things that simply could not be helped. I had to stand my ground on this, because I couldn’t give it up. I couldn’t lose this piece of myself, not to Santos. I couldn’t lose the last memory I had of Nester and me together.

  Santos sucked in a steadying breath and when he spoke again, he was calm once more. “I remember, my sweetheart. What I am saying is that I think it is important that we take the next logical step to that end.”

  I frowned at him in confusion. “What are you suggesting, Santos?”

  His grin was wide as he dug into his pants’ pocket, reaching for somethi
ng buried there. I felt a sudden spike of nervousness in me. What was he doing? What did he mean the next logical step? And to what end?

  Santos pulled out a small velvet box from his pocket and I froze. Dawning realization swept me. There was no questioning what was in that box and there was no more question as to what Santos was getting at. I wouldn’t sleep with him before marriage. He wanted to sleep with me. He really wanted to sleep with me.

  Enough to marry me.

  “Zelda Rivers, I am asking you to be my wife. Would you do me the honor?” He opened the velvety box as he popped the question, revealing a diamond the size of a small country. It glinted and glittered and was probably incredibly expensive. There were women across the country who would have swooned at the mere sight of it. But that didn’t matter to me. As soon as I laid eyes on it, I felt disgust roll in my stomach.

  No, was my immediate reaction. No, I would not marry Santos DeArma. Not for all the money in the world. Not for anything.

  But then I met his eyes. His grin was suddenly sinister and I understood with sudden, intense clarity what was really going on.

  Santos was proposing because, yes, he wanted to sleep with me. But it was the timing that really tipped me off. On some level, this really was about the sex. Santos wanted nothing more than to have me, he always had, and while I was willing to give him kisses and sometimes groping—though I detested it—I would never give him more, no matter how he pushed. But his reasons for wanting sex from me were…more complex than I would normally give him credit for.

  He wanted to sleep with me because, on some level, he thought I was beautiful. Or maybe just sexy or whatever. He saw me as a womanly object to be possessed and thoroughly used. It wasn’t a notion I appreciated, but there wasn’t a damn thing I could do about it.

  There were other reasons, too, though. He wanted to sleep with me because Santos needed control. He didn’t like that I withheld this one thing from him—a rather important thing in his little mind—and that I stood so defiantly against him, unyielding. Santos didn’t like limitations imposed on him and he definitely didn’t like the concept of me having any sort of self-determination.

  But the third reason was the one that I hadn’t considered until right now in this moment.

  Santos wanted me because I belonged to Nester.

  In one week’s time, Nester would be released from prison. Of course I knew that. I had been counting the years, the months, and then finally the weeks. Now I would count the days and the day before his release, I would count the hours until he could come home.

  Not to mine, of course, but that didn’t stop a girl form dreaming.

  Was it really any sort of coincidence that with only a week to go, Santos was proposing marriage to me? Was it any coincidence that he would marry me and then proceed to fuck me just before Nester was free? I shuddered at the idea

  He probably wanted a shotgun wedding, too. Maybe in Vegas or someplace equally as gaudy.

  All of these thoughts raced each other through my head and made me angry. Angry enough that I wanted to throttle him, wanted to curse him and spit on him and yell at him that I was a person and had a right to feel whatever I wanted to feel. I wanted to tell him that he couldn’t control me and he would never have me.

  But with a shock, I realized that I couldn’t.

  Nester was still in prison and with only a week to go, I knew that he still wasn’t safe. Not from Santos. But there was more than that. If I said no, then Santos would do something else. Something worse. I didn’t know what it was, but I could feel it like a snake wrapping around my windpipe, threatening to crush it if I said the wrong thing.

  And with the despair that only came with this kind of defeat, I realized that I had to say yes. For Nester’s safe and for mine. Santos would never let me go, and it broke my heart, because I could no longer delude myself with notions of running away into the sunset with Nester.

  This was my life now. I would never get away from Santos.

  Forcing a smile that I was sure he had to know was fake, I breathed out, “Yes.”

  If I’d known what was going to happen that night, I would have shoved that ring down his throat. Because we were already in trouble. All of us. Santos was a monster and now he had a gun stuck against my head, holding me in a vicelike grip that I knew from experience I couldn’t break free from.

  I struggled to keep my ruined shirt closed, humiliated enough that Santos had seen and groped my bare breasts. Standing across from us, I saw Nester. He was so handsome, so brave. He had always been what I’d wanted and some part of my damaged heart soared with the knowledge that he’d come for me. Nester came to rescue me.

  At the very least, I would die knowing that he hadn’t left me to this monster.

  “Give it to me or I’ll fucking kill her!” Santos screamed at Nester, spittle flying from his wet lips. His face was flushed with anger, I knew, and was probably that ugly, blotchy red that made him look like someone had messed up a paint job pretty badly. “Fucking destroy it!”

  I watched as Nester looked torn. Surely he had to know that if Nester did as he was told, it wouldn’t solve anything. It would only leave Santos with all the power and leverage. He wasn’t going to let us walk out of here alive, not a single one of us. I never thought of myself of a martyr and I still didn’t, but I knew that I was dead. There was no getting me out of this one, so why destroy evidence and waste both of our lives?

  But as I stared at Nester’s hurt expression, I knew that it didn’t matter. He was going to do the noble thing, because that was the kind of man Nester was.

  I shook my head ever so slightly, trying to tell him No silently, but it did no good. He looked at me, his bright eyes meeting my dull ones and I knew in that moment that he would do whatever he could to save me. Despite everything that I’d done to him, he would do this for me, to save me.

  “Please,” I begged. “I’m not worth it.”

  Santos jerked me against him, shaking me like a ragdoll, yelling at me to shut up, but I never broke my gaze away from Nester and he didn’t either.

  “Yes, you are,” he answered me so fiercely that a ripple of pleasure as well as shock rocked through my body. I was still trembling, upset and hurt from the violation I’d received from Santos, and part of me had been sure that I would never be able to feel pleasure again. Yet here I was, suddenly wishing for nothing more than to be wrapped up in Nester’s warm, strong arms. To stroke him and touch him and feel his skin against mine, because that was where home and safety were.

  I needed him.

  “Zelda, you’re the only thing that’s worth it anymore,” he told me so sincerely that my chest hurt at his words. He gripped the document with both hands and began to twist. “I love you, Zelda Rivers. I always have and I always will.” Then he tore the document clean in half.

  My heart swelled and broke at the same time. I watched in horror as Nester sacrificed the only thing he had to use against Santos, the only chance he stood at getting out of here with his life, and felt both incredibly loved and uncharacteristically angry.

  You fool, I thought, but couldn’t be as furious as I wanted to be.

  Nester loved me. He would always love me. Even if that always would be abruptly cut short in only moments, I took pleasure and solace in that knowledge that at least I had him. Here at the end, he was mine again.

  Nester continued to tear up the document until it was scattered into bits and pieces that fluttered to the floor. Soon there was little left of his leverage and I wanted to weep at that fact. How would we get out of here now?

  “There’s a good Nester boy,” Santos said with menace and lingering fury. Santos had always hated Nester and I considered for a moment how much that might have intensified in the moment that Nester told me that he loved me.

  Off to the side, I noticed Wildcard move. He was going for something that was tucked into the waistband of his jeans. I knew without seeing it that it must be a gun. I had wondered where Nester’s had bee
n all this time, but then I realized that of course Santos would have insisted he come unarmed. There was a good chance he’d asked the same of Nester’s men, but I also knew Wildcard. He got his nickname for a reason as he could be crazy and unpredictable. There was a chance that even if Nester had ordered him to do otherwise, Wildcard had brought in a gun. Or at least some kind of weapon.

  Unfortunately, since I was easily able to see Wildcard moving, Santos could, too. “Fucking stop moving!” he yelled at Wildcard.

  Wildcard didn’t do as he was told, so Santos pressed the gun harder against my forehead, the cold metal biting into my skin and making me whimper. Wildcard froze, glancing over to Nester for orders one way or the other. Nester gave a discreet shake of his head, a very simple command of don’t do anything stupid.

  Wildcard gave a much put upon sigh, but made it clear that he would follow orders. This time.

  “Why don’t you go ahead and keep going, eh?” Santos told him, his attention on Wildcard rather than either myself or Nester. Nester slowly began to inch towards me and Santos, but was taking care to do it slowly lest Santos get wind of him trying something. “Go ahead,” Santos continued. “Show us what you got, then put it on the ground.”