Shaking my head, I attempt to clear it of the confusing thoughts that are swirling around in my mind. Weariness takes hold of me, and I breathe deeply, trying to calm myself down. I close my eyes and pray this ends soon.
* * *
“Wake the fuck up,” a deep voice bounces off the cold, concrete walls jerking me from a fitful sleep. My mind had been replaying everything that’s happened over the past twenty-four hours in a loop.
When I open my eyes, I find the man who took me when I surrendered. He told me to behave because his boss wasn’t averse to killing anyone — even women. I shuddered at the time, wondering if I’ll ever walk away unscathed.
I push off the bed, noticing I’m alone in the cell. Amelia is nowhere to be seen, and I wonder if they took her out first, and are now coming back for me. I’m not sure how long I slept for, but it doesn’t look like the sun is even peeking through the small window that sits in a corner, high in the thick wall.
Dark fury burns in the man’s eyes as he grips me. Cold fear trickles down my spine, reminding me to obey whatever they ask of me. For my life and my father’s. I’m shoved into a room which I notice as my eyes adjust to the light is a bathroom.
“Get yourself cleaned up and then, we meet the boss,” he smirks, danger lacing his words. He pulls the door shut, but I don’t hear a click. Are they really leaving me alone? What if I escape?
At that thought, I turn to find the window closed. I make my way toward it quickly, tugging on the handle, but I notice it’s been nailed shut. I’m a prisoner and there really is no way of my getting out of this.
Sighing in resignation, I head to the basin and twist the tap, hoping for hot water. When it slowly warms, I splash my face and glance up at the cracked mirror to find my jagged face staring back at me.
There are dark circles under my eyes, and the make-up I had on when I was out with Talon, is gone. I freshen up as much as I can before I relieve my bladder. Once I feel ready, I go for the door. Twisting the handle, I pull it open to find two men on either side of the entrance. They’re dressed in black suits and white shirts. For dangerous criminals, they have good taste in clothes.
One of them turns to me, taking in my appearance and smirks. It’s not the same smirk that Shadow graced me with. No, this one is filled with vile thoughts and violence. I wouldn’t put it past them to push me into the bathroom and lock me in, forcing themselves on me.
A shudder of revulsion takes hold and bile swirls in my gut. I attempt to tamper it down by taking a long deep breath and I step out into the long hallway. The other man who’d been ignoring me pulls out a gun and gestures for me to walk which I quickly oblige.
I’ve been around men with guns all my life, but I knew they’d never hurt me. These men wouldn’t think twice about putting a bullet in me. I turn and head down toward my cell, but they don’t shove me inside. Instead, we pass the small space and make our way toward a staircase that leads upward.
I’m guessing we’re going to the main part of the house. The cold, dingy basement is nothing compared to the opulence I’m met with when we come out into a kitchen that looks like it should be in some home décor magazine.
“Welcome,” a deep, yet seductive voice says from behind us. I spin on my heel to find a man dressed impeccably, with dark hair tousled perfectly, and his mouth tilted into a grin that I’m sure has women wanting more of him. Except me. Because the man before me is the leader of the Cartel and I know what he does.
When I turned sixteen, I spied on my father when he was in meetings. He didn’t know I was there, but I would listen to all the horror stories he and the rest of the club would discuss. And the man before me was the topic of most of those meetings.
The problem is that he is also one of my father’s most well-known enemies. He hasn’t made it a secret that he doesn’t like our club. He has forced our hand a few times, letting it be known that he wanted us to give up our business. He wanted to deal in weapons when dad was running a gun operation.
My heart is beating wildly in my throat, and even though I try to tamp it down, to calm the erratic thumping, I can’t. I thought I was fearful earlier, but things just took another turn.
“Why am I here?”
“Your father is not cooperating.” He enters the room, nearing me, and it takes all my confidence not to wilt under his intense glare. “And I don’t like people who don’t oblige.” His voice is low, dipped with the accent that makes his words sound even harsher than they normally would be.
“You’re trying to steal his business,” I tell him. I’m not sure where my fight comes from, but it’s slowly simmering beneath the surface. I know that Marques isn’t a man to fuck with, but I can’t stop my feisty nature from coming to the forefront.
“Don’t worry, niñita, I’m an understanding man, and once your father explains his plan, I’ll rethink killing you.” He chuckles as he passes me and makes his way to the large wingback chair that overlooks the room. He settles himself, after unbuttoning his suit jacket and I notice the gun that’s glinting at me from the holster draped across his chest.
“I don’t understand why you want weapons when it’s always been my family’s trade,” I speak sounding far older than my almost eighteen years.
“A little girl who wants to save her daddy,” Marques chuckles as he shakes his head. I’m not sure how long it’s going to take Shadow to find me, or even my father, but I’m praying it’s soon because I’m not sure I can survive this.
“I’m not a little girl,” I bite out in frustration.
Those dark eyes take me in slowly, inch by inch from head to toe, and I immediately feel dirty. I shouldn’t have said what I did, but the fear that’s grappling with my frustration is making me say things that could get me into more trouble than I already am.
“You’re certainly beautiful,” he smiles, gesturing to the chair opposite his. “Sit. Let me learn about this princess who will one day rule the club.”
Honestly, I don’t want to sit in his company, but one of the men behind me shoves me forward, causing me to stumble toward the chair, and I relent. There are times to fight, and there are times to surrender, and I know when I have to cut my losses.
Ignoring his jab about me taking over Fallen Saints, I question, “What do you plan to do with me?”
“Well,” he says, tipping his head to the side as if he’s considering his options before he continues, “your boyfriend is on his way here, and once he arrives with the news I want, I’ll probably allow you to leave with him.”
I cross my arms in front of my chest and shake my head in disbelief. How am I meant to trust a man like him? Someone who is a criminal by profession. A man who I know kills, maims, and tortures. “You’re just going to let me leave?”
“Why not?” He sits back, steepling his fingers under his chin as he regards me. It’s as if he’s intrigued by me, like he’s watching a wild animal that he’s trying to tame. He’s a hunter, a predator, and I am his prey.
“I don’t know. You could have killed me already,” I tell him honestly.
“I could, but what would that benefit me?” he challenges, his eyes burning through me, trying to look at the deepest parts of me.
I shrug, “I don’t know. You’d still get what you want.”
“Perhaps.” He considers for a moment before he answers, “One thing I’ve learned in all my years is that if you rush into something, you’ll never be satisfied.”
“You mean like dragging out torturing someone?” I question quickly, shock lacing my words and he laughs out loud. I don’t expect that reaction to my query, but he seems amused by me.
“You’re quite the spitfire, Syren,” he tells me, muttering my name like something delectable on his tongue. “And as much as I do love a good session of torture, I was actually talking about business.”
“Isn’t your business in the criminal sector?” Once again, I’m not sure why I’m poking the bear, prodding the beast to wake him up.
“Yo
u’re far too knowledgeable for your age,” he smirks. “Yes, I run a Cartel, but I also am a businessman. Someone who wants to make money for his family.”
My mouth falls open at his confession. He has a family.
“You seem shocked at my words, niñita?”
I shake off the feeling that he’s trying to win me over somehow. He’s dangerous and falling for his silver tongue isn’t going to change that fact. I nod, “I am, I didn’t think a man like you would have a family.”
“Not all men who work for me are cold-hearted bastards,” he tells me as he pushes off the chair and rounds it to grab a tumbler from the cupboard. I watch him pour a shot of amber liquid, but I can’t tell what it is since it’s in a crystal decanter.
He glances over his shoulder, lifting the glass toward me in offering, but I shake my head. What if he drugs me? I can’t trust him. Even though he admitted that he doesn’t want to kill me yet, I don’t know what else he’ll have up his sleeve.
He settles back in the seat. It’s only when he’s gulped down most of his drink, do I hear the thunder in the distance. Normally, I’d hate the sound, but right now, it’s the sound of salvation.
Bikes are nearing the property. I’m not sure where we are, or how long it took them to arrive, but they’re here now and I can finally leave. I hope.
“Sounds like your boyfriend has arrived.” He gestures to the men behind me and I wonder if he’s telling them to open the door, or to go out and kill them.
“He’s not my boyfriend,” I bite out, unsure of who he’s talking about. It could be anyone that’s currently pulling up to the property. But in my mind, there’s only one name that’s playing on a loop, Shadow. It has to be him.
Marques grins as he swallows the last mouthful of alcohol and the door swishes open. Three men saunter in looking like knights in leather armor. But it’s the one that’s front and center that has my heart kicking up a notch as it leaps into my throat and thrums with both excitement and elation.
Shadow.
9
Shadow
The moment I walk into the room, I feel her. It’s a magnetic reaction to Syren. Even though I want to look at her, to make sure she’s not hurt, my eyes are trained on the man in the chair opposite her.
“Shadow,” her voice floats toward me, soft and melodic. I need to get her the fuck out of here because this is not a man who I know to keep his word. Even though he’s the one who called me and made his presence known, it has to be a part of his plan.
“You found me,” Marques says then. He doesn’t sound at all surprised. He wanted us to come here, to walk into a trap.
Trying to play it cool, I shrug, “Didn’t think you’d mind a few visitors.” I take my cue to step forward, and the moment I do, guns cock at the ready. Syren’s fearful gasp is all I need to stop my advance.
“I thought you told Pablo you were ready to kill,” he taunts, knowing I can’t do shit with six guns pointed at Syren.
“You know damn well why I said that,” I tell him, the grit in my voice is clear, and his chuckle only serves to annoy me even more. I want to hurt him, right there in the chair.
“Perhaps,” he shrugs, but before he can continue, a smile curls my lips when the sound of a raging storm beckons in the distance. His eyes widen for a fraction of a second before he laughs out loud. “Do you think your little gang will get through my defenses?”
I don’t answer him because I know my men can and will get onto the property. When I called Stryker and gave him the order, Dad okayed it, and now there are more than thirty bikers on their way into the compound where I asked them to be.
I wonder if this was my father’s plan all along, for me to take charge, but then I consider that he wouldn’t have known of the attack on Trigger and his family.
Marques rises, he’s watching me, so I don’t make a move. In a few seconds, all hell is going to break loose and the only thing I need to ensure is that Syren is safe. The man steps around the chair he’d been sitting on, the guns are still pointed at Syren’s head, and if I do anything now, she’ll be dead.
That’s not something that sits well in my gut.
Marques gestures to his men who make a move and that’s when Talon and Blade take a step forward.
“Are you goin’ back on your word?” I ask. It’s a challenge. He needs to keep his attention on me so the plan can all fall into place.
“I never go back on my word,” he bites out, calling off his men and we all still for a moment. No words are uttered, and my heart is hammering against my ribs painfully. The pretty girl I swore to protect is staring directly at me, the heat of her gaze burning me from the inside out.
The moment gunshots ring off outside, I make my move along with Talon and Blade who are swift in their attack. Four of the six men are on the ground, two of them grab at Syren, but I know Talon and Blade will take care of them, my focus is on the fucker before me.
His 9mm is aimed at my chest. Syren’s screech is ear piercing when she sees it, but I don’t give a shit. I need to focus. My hands are in the air, but I still close the distance between me and Marques.
There’s a glimmer in his eyes. The hunter became the victor, but what he doesn’t know is the moment I get him in place, he’ll be the one bleeding out. I never considered how I would die, but what I do know is that it won’t be today.
When we finally get into position, I reach down slowly, and pull my phone from my pocket, showing him it’s nothing more than a device. And before he has time to ask what I’m doing; I press the button.
It takes two seconds before the shot comes through the window and I watch Marques go down, but not before his finger presses the trigger and pain explodes in my leg causing me to fall to the ground.
My ears buzz with commotion and noise, as I grapple for the gun that’s sheathed in my belt. Once I have it in hand, I tug it free and bring it up to push it into the asshole’s chest, right at his heart.
“I told you once, Marques, you’ll never fuck me over,” I inform him before lowering the gun and pulling the trigger. Blood spurts from his stomach, splattering on my face and hands as he slumps backward.
I don’t have time to speak when small, delicate hands grip my arm and a voice comes from my left. “Are you okay? Oh God, you’re bleeding,” she says in shock. Talon and Blade are already dragging a sputtering Marques from the room and a handful of the new prospects are working the room, helping to empty it of the scum who stole both Amelia and Syren.
My eyes flit around and I realize I didn’t notice Amelia wasn’t in the room. But it’s not long before blue eyes hold my gaze hostage as she speaks to me and her voice becomes clearer.
“Shadow, are you listening to me?”
“What?” The pain is searing through my thigh, and I know I’m going to need Doc to check it out.
“There’s another girl here, she was down in the cells with me.” Her voice is urgent, and I nod in response, but I can’t tell her I know the girl. By the time my guys lift me to my feet, I’m ordering them to search the compound. I want every inch scoured.
Once we’re alone again, I glance at Syren whose face is painted with fear. She’s stricken by the events that just transpired. I do something I shouldn’t — I can’t stop myself — and pull her into my arms.
10
Syren
It doesn’t take long for Shadow to get down the stairs with me, and soon we’re outside. There are men everywhere. Some are bleeding, others are dragging bodies across the driveway.
An SUV pulls up and fear grips me for a short moment until I realize the driver is part of the Fallen Saints Arizona chapter. He offers me a wink before he looks over at Shadow and takes in his leg.
“Jesus, man,” he grumbles. “You’re lucky the asshole didn’t shoot you in that pretty face of yours.”
“Fuck you, dickhead. You’re just jealous you ain’t as pretty as I am,” Shadow throws back. There’s a friendly banter that ebbs and flows between them and the tensi
on that had locked Shadow’s muscles earlier seems to dissipate.
We move silently toward the back of the SUV and two guys come over to help Shadow settle in the back. The man who just arrived pulls out a large knife and slices at the jeans where they’ve been ripped by the bullet that I’m sure is lodged in Shadow’s leg.
The tourniquet they tied close to the wound is still in place, and the moment the material of his jeans slips away, blood stains his smooth, tattooed thigh. I feel dizzy when I see the crimson seeping from the hole in his leg.
“Get her out of here,” Shadow orders one of the prospects, but I shove him away.
Shaking my head, I look him dead in the eye and bite out, “No, I’m staying.”
His eyes glower at me. “Don’t argue with me. I’ll be fine. I want you safe.”
“I’m safe now, aren’t I?” The fire that was in his gaze seconds ago disappears and he nods silently. He shakes his head before grunting in agony when the guy, I still don’t know his name, pulls out a bullet with a pair of silver tweezers.
“Fuckin’ asshole!” Shadow’s groan is low and feral, and there’s pain drenching every word. I can’t imagine what it feels like getting shot. And I also can’t imagine how much discomfort he’s in right now.
“Don’t be a pussy,” the guy chuckles, then turns his gaze on me. “Sorry, little lady.” There’s a glint of amusement in his green eyes, and for a moment, I wonder if he’s Shadow’s brother.
“That’s okay, I’m used to it.”
“You’re lookin’ at the biker princess, Ace,” Shadow tells the man who’s still holding onto the tweezers which grip the bullet, looking proud of the fact that he’d just pulled it out of someone’s leg.
“So, you’re the girl who has everyone up in arms,” Ace says as he turns to me fully and offers me his free hand which is still caked in Shadow’s blood. My eyes linger on the metallic liquid, causing him to glance down. “Shit, sorry.” He wipes his hand then offers it to me once more.
Twisted Steel: An MC Romance Anthology Page 30