Lawless: A Motorcycle Club Romance (Stone Devils MC) (Broken by the Biker Collection Book 1)

by Nina Park

  “I didn’t plan to see you again,” he said in response to my silence. “I don’t want you to think I was waiting for you here.”

  “I didn’t think that,” I lied.

  He held up a cigarette poised between his fingers. “I just stopped for a smoke and then saw you cross the street. Totally innocent.”

  He stepped away from me and leaned against the building, completing the James Dean look I’d picked up on at the bar – white shirt, tan skin, cigarette. Even with fear coursing through my veins, I found myself wanting to believe him.

  “Right,” I said, nodding, trying to bring my heart rate back to baseline.

  “I am glad to see you again though. Even though it wasn’t planned,” he said, smiling. His teeth glowed in the darkness. “If you hadn’t run out so fast, I planned to ask you to leave with me.”

  I never had any intention of leaving with this man, but I wasn’t exactly sure how to say that without being rude. He had simply been a way to get a few free drinks.

  “Sorry, but thanks for the drinks. That was nice of you,” I said.

  “Between you and me…” He leaned forward, so his breath hit me in a thick wave of alcohol and warmth. “I didn’t do that from the goodness of my heart. I’d hoped to see a return on my investment.”

  He winked and then laughed at me.

  I wasn’t sure how to respond. Clearly, he wanted me to say I’d go home with him, but I wasn’t going to. However, I also didn’t feel like turning him down while we were alone in an alley together. I needed to get away from him, but I wasn’t sure how to do so safely.

  He extended his arm and reached a hand towards me. “My name is Brett.”

  Brett. Something about putting a name to the face made everything seem less scary. He wasn’t a nameless stranger in an alley. He was Brett. I hesitated for a second before extending my own hand. His fingers wrapped around my palm and we shook once. Twice. Then, without any warning, Brett pulled me towards him, wrapping his free arm around me, and kissed me.

  I could practically smell the alcohol oozing out of his pores, and the smoke from the cigarette he was still holding behind my back made me feel sick. He pressed his lips to mine harder, trying to get a response out of me, and I opened my mouth to him. Brett reacted as I hoped he would and plunged his tongue into my mouth, which I promptly bit down on.

  His arms dropped from around me and he pushed me away from him, nearly knocking me back on the cement.

  “Son of a bitch,” he said, holding his hand to his mouth and looking at me, eyes narrowed.

  “Sorry,” I said, trying to look innocent. I’d fought him off the only way I knew how, but I still didn’t want to make him angry. If I could keep the situation under control, I could walk away from him safely and make it home.

  “That’s okay,” he said with thinly veiled frustration. “You just got a little excited.”

  He moved towards me, and I turned around, heading back to where I’d dropped my shoes on the ground.

  “I really have to be getting home though. My friend is supposed to be picking me up back at the club,” I lied. “I’m sure she is already there waiting for me.”

  He kept moving towards me, eyebrows raised. “Your friend is picking you up at the club? Then why did you leave?”

  That was a good question, and one I did not have an answer for. So, I ignored it.

  “It was nice to meet you,” I said.

  Suddenly, he was on me, warm hands moving down my waist and along my spine. It felt like he had four sets of hands, like he was everywhere at once, and it felt impossible to get away.

  “Leaving so soon?”

  “Like I said, my friend is waiting.” My voice sounded high-pitched and unnatural, panicky.

  He pressed his lips against my ear and whispered, the harsh tones sending a shiver down my spine, “I don’t believe you.”

  He pushed me back against the wall, the uneven brick wall biting into my back, and pressed his body flush with mine. His lips were kissing and biting at my neck while his arms pinned my hands down to my sides, making it impossible for me to move.

  “Brett,” I said, trying to speak softly, kindly – trying to make the situation more personal, remind him of his own humanity. “I have to go.”

  He ground his hips into mine, and I felt his erection against my thigh. Things were quickly getting out of hand, and I knew I didn’t have much time to gain control of the situation.

  “I’m a nice guy.”

  “I’m sure you are,” I said, swallowing back a sob.

  “Then, why resist?” He growled.

  “We barely know each other. And my friends are waiting.”

  He rolled his body against me and bit down on my neck. Hard.

  I cried out, and he laughed.

  “Don’t you feel this magnetism between us? This is love at first sight, baby. We have a sexual attraction that can’t be ignored.”

  “I don’t want our first time to be in an alley,” I said, changing tactics. “Take me back to your place.”

  If I could just get his weight off of me, I could run. If I could make him think I wanted this and he released my hands, I could claw his eyes out and sprint down the street. I wouldn’t hesitate to protect myself like I had at first.

  “There’s no time,” he breathed out.

  Then, he spun me around, so the bricks bit into my cheek. He wrapped one arm around my waist, pinning one of my hands to my side, and used his other hand to explore my backside. He slapped my butt and then slid his hand up my thigh and under my skirt.

  “I’m not on birth control,” I said, desperate. I used my free hand to reach around and grab at his arm, his shirt, anything to make him stop.

  “There are ways to avoid that problem.” I couldn’t see him smiling, but I could hear it in his voice.

  My stomach clenched, and ice ran through my veins. How had I found myself in this position? I should have gone with Lacey and Avery. I shouldn’t have tried to walk home alone. I began thinking back through all the decisions I’d made that had led me to this moment, berating myself for not staying home, for drinking so much, for not carrying around a rape whistle like Lacey always said I should.

  Brett, if that even was his name, pushed my dress up around my waist and I felt warm air hit the backs of my thighs. I wiggled my hips, trying to free myself, and Brett laughed.

  “Someone sure is eager.”

  “Please, don’t,” I said, hiccupping.

  He ran a hand down my spine, his fingers dipping below the waistband of my panties. “Relax, baby. You’ll love it.”

  I used my free hand to try and push off the wall, but I was completely pinned. Brett was easily twice my size. I might as well have been pinned between two brick walls. His fingers wrapped around the elastic of my underwear and with one sharp tug, he ripped them off. I felt the useless scrap of fabric fluttering between my legs and against my hips. He groaned.

  My entire body was tense with nerves and anticipation when I felt him begin to fumble with something. He seemed to be having a hard time with something. Then, I felt his body lift off of mine ever so slightly, and I heard the zipper of his jeans going down. While trying to undo his own pants, he’d had to remove some of his weight from me, and I knew it was the only chance I’d have at escape.

  I took one deep breath and then pushed back with everything I had in me, slamming my body backward and into his. I bent my arm and threw my elbow backward, hearing a loud crack as it connected with his jaw. He roared and stumbled back, his hands grabbing his face, giving me room to dart sideways and out of his reach.

  I didn’t hesitate. I ran. Barefoot, dress around my waist, ass hanging out.

  I ran.

  Chapter Four

  Falyn

  I ran down the alley, pumping my arms and legs as hard as I could to escape. I could hear Brett rallying behind me. He wouldn’t let me get away so easily, not if he could help it. That was all the encouragement I needed. I lowered my head a
nd fought back against the fear and alcohol and exhaustion clouding my mind, and I ran.

  Until I reached a dead end.

  The alley was so dark; I hadn’t realized the other end was blocked with a fence. I could have tried to crawl over it, but I wasn’t sure I’d be able to do it fast enough to escape. Brett could catch up to me while I was only half over the fence and pull me back down.

  I spun in a circle, looking for something to give me a boost or another escape route, and I saw a door set into the abandoned building. I lunged for it, turning the handle, praying it was unlocked.

  The door opened, and I darted into the building without a second thought. The smell of moisture and dust overwhelmed me, but I pressed further into the dark room, crouching behind a stack of cinderblocks along the wall.

  My chest was rising and falling rapidly, but I did my best to quiet my breathing. The alley was dark enough that it was possible Brett hadn’t seen me go into the abandoned building. As his footsteps pounded down the alley, closer to my hiding spot, I prayed he wouldn’t find me. I prayed he would think I’d gone over the fence.

  His footsteps slowed just outside the door, and I stopped breathing, eyes wide, preparing myself to fight and run if necessary.

  “Shit.” He hissed.

  I flinched as he kicked at what sounded like a metal dumpster. Then, the alley went quiet again.

  Several minutes passed, but I didn’t move. What if he was hunkered down in the alley waiting for me? What if he grabbed me the moment I walked back through the door? No matter how long the alley stayed quiet, I couldn’t bring myself to walk back into it and head home.

  I stood up, brushing dust and debris off of my dress, and looked around the room. At the far corner was another door. As much as I didn’t want to wander around an abandoned building, going back into the alley seemed like an even worse option, so I moved towards the door. As I did, the faint sound of music grew louder, and I saw light seeping out from beneath the rickety door.

  Could the building be some kind of underground club or rave spot? It wasn’t unheard of for people to occupy empty buildings and use them to party in. Surely, an underground club would be louder though. What if I was walking into a squatter’s nest?

  Again, I weighed my options. I could risk running into a homeless person who might wish me harm, or I could risk running into Brett again who definitely wished me harm. Taking a deep breath, I pushed open the door, deciding it was worth the risk.

  When the door opened, I was surprised to see a group of young women standing just a few feet away. I hadn’t heard them at all, which actually wasn’t surprising at all when I noted how quiet and subdued they all were, staring at the floor, arms crossed over their chests. They all appeared to be around my age, and only one of them, a petite blonde in a thin gray dress, looked up at me as I entered.

  I was about to ask someone what was going on when a tall, thin man entered. All of the women seemed to shrink, and it was clear the man was some kind of authority, so I quickly joined the line of women, blending into their number. I stared at the floor while the man counted heads, muttering the number under his breath.

  He got to the end of the line, checked a piece of paper in his hands, and then counted again. When he got to the front, his eyebrows pulled together in confusion. Then, he sighed, shrugged his shoulders, and went back through the door he’d come from.

  As soon as he was gone, the girl in front of me – a brunette with dark circles under her eyes and thin arms – turned around. “Where did you come from?”

  I opened my mouth to say something, but no words came. Should I tell her about Brett? About being attacked in the alley? Or should I make up another excuse? I wasn’t sure what exactly I’d walked into, so I didn’t know which option would be best.

  “You didn’t come in with us,” the woman said, her pale face wrinkling in confusion. “You came in that back door, right?”

  I turned and looked at the door I’d come through, but still, I said nothing.

  “Are you a club girl or something? I’ve never seen you before,” she added. “Which club are you with?”

  “I was at the nightclub down the block,” I replied, forgetting the actual name of the place. I didn’t assume there were too many nightclubs within walking distance, but my vague answer seemed to only garner more confusion.

  “Showtime.” The thin man from before reappeared, his words thick with sarcasm, clearly telling a joke I didn’t understand.

  Before the girl could ask me any more questions or I could decide whether to follow the group or not, large mountainous men in black shirts filed out from behind the thin man and surrounded us, stationing themselves at equal intervals along the line of women as if they were secret service agents, and we were the president’s fifteen wives.

  I had a strong suspicion, however, that the men were there to monitor us as well as protect us from whatever was behind the door.

  I maintained my place in line as, one by one, the women in front of me slipped silently and somberly through the door. By the time my turn arrived, I couldn’t see what was on the other side of the door, but the steady beat of dance music floated through the thin walls. Perhaps it was some kind of underground club where I would be expected to dance?

  The thought certainly didn’t fill me with glee, but it wouldn’t be the first time I’d danced on a table. Plus, if I were lucky, I’d earn a bit of money. Enough to take a cab home and try to put the memory of the night behind me.

  The thin man waved a hand through the door, gesturing for me to move, but I hesitated. I could tell him there had been a mistake. That I wasn’t meant to be there. My legs were exhausted from a long night of dancing and running from would-be rapists, and I just wanted to go home and lay on my pull out bed in Lacey’s living room.

  I opened my mouth to speak, but the thin man tipped his head towards the black-clad muscle man behind me, and before I knew it, I’d been shoved through the door by a pair of meaty hands, stumbling into a large, gray room.

  The music became instantly louder, and I could see now that it was coming through a few cheap speakers set up hastily in the corner. A stage sat in the center of the room and spotlights on tripods encircled it. I’d expected there to be dancing, maybe even stripping, but the room looked better suited for a dogfight than a dance club.

  A small crowd of men was gathered in front of the stage. They stared at the women as they walked in, and more than a few had their eyes trained hungrily on me. I couldn’t imagine my crumpled dress and smeared makeup attracting any special attention, but to be fair, the rest of the women in the line looked miserable.

  It was at that exact moment that I began to panic. What in the hell had I walked in to?

  Chapter Five

  Cade

  The door opened, and a line of women marched in. They looked horrid – pale and limp and miserable. I tried to fool myself into thinking they were attending the auction or a group of club girls sent in to make the rounds and keep the men occupied, but that delusion lasted only as long as it took the first woman to walk from the door to the stage.

  She had thin black hair that looked greasy under the spotlights, and her under eyes were dark and splotchy. The steps up to the stage seemed to tax her, and I saw her chest heaving from the effort beneath her incredibly tight, thin cotton dress. She moved to the far end of the stage, turned to face the crowd, and then looked down at the floor.

  Then, the next girl joined her. And the next. They continued coming out until ten women were lined up across the stage like cattle.

  A staticky voice came over the speakers, breaking the silence. “Step forward, Number One,” he said enthusiastically.

  The woman took a step forward, and my stomach sank. Men in the crowd began raising their hands as numbers were called. I realized they were prices. I looked around the room, trying to find one other person who found the events unfolding in the room as disgusting as I did, but every eye was trained on the women on stage. Observing,
assessing.

  The auctioneer called out another price and a normal-looking man in front of me wearing jeans and a leather jacket raised his hand.

  “Once? Twice?” the auctioneer asked, wagging his eyebrows as he looked around the room. “Sold.”

  One of the guards I’d noticed before stepped forward, grabbed the woman by the elbow, and lead her from the stage. She was handed over to the man in the leather jacket, and he left at once, exiting through a side door.

  Somehow, I’d been sent to observe a human auction. Did Guts know about this? Surely not. We were trying to move into a legit business, and nothing was less legit than human trafficking. I wanted to text him and ask, but I also didn’t know how it would look to everyone else in the room if I pulled out my phone during the event.