by Sophia Gray
He told me we had to move. To get somewhere safe. And we didn’t have any more time to spare. I had really wanted to stay and see if morning sex was as good as other sex was, but I understood that we had to go.
Our lives were at stake and that was enough to snap me back to reality.
He grudgingly gave us enough time to shower and get dressed. I wore the dress again, because it fit better than anything Ciaran had, but I’d worn one of his coats over the top. It would keep me warm at least. It wasn’t snowing hard today, but it was still freezing outside.
We drove in the old truck that belonged to Ciaran’s mother. It made me feel intense sadness, but I was grateful that the truck was in such good shape. Working heater, clean seats, smoothly running engine. Nothing like my frozen, beat up piece of crap.
“Where are we going exactly?” I asked Ciaran.
He was driving fast for snow, slow for no snow. His eyes were fixated on the road, determined to watch it carefully. “A safe house. It’s where my boys are holed up—and why I can’t get ahold of anyone. No one’s answering their cellphones because the police might be able to track them.”
When I gave him a surprised look, he shrugged and said, “Shane’s got men on the force, remember?”
I nodded. I did remember. It was the only reason I wasn’t calling the police right this second. That and I was worried what might happen to Ciaran if I did. Even if we didn’t get one of Shane’s guys, would they treat him fairly?
I doubted it.
“So this safe house,” I began.
“It’s called McMillan’s. McMillan doesn’t actually exist, but we got some paperwork drawn up in his name and purchased an old mill on the outskirts of town. It’s in decent condition, but it’s definitely not running as a mill. But it works as a safe house because it isn’t technically connected to anyone.”
“Why didn’t you try calling there?” I asked. “I mean, since you couldn’t reach anyone else.”
He shook his head. “No phone. Part of the reason it’s safe. That way no one can call over and pretend they’re one of us or trace the call or anything else. If you don’t know where it is, you can’t get there without someone who does know where it is.”
I thought about that. Really, it was pretty smart. Though why would you need a safe house if you were law-abiding citizens?
I was pretty sure I already knew the answer to that. Ciaran was part of a motorcycle club, which meant he probably sold drugs or stole cars or something else along those lines. Illegal things. Things I shouldn’t be comfortable with. And I wasn’t. But even as I came to this conclusion I realized something else: I didn’t care. Not like I should.
Because I knew what kind of man Ciaran was and I liked that man.
…
We pulled up outside the old mill. It didn’t look like much from the outside and honestly it looked pretty deserted. I didn’t see any cars parked there—or motorcycles—but there was the main building that looked like a three-story warehouse and a bar off to the side. The yard was covered in snow but looked like even in the spring there wasn’t much going for it. It was probably the kind of place that got a lot of weeds and not a lot of love. Surrounding the area was mostly just trees.
“This is it?” I asked skeptically.
Ciaran smirked at me, then said, “C’mon.” He put his warm hand on the small of my back, urging me forward.
We walked to the front door and Ciaran knocked. There wasn’t any answer, so he knocked again. I figured he’d end up knocking a half dozen times and still no answer, making me wonder if anyone was here at all. But before I could suggest just that, the door swung open and a gun was aimed directly in our faces.
I felt a small, gurgling scream crawling its way up my throat, but before it got out, the man holding the gun instantly put it down. “Jesus, boss! You scared us half to death!”
Ciaran let out a laugh. “You’re the one pointing the gun at us.”
The man grinned broadly then reached for Ciaran. He pulled him in for a tight embrace that involved a lot of macho back slapping and all of that. I stood there awkwardly, waiting for them to finish.
When they pulled apart, the man’s eyes shifted over to me. “And who’s this little angel?”
I felt my cheeks flush at the angel comment, but I offered my hand anyway. “Elle,” I said.
He grinned wider and accepted my proffered hand. “Mave. It’s a pleasure to meet you, honey. You Ciaran’s new girl?”
I started sputtering, not sure how to answer that. Was I his girl? I kind of hoped so. The sex had been awesome and I had already admitted to myself that I liked the man. The other stuff I wasn’t so sure about, but I was willing to take a leap of faith.
“Easy, Mave,” Ciaran warned, pulling me closer to him. “Don’t put the poor girl on the spot like that.”
“I’m not a girl,” I muttered, and Mave laughed.
“You know, I think I like her.”
We went inside and I was introduced to a dozen other guys, all members of the Lucky Skulls Motorcycle Club. They seemed like they were in varying degrees of rough around the edges, but none were anything but polite to me. The closest I got to rude was when I was introduced to Smith and he only looked at me for half a second, long enough to nod, then looked away. Ciaran quickly explained that was how he was with everyone, so I didn’t take it personally.
Ciaran showed me to a room on the third floor. It was nice and set up like a guest bedroom. “I wasn’t expecting this,” I admitted, thinking of how rundown the mill looked from the outside.
He shrugged his shoulders. “We put some time into it to make sure the inside was livable and the outside was forgettable.”
I smiled at him. “Mission accomplished.”
He smirked at me, but it faded quickly. He was clearly thinking something over in his head. Finally, he stepped closer to me and said, “You’re going to stay here for a little while. They’ve got clothes that’ll probably fit from wives and girlfriends of the other members. There’s plenty of food around, stocked for the entire winter if need be, and it’s safe. Remember that, this place is safe.”
I was following him and nodding when I finally caught his meaning. I took a step back. “What do you mean I’m staying here? Aren’t we staying here?”
For a second, Ciaran didn’t answer. Then he sighed and ran a hand through his ruddy hair. “No. Just you.” I opened my mouth to immediately protest, to say I wanted to go with him, but he quickly continued before I got the chance. “I need to take care of Shane. He’s started a war between my guys and his and if I don’t do something, things are going to get a lot uglier than they already are. These men are my responsibility.”
“You sound like some general leading an army,” I joked halfheartedly.
“It’s not far from the truth. It means I’ve got to be there with them, but you, you’re innocent in all of this. This has nothing to do with you and I never should have dragged you into it. But I swear I’ll keep you safe and out of it. Just hold out here until this whole thing clears up.”
I wanted to protest, to explain to him that I made the choice to stay here and get myself involved in all of this. Which was maybe a stretch. Circumstances mostly had pushed me into this, but I’d decided to be okay with who he was, even if that meant he did illegal things sometimes. That meant I’d signed myself up for it.
In the end, however, I didn’t go through that whole laundry list of reasons. All I did was step up to him, put my hands on either side of his face, and kiss him. When I pulled back, I said, “I want to be with you.”
He nodded. “And I want you to be safe.”
We kissed again and despite the crowd downstairs and the impending danger, or maybe because of it, I let him kiss me again. With passion, with feeling. I let him shed my clothes and lay me back on the bed. I let him bury his face between my legs until I came against his mouth. He let me return the favor. I swallowed his considerable length, letting the head of his cock hit the bac
k of my throat. I bobbed my head and moved my mouth up and down on him until he was right there at the edge. But he didn’t want to come in my mouth. He wanted to be inside me again.
I let him.
He filled me up entirely and moved in a way that was perfect. That was just what I needed. That was just what I craved.
He rocked into me until he came and I held him tightly until he came down from his orgasm. We cleaned up after that and I begged him to stay here with me, too, but it was clear from his expression that he wouldn’t.
I decided to take a risk. “What if I told you…I love you?”
He froze, his hands in the midst of buckling his belt. Then he continued to move again. He put on his shirt, then a sweatshirt. He’d no doubt grab a jacket from downstairs. Then he sat on the edge of the bed so he could put on his heavy work boots. Still he said nothing.
“Did you hear me?” I asked softly.
There was a pause, then, “I did. And I’m sorry.”
With that, he got up, stomping all over my heart with those damn boots.
…
The guys were downstairs going over battle strategy or something along those lines. Ciaran had reminded me to stay in this room unless I needed something, a measure of extra security, but I now had the feeling I’d been duped. Maybe I’d misread all of the connection between Ciaran and me. Or worse, maybe that connection was all only one sided.
The ache in my chest told me exactly how I felt about that and it wasn’t good. I couldn’t believe how stupid I was to think a man like that would love a stupid little girl like me.
“Stick to singing, buttercup,” I told myself aloud. “You’ve got a better chance.”
“You’re right. Maybe you should sing us a song?”
The sound of another voice answering me caused me to leap off the bed and back up towards the door. At the window I saw a large man with dark hair and deep set eyes grinning at me. Leering even. His eyes dragged themselves over me until I felt dirty.
“You’re prettier than I’d have figured,” he commented, stepping towards me. I didn’t want for him to get closer. I turned and ran for the door, hearing him over my shoulder saying, “Can’t figure out what you’re doing with a dog like Ciaran.” Then he laughed.
I jerked the door open and ran out into the hall. Part of me wondered why the man wasn’t chasing after me, but I found out a second later when I heard shots ring out from downstairs. I froze before reaching the stairway and hesitated. Yells came from down the staircase and then more shots. I realized Ciaran was down there and that gave me the extra spur to continue running.
That and the big man who had finally decided to give chase.
I managed to get down to the second floor. The sound below grew louder and sounded much more violent than before. I thought of Ciaran being hurt, of getting shot, and found myself looking over the banister in an effort to find him amongst the mayhem. At first I couldn’t see him and that scared the hell out of me, but finally I spotted him with several other men. They had their guns out and were trying to return fire to the men who had apparently burst into the mill and started attacking.
I knew they had to be Shane’s men, though Ciaran was the only man I recognized well enough to know who he was from this distance.
“Ciaran!” I shouted when a man shot at him.
Ciaran looked up at me. Our eyes met. In an instant, I sensed that connection all over again. It was wonderful and perfect—and then it was over. Someone shot at him again, making him duck. I heard the heavy, if slow, footsteps of the man coming for me. I dove for the next set of stairs and swung myself around to hurry down them and into the fray, which was probably not the brightest plan I’d ever had. But before I made it to even the first step, I plowed into a thick wall. I nearly tumbled back, but the wall, otherwise known as a man, reached out and grabbed hold of me, catching me before I fell.
I almost said thank you, figuring it was one of Ciaran’s men coming to help me, when I looked up to his expression. He grinned at me and it was full of menace.
“Elle!” I heard Ciaran scream at me from below.
“The boss wants to see you, little lady,” said the man whose hold I couldn’t struggle free from.
It didn’t matter how I tried to jerk out of his grip or kick him or anything. He just held tight. And then the man from earlier joined him, grabbing me around the waist and throwing me over his shoulder. “Let’s get the fuck out of here. She’s what Shane wants.”
I screamed and pounded at his back with my fists, kicked at his stomach, but it was useless. I wasn’t getting free. Still, I tried until the second man from the stairs pointed a gun in my face. “Keep still or I’ll make this a dead trip, understand?”
I nodded, frozen in fear. My eyes subconsciously searched out Ciaran. I saw him diving out from behind cover, not caring that others were still shooting at him. He raced towards the stairs and I knew he was trying to save me. I hoped desperately that he would, though I remained silent for fear of the gun aimed at my head.
I watched him as he ducked out of the way of bullets and slugged the men who got in his way. Just as he was reaching the stairs, a shot rang out that somehow seemed louder than the other. It hit Ciaran in the back. He went down. I screamed.
The men didn’t care. They carried me off and through the window of my supposedly safe room. I was crying, sobbing, needing to know if Ciaran was all right. Needing to know if I would be all right.
But these assholes weren’t going to tell me.
They got to a car parked off on the side of the row and threw me in the back. The one guy slid in beside me while the other got into the driver’s side. The man in the backseat aimed the gun at me. “Don’t try anything funny. Remember?”
I didn’t even acknowledge him. All I did was cry.
Was Ciaran still alive?
Chapter 15
Ciaran
It hurt like a son of a bitch. In fact, it was the pain that woke me up. It seared like fire across my shoulder as I felt metal tongs digging around in my flesh to find God knew what. My vision wavered between adrenaline fueled clarity and pain induced blackness. The clarity won out in the end, but only just barely.
I roared when the tongs moved around inside the hole in my shoulder and I finally jerked back unable to take it anymore. I moved just as someone said, “Got it. Damn, that was a bitch.”
I ended up rolling myself off the damn table and colliding with the floor, which I discovered was tiled. They’d moved me to the back room, which was set up kind of like a mixture between a bathroom and a mud room. There was a square walk-in shower with tiled flooring that drained at the middle.
I groaned, then tried pushing myself up off the floor. It took a minute, but I fought through the pain to clear my vision. Blood was slowly draining towards the center of the floor. My blood.
As I struggled to my feet, two strong hands offered their assistance. Mitch and Patrick. “Jesus, boss, trying to kill yourself today?” asked Patrick.
I shrugged off their hands. They hovered close anyway, trying to keep an eye on me, but I wasn’t interested in being overly cautious. My head was throbbing, my shoulder was burning, and I had the feeling that wasn’t the worst of it.
“What happened?” I demanded.
The last thing I’d seen was Elle being carried away by two of Shane’s goons. They’d raided the place. I didn’t know how in the hell they’d found it out, but I remembered Patrick had mentioned that some of our guys had jumped ship. I didn’t want to think any of them would have betrayed us like that, but they’d already left the Lucky Skulls, hadn’t they?
Not that any of that mattered now. All that mattered was Elle. And she wasn’t here. But she’s alive, I thought with fierce hope. If they’d wanted her dead, they would have just shot her, not carried her off like some princess being shoved in a tower. No, she was alive.
Probably because they wanted to get to me.
Not that they didn’t try their hand at killing
me first. I moved my hand over my shoulder and fingered at the wound. It burned and pinched, ached like a son of a bitch, and when I pulled my hand back my finger was coated with blood.
But I was alive and I had dear old Doc to thank for that. I looked to him. He was washing the blood from his hands, but glanced back at me and gave me a nod.
It was Mitch who answered my question, though. “They fucking came out of nowhere, boss!” he exclaimed, fury burning in his eyes. “Like a fucking tornado! Guns blazing, people dying. Shit, lots of people dying.”