Mark was dead, and it was Tyler’s fault.
Suddenly I could give a shit less about the room. I had let Sara walk out there to him to be stripped and humiliated because she asked me too. I had allowed her to walk about to that fucking car with a guy who she feared more than anything.
Mark was dead.
Mark was dead.
The walls of my childhood home that had been repurposed to fit someone else’s dream shot by in a blur, and then there was open air and a night sky.
I ripped open the car door to see Tyler on top of Sara, while she struggled underneath him. Fortunately, she was still dressed. It appeared I had shown up before he could do anything.
My gun was in my hand and pointed at his fucking head before he even fully comprehended my presence. My body shuddered with each breath as I fought the urge to pull the trigger and just blow his fucking brains out.
The look of relief laced with fear on Sara’s face was heartbreaking.
“Ryder,” she said, eyes wide, as if to say: what have you done?
And then that piece of shit started laughing.
“What the fuck are you laughing at?” I snarled, finding the willpower keeping my finger from pulling the trigger wearing dangerously thin.
Then, there was a click, and I knew.
Fuck.
The gun entered my peripherals first, and as I turned to see which of Tyler’s B-string lackeys had come along to guard the boss while he raped Sara, I damn near pulled the trigger out of shock.
“Put the gun down, Ryder,” Mark said.
He was alive.
Mark, my second. A guy I had been to hell and back with stood before me, returned from the death I had just been mourning.
“Ben said you were dead,” I said. “What the fuck is going on, Mark?”
“Ben’s an idiot,” Mark said,. “Always has been. Now put the gun down and we’ll talk.”
I lowered the gun.
“Give it to Tyler,” Mark said, looking at me with a sharpness I had never seen before.
Tyler reached for the gun, and I almost fucking killed him. But, I couldn’t. There was Sara, still pinned under him, her eyes wide with fear. She was pleading with me to not get killed.
If I were to get killed, there would be nothing to stop them from doing whatever they wanted to Sara, and I couldn't ’t let that happen.
My hands shook with rage as Tyler grabbed the gun.
“Move,” Mark demanded, motioning me towards a nearby van.
“You’ve got me,” I said, looking at Mark how I always did, as his superior, as his alpha. “Let the girl go.”
“Put him in the van,” Tyler said, the thickness in his voice suggesting that he was quite drunk. “I’m not done with our new little toy yet.”
Sara’s eyes flew to me.
I opened my mouth to give Tyler one chance to get off her before I fucking killed him, but Mark spoke first.
“We’re making a scene, boss,” Mark said. Boss. “We need to get out of here before someone calls the cops.”
Smart. Sensible. Two of the reasons Mark had been my second.
Tyler rolled his eyes, standing up and grabbing Sara, roughly pulling her out of the car.
She wore a new pair of purple lingerie.
Tyler was fucking dead.
“Come on,” Mark said, motioning me forward with the gun again.
Tyler was pulling Sara behind me.
I walked.
Mark motioned for me to crawl into the back of the van, and I was already thinking about all of the ways I could kill him for this. Tyler forced Sara into the back of the van with me, and the doors slammed shut. We could hear them locking.
I had to get us out of here, but first I grabbed Sara.
Her entire body shook with some combination of fear and likely cold as I held her.
The car lurched forward and we went flying into the doors. I used my body to shield Sara, feeling the metal collide with my spine.
Fuck, that hurt.
“Are you okay?” I asked.
Sara nodded, looking down.
I held her back slightly and pulled my shirt off, handing it to her. It wasn’t much, but it was something to go over the scraps of lace that she was wearing.
Once she was dressed, I pulled her into my arms again.
“They’re going to kill us,” Sara said, her shaky breath gliding against my arm.
“I’m not going to let that happen,” I replied, holding her tighter.
There was no way to get out of here while the car was in motion, and they both had guns. And they were absolutely taking us to one of their places where there were likely more of Tyler’s boys waiting.
It became clear as the sound of the car changed that we were in some sort of garage or something. I held Sara tighter, bracing us for the car to stop.
We listened as the sound of someone fumbling with the backdoors echoed around us.
“Come on,” Mark said, gun at the ready.
We were in some sort of warehouse, judging by the roof over us.
Sara and I began to walk forward.
Mark was not alone. There were three of Tyler’s other boys around him who also looked ready to shoot.
I moved forward with Sara as we climbed out of the van, wondering how possible it was that I could take these guys out without getting Sara shot in the crossfire.
Chances seemed low.
“Over this way,” Mark said, turning and walking towards the left side of the warehouse.
Tyler’s boys kept their guns fixed on us, ushering us in the direction Mark had gone.
The black car Tyler had been with Sara in pulled up and he got out, glancing over at us.
“Tie them up,” he said, before strolling off to a lit up area on the right that appeared to have a TV and fridge.
This was clearly one of the places they kept stolen goods.
Mark threw his hand up in acknowledgement, and Sara and I were herded towards a pole in the middle of the room. Three guns on us.
“Why?” I asked Mark, face straight.
It was a simple question.
“Because you were never going to make me enough money,” Mark said, shrugging. “Now sit down with your back to the pole, sweetheart,” he said to Sara.
She obeyed, shaking from the cold even with my shirt on her.
I watched, my body so tense it was aching as Mark tied up Sara with some rope.
“Alright, now you,” Mark said, matching my gaze again with that foreign sharp one he had now mastered.
Keeping my body tense, I sat down opposite Sara with my back to the the pole.
Mark moved forward, tying me up with incredible adeptness.
“I’m going to fucking kill you for this,” I said to Mark, quietly. “And I will not mourn your death this time around.”
Mark said nothing, just motioned to the other guys to follow and walked away.
Sara was shivering, and I felt her fingers reaching towards mine.
“I am so sorry,” I said, grasping her hands.
“Later,” she said. “Now let go of my hands so I can untie you.”
Brilliant, clever, beautiful girl.
I released her fingers, though it was surprisingly difficult.
Immediately, I could feel motion and tugging on my wrists as Sara began to work around the rope, trying to free me.
“You’re a fucking goddess,” I said, under my breath, leaning my head back against the cool bar as she worked on the knots.
When I felt the rope loosen around my wrists, I damn near fucking lost it.
“Shit,” Sara said, and I felt her tension against my shoulders. “Tyler is coming.”
Fuck.
“I’m going to act like I’m still tied up,” I said, quietly.
As Tyler approached, my eyes narrowed.
“You know, I’ve never really been into people watching, but I really want you to see this,” Tyler said, moving towards Sara.
She immediat
ely began thrashing.
Tyler laughed, and it took all my self control not to kill him right there.
It had to be the right moment.
Tyler untied Sara clumsily. He reeked of vodka.
“Come on, sweetheart,” Tyler said, dragging Sara in front of me. “Let’s give him a show, alright?”
Sara stood next to him as he held the ropes around her wrists, grinning at me like the god damn devil himself.
“So what do you want to see me do to her first?” Tyler asked, tugging on Sara’s bonds.
“Let her go,” I said, glaring. “Or I will fucking kill you.”
“Tits it is then?” Tyler said, and he grabbed gracelessly towards Sara’s breast, missing as she squirmed away from him.
He laughed before slapping her roughly across the face.
Sara cried out, tears immediately springing to her eyes, and then all sense of a plan that we had made was gone.
Nope, fuck this.
Tyler was underneath me before he even had a chance to pull out his gun, and when my fists started flying, I knew I wasn’t going to stop until he was dead this time.
One strike.
Tyler’s nose began pouring blood.
Second strike.
Tyler giggled as my fist collided with his trachea.
Another. Another. Another.
“Ryder,” Sara said, insistently. “He’s dead. He’s dead.”
When I looked down at the bloodied, mangled pulp of Tyler’s face, I knew I’d broken him beyond repair.
I felt no remorse as I stripped the gun from his body and stood, my fists covered in the stickiness of Tyler’s freshly spilled blood.
“Let’s go,” I said to Sara, setting into motion.
They would die for this, but first we needed to get out of here.
In the distance, I could see Mark.
Motioning for Sara to stay quiet, I moved towards him, waiting to be close enough to shoot.
My shoe squeaked, and Mark turned, eyes wide.
He fucking knew.
“Goodbye, brother,” I said, pulling the trigger before he could respond, before he could say anything to twist the truth with his words.
Mark’s body fell, and I turned to look at Sara.
Her eyes were wide, her lips trembling.
“Come on, baby,” I said, trying to sound gentle despite the fact that I was in kill mode.
Looking around, I waited for any sign of motion. Any sign that the other three guys that had been here had heard the gunshot and were coming after us.
Nothing.
Of all the dumb fucking luck.
“Look,” Sara said, dragging me from my disbelief and pointing towards a beautiful bike by the door.
The deep purple glimmer where the moonlight hit it was damn near breathtaking.
And there were fucking keys.
“Bike,” I said, moving Sara forward in the direction of it.
There were no helmets, but this wasn’t a time I could even afford to worry about it. As I straddled the bike, feeling Sara settle in behind me, I knew we were free.
This wasn’t my bike, but she looked like she would do just fine.
When the bike roared to life, a sense of calm hit me.
The fire in my veins simmered.
We would be safe now.
Tyler was dead.
We would travel, we would lay low, and maybe we would take car of each other.
Of course, that was a talk for a later time.
Epilogue: Sara
Surrendering myself to the police had always seemed like such a natural thought. I saw it time and time again on tv, and while the characters would surely fight it, there was always the inevitable fact that they let the police take them. They surrendered themselves. Of course they did. I mean, who wouldn’t?
I prepared for that, for the inevitable moment where we would be caught. People were dead. Surely eventually we would be found.
Life had prepared me for that surrender, but somehow it had ever prepared me for surrendering myself to Ryder.
Well, not like this.
Ryder had a new game he liked to play that involved me tied up and waiting. The amount of time always varied in such a random way I gave up entirely on even trying to find some indicator of when he would actually start touching me.
Sometimes I swore he did it just because he could.
Dick, I thought, rolling my eyes beneath the blindfold.
Another part of his game. And, yeah, I liked it a little more than I probably should.
I scolded myself. From now on, I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of getting me worked up from this. No, I was going to make him actually work for it this time. If he wanted me turned on, he was going to have to try much harder than his silly little games.
I was stronger now.
All I had to do was distract my mind, think of normal things. It would be easy.
Allowing my mind to drift, I thought of today’s ride on the bike. Ryder was really starting to get good at flying over the dirt roads around our home. New Mexico wasn’t perfect, but it sure beat the hell out of jumping from hotel to hotel.
It felt really nice to have something that was mine after everything I had lost. The new life was worth it, and I was certain of that, but it still hurt to mourn the old life I had lived. The stark contrast between how I had lived my life and how I was living it now was brutal, but I wasn’t going to complain.
After we realized that the case wasn’t being actively pursued, we couldn’t get to New Mexico fast enough. There wasn’t enough to trace to us, according to Ryder’s boys, so it had gone cold and now we were free to live our lives in quiet comfort.
Home. We had a new home with each other. It was tiny and quaint, and perfect. Everything a home should be. More importantly, we had a place of our own.
Though, sometimes I did miss some parts of the motel life.
I bit my lip, imaging a particular motel comforter that had bore witness to one particularly delicious punishment with the belt. To be fair, I had really earned this one, and Ryder spanked me in a way that said the very same thing. My cries of pain and pleasure had bled together into a chorus of pathetic sounds until he had finally decided I had paid for my sins before promptly taking me for all I was worth.
It had been glorious.
I groaned internally, cursing myself. God dammit.
My thighs squeezed together slightly as I recalled the beautiful sharpness of the belt colliding with my already tender ass. Of course I had also been punished the day before for certain transgressions.
Ryder’s chuckle floated down over me.
It was time.
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Midnight Ryde: A Bad Boy MC Romance Page 17