"Handcuffs?" She glanced about for a second. "Yeah, don't you have a pair of bolt cutters out in the garage? That should take care of them."
Cain said something else, and then Cheery lowered the phone from her ear with a sigh. She put her hands on her bare hips as she looked around the room, and then stalked over to one of the men on the couch, laying on his back with his mouth drooped open.
When she put her foot up on his stomach and pressed down, the man woke up with a strangled gasp, sitting up as his eyes shot wide open. His gaze swung around until it settled on Cheery - where it immediately dropped from her face down to her bare tits, and his look of shock was replaced by a sly grin.
Cheery reached out and smacked that grin off of his face. "Close your damn mouth," she snapped. "How drunk are you?"
The man pondered the question for a minute, and then shrugged. "I'm pretty good, actually," he said. "I'm Fisher, one of the prospects, by the way. I don't think I remember you from last night..."
Fisher let the question trail off, clearly hoping for a name in response, but Cheery just maintained her flat glare. "Well, you've got another job to do," she ordered him. "You drive a vehicle out here?"
"Er, no," the young man responded, wisely deducing from the older whore's unforgiving tone that she wasn't looking for any sort of smart answer.
"Of course not. Did any of the prospects?"
Fisher thought for a moment. "Yeah, I think that Vlad did," he said after a few seconds of deliberation. "He's got that big truck of his that he loves, takes it everywhere. He probably brought it out here, too."
"Great," Cheery said, although her tone didn't budge an inch. "Go find him and wake him up. Get him here if he's sober enough to drive, or get his keys off of him if he isn't. And if you're not back here in under ten minutes, I'm going to rip your balls off before you ever make it to a full member of the Skulls."
From the way that Fisher's Adam's apple bobbed up and down as he swallowed, it was clear that he took that threat to heart. He immediately hurried off, nearly tripping over one of the half-naked girls sprawled out across the floor in his haste.
Well, hopefully that would help the men at this warehouse with the issue of transportation, Cheery figured, but she wasn't out of the woods yet. She still had to figure out somewhere to put all these girls they were bringing back. And from the sound of it, these women wouldn't simply be leaving by the next morning, like most of these idiots.
She stopped for a moment as that thought sank in. If she kicked these girls out, turned them away, she realized, they would have nowhere else to go.
This thought elicited another groan, and Cheery reached up and rubbed her forehead, trying to massage all the way into her tired brain. The night had started off so well, she reflected. Cain seemed ready to fuck her, and a romp with that man always left Cheery feeling tired but utterly, orgasmically fulfilled.
Instead, Cain had run off, Jenna had been kidnapped, and then men in masks blew up her kitchen with a rocket. Cheery had jumped in and helped evacuate everyone from the side of the house closest to the gunfire, and once the shots stopped, the party largely resumed. One of the Iron Skulls even drunkenly propositioned her for the rest of the night, and to his amazement, she agreed - and then rode him until his balls were totally drained.
But even while she'd been moaning and thrashing on top of the man's dick, Cheery's thoughts were still elsewhere, with Cain - and Jenna.
The girl was trouble, that much was clear. But it was also equally clear that Cain had somehow fallen head over heels for her - and she definitely reciprocated those feelings. Cheery had never before seen the older biker in love, but the signs were unmistakable.
Love; Cheery had no problem with love.
She just didn't like all the other messy problems that inevitably followed.
Finally, when better ideas failed to materialize, Cheery gathered up as many extra blankets as she could find and stacked them in a pile. She could drag them out to the barn, she figured, and lay them out there. It definitely wouldn't be four-star accommodations, or even one-star, but it would give these girls a place to lay down without banging their heads - and it would also keep them out of the way of the bikers when the Iron Skulls dragged their hungover asses up the next morning.
Halfway through gathering blankets, Fisher returned, this time dragging a shorter and rather chubby fellow along with him. "Vlad?" Cheery snapped, pointing a finger at the heavier young man before he could speak.
Vlad nodded, almost going cross-eyed with the effort of not gaping at the woman's dangling bare breasts.
Cheery smacked him anyway. "And you're sober enough to not crash into a ditch?"
"I, er, yes." The words came out stammered, but they seemed clear enough.
"Great." Cheery pulled out her phone and displayed the address that Cain had texted to her a few minutes prior. "Get in your truck and get over here. There are a bunch of girls who need to be driven back here. When you return, bring them to the barn."
At the mention of girls, she saw Vlad's eyes jump a little. "And if you lay a single finger on those girls, I'm going to make sure you lose it," Cheery threatened, glaring at them both. She reached behind her and picked up the pair of bolt cutters that she'd grabbed from the barn, waving it under the suddenly wide eyes of both Vlad and Fisher. "Trust me, these things can take off a finger - or a cock - just as easily as they can snip a lock."
She tossed the bolt cutters to Fisher, who fumbled and nearly dropped them. "Bring those out with you. Now get going!"
And both the young men scrambled to obey.
Once she heard the sound of a truck driving away down the gravel road, Cheery returned to getting the barn ready. She wheeled some of the half-disassembled choppers off to one side, and did her best to spread straw from some of the corner piles out evenly across the ground. It wasn't one of her better efforts, she reflected as she stood back with her hands critically on her hips, but it would probably be suitable for tonight.
After tonight, of course, she had no idea what she would do with all these girls.
"Men!" she grunted to herself, complaining out loud to the world around her. "Always rushing into things but never thinking them through! They'd lose their damn dicks if the things weren't attached to them."
Chapter twenty-six
The next hour flew by, full of frantic activity.
When Cain, Talon, and Bucky first roused the girls held captive in the warehouse, most of them still seemed too sleepy and disoriented to disagree with anything. Thanks to those bolt cutters from Cheery, it took next to no time to snip the girls free, and the bikers soon had them bundled up in whatever scratchy blankets and ill-fitting clothing was available and carefully helped into either the back of Vlad's truck, or the back of the van that the kidnappers had been driving. A quick search of Bulldog's pockets had turned up the keys.
Once the caravan had hit the road, however, the girls started to notice that something was wrong - and they announced this realization with sobs and wails that quickly spread throughout the group like contagion.
In the back of the van, Jenna quickly raised her own voice. At first, the other girls quieted and shrank back from her mainly due to her sheer volume and emphasis in her tone, but she, through calm words and sheer mental conviction, managed to calm down most of the panic.
In the rear of the truck, however, Fisher didn't do nearly as good of a job. The younger prospect had chosen to at least ride in the back with the girls to keep them from leaping out in a madcap attempt to escape, but he felt hopelessly lost when they began to wail.
"No, it's okay, you're safe now!" he tried to reassure them, but he couldn't even tell if they could understand his words over the roar of the wind as the truck high-tailed it back towards the Iron Skulls' home.
Fisher tried reaching out to pat the women comfortingly, but this approach was foiled on a couple fronts; first, the girls seemed to mostly be wearing little to no clothing, giving him very few places to off
er a comforting pat, and second, Fisher was not used to giving out any sort of comforting touch in the first place. Most of his touches to other people came in the form of swinging fists, not soft pats.
Fortunately, at least, the ride wasn't incredibly long. With a sigh of relief, Fisher recognized a few markers indicating that they were drawing close.
"We're almost back now!" he shouted, trying to keep a smile pasted across his face. "Don't worry, you'll be safe at the house!"
Around him, the women didn't look particularly comforted. One girl in particular shot him a look filled with equal parts frustration and distrust.
Fisher couldn't help but look back at that girl. She was shorter than most of the others, busty, with olive colored skin and slanted eyes that betrayed her Asian heritage. Even though she wore little more than a couple rags, revealing a wide expanse of cleavage, hips that momentarily made Fisher completely lose his train of thought, and short but very shapely legs, she also managed to wear that distrust like a cloak wrapped around her shoulders.
She didn't look fearful, however, he realized after a moment. Most of the other girls seemed to be half-paralyzed with fear, but this girl looked as though she was more angry than scared.
He leaned towards her slightly, dropping the smile that he knew wasn't helping him. "I promise, we're rescuing you," he tried again. "We're not going to let... whoever those guys are... take you back."
To be honest, Fisher wasn't entirely clear on who these girls were, or why the Iron Skulls were rescuing them. Cheery managed to be quite frightening when she tried, and her orders had sent him out the door before he'd even thought to ask why, or what was going on.
But as soon as he and Vlad had arrived at the address Cheery gave them, as soon as they'd brought in the heavy set of bolt cutters and had seen the girls handcuffed by the arm or leg to their beds, Fisher and Vlad had both known something was deeply wrong.
That feeling of wrongness grew stronger when, after they'd been cut free from their beds, the girls didn't run. Most of them even stayed on top of the flimsy, dirty mattresses, staring with wide eyes up at their rescuers.
It had been Jenna, surprisingly, who had taken charge. Fisher and Vlad didn't recognize her, didn't know her name until she announced it to the assembled girls, but there was no way to miss the fire that flashed in her eyes when she stared around with her hands on her hips, when she issued orders to the other girls. Jenna claimed to be just another freed captive, but even that day or two of freedom had dramatically changed her personality and had uncovered some source of inner strength.
Now, still staring at the Asian girl in the back of the truck near him, Fisher tried to rack his brain for some way to strike up a conversation. He edged closer, but he saw the girl draw away - and her hands tightened up into fists.
She thought that he meant to hurt her, he realized. In a flash, before he'd even considered the repercussions of his actions, Fisher was fumbling at his belt for the knife that he kept tucked away there.
The eyes of every girl in the truck widened when he finally tugged it free, and a couple of the more fragile appearing ones began to sob and wail once again. For a moment, Fisher thought about trying to calm them back down, but if he hadn't managed it before, he'd definitely fail while clutching a blade.
So instead, he turned the knife around in his hand so the handle extended outward - and then offered it to the Asian girl.
For a moment, she just stared at it, as if she didn't comprehend what the gesture symbolized. But then, moving with surprising delicacy, she reached out and carefully lifted it out from his hand. Her eyes stayed locked on his the entire time, as if she suspected that he was about to spin around and stab her after all, but Fisher kept himself still until the blade was no longer held between his fingers.
"See? I promise, we're not going to hurt you," he repeated, once the girl held the blade. "Now, can you at least tell me your name?"
She blinked those slanted eyes at him, and although she didn't move in any closer to him, he saw some of the tension leave her shoulders. Most of it remained, but a little drained away, as she reevaluated the situation.
"Mika," she said, her words clear even despite the whipping, howling wind. "And what is your name?"
"Everyone calls me Fisher," the biker replied, breathing a little more easily. Now that she knew his name, maybe she wouldn't turn out crazy and start stabbing at him.
"Fisher," Mika repeated, still staring at him. Fisher could see some sort of thoughts churning behind those big, dark eyes, but he couldn't tell what she might be considering. She kept on holding the knife, but her eyes no longer seemed quite so angry and distrustful.
The rest of the ride back to the house passed in silence, after that, with most of the girls still staring between Mika and Fisher, trying to guess what their uncertain future might hold. But Fisher kept on looking at Mika, feeling as though he was trying to commit her face to memory for some reason. And Mika, still holding that knife, kept on relaxing, little by little, until most of the tension seemed to have finally left her body.
The young biker didn't have much experience with the thoughts racing through his head, so he was forced to try and sort through them one by one, as they came.
Some of the emotions were definitely anger, and Fisher knew those ones well. Hell, those had been some of the strongest drivers to push him to join the Iron Skulls in the first place. But that anger, usually a generalized rage towards most of the world, or at least the parts that seemed to have it out for Fisher, seemed to have tightened into a spear.
The target of that spear still looked indistinct in Fisher's mind, but it had a name:
The fuckers who did this to Mika and the other girls.
There were other emotions, as well, suddenly linked to this girl crouching across from him, almost naked but still holding his knife. Fisher suddenly realized that the woman was no longer pointing the knife at him, but instead simply outward, away from herself. The knife wasn't a sword, but a shield against whatever in the world wanted to hurt her.
Fisher wanted to reach out for her, to sweep up this vulnerable but still somehow, incredibly, defiant young woman into his arms.
He knew that he couldn't.
But when their eyes next crossed, he risked a tiny little fragile smile - and felt his heart skip a beat as, for just a fraction of a second, she smiled back.
Chapter twenty-seven
Another hour passed once the bikers returned, and although the activity was different, this one was just as busy as the previous.
Fortunately for both the girls and the bikers, Cheery met them out on the front porch as they returned, her hands on her hips and her expression imperious enough to rival any ancient European queen. She'd managed to find a shirt and a pair of jeans, but even in the rather pedestrian garments, she radiated easy command.
The van pulled up first, with Cain, Bucky, and Talon all crammed into the front seat. They pulled off to one side, climbed out, and then opened up the back to reveal Jenna and the other dozen or so girls they'd fit inside.
Instantly, Cheery was there, helping the girls out, giving commands. "Welcome back, and thanks for all the heads-up about the two dozen new visitors to our lovely, humble abode," she called out in tones dripping with sarcasm. "Cain, we're putting them up in the barn, since there's literally no free horizontal space in the entire house. Can you go in there and check to make sure that everything's closed up and as insulated as possible?"
As Cain headed off, at least temporarily compelled into following orders by Cheery's imperious tone, the woman next turned to Jenna. "And you! You're the one who knows these girls best, so you need to join them, move among them and reassure them that everything's going to be okay."
"You two, don't think that you can sneak off!" Cheery called out to Bucky and Talon, who froze, looking guilty as they attempted to do exactly that. "I need you two to head inside and commandeer as much clothing from the girls inside as you can get your hands on without c
ausing a scene." She held up a finger. "And that doesn't mean taking it off of anyone else's body! Don't think I can't read your dirty minds!"
Talon managed to maintain a poker face, but Bucky's wide eyes revealed that he'd been considering just that idea. The two quickly hurried off to the house before Cheery could get another chance to further berate them.
By this point, Vlad and Fisher's truck had also returned, adding another dozen girls to the confusion. Through shouting and pointing, however, Cheery quickly got these extra young women also headed in the direction of the barn, many of them wide-eyed but without any full breakdowns.
"And you! What do you think you're doing!" she snapped at Fisher, who was attempting to move along with the crowd.
The young prospect froze. "Er, going with them," he stammered out, reverting to honesty in his confusion. "That girl, Mika, she's got my knife."
"And you think she's about to go running off with it?" Cheery fired back sarcastically. "Come on, you don't need to scare these girls any further-"
"No! It's okay. I'm not scared of him."
The other girls, Cheery, and Fisher all turned towards Mika, who had spoken out. She blushed furiously at the focus, and her eyes briefly dropped, but they came back up blazing a second later. "He isn't going to hurt me, I know," she said, trying to hold her head high even in the ragged, revealing clothing. "I trust him."
Cheery opened her mouth with some quick reply but then stopped herself before spitting it out. "Well, he'll be here tomorrow morning, and you can come see him as soon as you get up," she finally said, relenting a little and softening her tone. "But for now, we need to get all of you girls out of sight and somewhere that you'll all feel safe - and for now, that means no boneheaded bikers."
The tone of those last couple words communicated clearly to Fisher that the argument was over. Giving Mika one last little smile and wave, he trotted up to the house, following after where Vlad had already been smart enough to make an early escape.
CHAINED: A Motorcycle Club Romance Page 12