by Jenika Snow
Evernight Publishing ®
www.evernightpublishing.com
Copyright© 2016 Jenika Snow
ISBN: 978-1-77233-863-8
Cover Artist: Jay Aheer
Editor: Karyn White
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
WARNING: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.
This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, and places are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
FURY
Bleeding Mayhem MC, 3
Jenika Snow
Copyright © 2016
Author’s Note
This is the third book in the Bleeding Mayhem MC series. It is suggested to read Mayhem, book two in the series, in order to understand the storyline and conflict in Fury.
Chapter One
Fury watched her.
He’d been watching her for the last couple of weeks, memorizing her routine, where she liked to eat lunch, whom she spoke with. He was stalking her, and he didn’t give a fuck how creepy and low-life that fact was.
She was a solitary woman, not speaking to anyone outside of the job she worked. And then he’d follow her home, watch her eat dinner alone, disappear into the bathroom for twenty minutes before coming out freshly bathed, and then end the night with her reading a book in bed. Fury never claimed to be anything more than he was. He was a bastard on the best of days and a motherfucker on the worst.
Angelina Cardona.
The daughter of the mob boss that had fucked over the MC, and the woman that was going to pay for her father’s crimes in the ways Fury saw fit.
But ever since they’d taken down her father’s business, at least for the time being, she’d been acting more and more aware of her surroundings. She knew shit was going down, and she knew she was going to get burned from the fire her family caused sooner rather than later.
****
Something was wrong. Angelina could feel it like icy fingers on the back of her neck. She could feel eyes on her, and sensed that she was watched. As much as Angelina wanted to act like she wasn’t concerned, and not give that pleasure to whomever was after her, she knew she failed. The truth was Angelina was scared. She knew what her father and brother did, knew what the Family was all about. But she’d left them, left all of that behind. She didn’t want to be a part of that violence, illegal activity, and degradation. Angelina just wanted to be herself and live a normal life. At least as normal as a person with her family background could have.
Angelina was just sick and tired of all the bullshit that came with being part of the “Family”. She just wanted normal, without having people afraid of her simply because of who her father and brother were. She might have been born into this world and that lifestyle, but that didn’t meant she had to stay in it.
She felt that prickling on the back of her neck again and looked over her shoulder. She just knew someone had to be watching her, that, or maybe her thoughts on her father and the Family were so thick in her mind she was paranoid?
No. I know better than that. I’ve been in situations my whole life where shit was shady.
But she was on her own, and she needed to deal with shit if it came to her doorstep on her own.
****
She was nervous. That was clear by the way she kept looking over her shoulder as she walked down the street. She wore a long jacket that reached her knees, and the hood from the coat was covering her head. But she was the one he was looking for without a doubt. She could have worn a fucking mask and Fury would have recognized her. He shifted on the seat of the SUV he was in and lowered his gaze to her legs that could be seen. Hell, he could only make out her calves and ankles because of her coat and skirt, but he was already sporting semi-wood from that sight alone. Yeah, he’d make her pay, but he wouldn’t hurt her, not like her father and brother had done, or tried to do. He’d get the information he wanted out of her, but he’d also show her what it meant to be with an MC member, especially one that had been fucked over by her family.
He rubbed a hand over his face and kept his focus on her, about to turn the engine over and follow her home. But that’s when he noticed a dark car across the street from the club. It sat there, the windows tinted out, but it had all of Fury’s instincts going on high alert. This wasn’t the best neighborhood, but the vehicle screamed money and looked out of place as hell. He knew, just by looking at it, that it belonged to the punk-ass and ignorant Cardona gang they’d dealt with just a few weeks past. Yeah, that car was definitely Cardona’s. But why were they following Angelina? Were they protecting her? That seemed like the most logical explanation, but he didn’t know why they just didn’t take her away from this little life she’d built for herself.
But that didn’t matter anyway, because he’d have her all to himself sooner rather than later.
He watched the car pull away from the curb and keep close to Angelina. She didn’t look back again, but she was tense, that was clear. She knew something was up, even if she might not know what that was. Or maybe she did. Hell, she could know all the details about her father and brother fucking with the MC.
It could have been Fury’s paranoia and tension, waiting for that other shoe to drop, or it could mean something more. He’d seen other dark vehicles around town whenever he’d gone out over the past couple of weeks. He had been around long enough, and done enough shady shit, to know when things were not on the up and up. Fury knew from a lifetime of fucked-up shit happening, that if he had a bad feeling about all of this then something was going to go down.
And if something were going to go down he would be ready with his guns held high. So he’d done some of his own research, made sure he was prepared to have a bargaining chip of his own. It was twisted and screwed up, but it was what he was going to do to ensure his club and the men within it were safe, that no one was going to get the upper hand over them.
Fury had never been one to jump headfirst and think later, but he was certainly doing it this time around. He might not give a shit if what he did was considered wrong or immoral. Hell, he did illegal shit all the time, but he thought about it first, made a plan, and then acted. But when it came to getting his vengeance on the Cardona gang, what he’d done was just act first and worry about shit afterward. Taking Angelina Cardona and doing with her whatever the fuck he wanted, while getting information out of her, seemed like a pretty good fucking idea to him.
But that was just it. He thought it was a good idea. The club didn’t, because, hell, they didn’t know what he was up to. They didn’t need to know until he had the information he wanted. It was going behind his MC’s back, wrong because of their code of ethics, but he had to do what he had to do.
He’d seen strange cars sitting across from the club, and could have sworn people followed him, watched him. If nothing came from this, and it was all in his head, Fury would deal with that. But until then, until he knew for sure what in the hell was going on, he was going to fucking do this.
He needed leverage, backup, and having Angelina would ensure that if shit got dark he’d have a pawn. And hey, he’d get something out of it, too. It was a fucked up move on his part. He knew that. He didn’t hurt women or children, and although he wasn’t about to beat her, kill her, or do anything else that would be retribution over what the Cardona gang had done, the MC was the most important thing to him. He’d do anything to ensure they stayed protected, and Angelina would be what he would use to make sure that happened.
Maybe the dark car being around Angelina wasn’t about her at all. Maybe it was actually someone from
Fury’s past coming to get payback, which was a possibility given the life Fury had led. There were plenty of people that wanted a piece of him, to get back, get even, if they ever found him. He’d burnt a lot of bridges in his day.
Or it might all be nothing, and I’m so fucking wrapped up in my own delusions that I am losing my mind.
When he watched her Fury didn’t wear his MC attire. He’d already taken off his cut, not about to have the club implicated in this. They knew nothing of what he was doing, and he wasn’t about to fuck them over because he had this burning desire to get even. Maybe if he’d brought it to the club they would have agreed and sanctioned what he was doing, but he couldn’t risk them voting it down. He had to do this, and until it was completed it was a dark, burning need inside of him. He pulled his baseball cap down lower, pulled up the lapels on the jacket he’d thrown on, and got out of the SUV to follow her. He kept an eye on the car that was tailing her, as well, but they kept a good distance from her.
He couldn’t lie and say she wasn’t easy on the eyes, and that made watching her, stalking her, that much easier. She was fucking gorgeous, but when his cock started to get hard thinking about her he told himself whose daughter she was. That was like ice water on a fire to him. But who the fuck was he kidding? It wasn’t like it got rid of his hard-on fully.
He might not know exactly what he’d do with Angelina Cardona once he had her, not fully at least, but he wasn’t thinking that far in advance. The only thing he was focused on was making sure he had leverage if her father, Sal, somehow came back from the dead, which was a pretty good fucking possibility.
Tonight was the night he’d get some fucking answers.
Chapter Two
Angelina had felt that pricking on the back of her neck the entire walk home, but she felt safe now, better that she was in her home with the doors locked. Was this shit all in her head? Was her paranoia so pronounced that the more she thought about what was out there the more she worked herself up?
Rubbing a hand over her face, she set her purse and jacket on the kitchen table and went over to the fridge. Wine sounded good right about now, that and a hot bubble bath. Maybe the alcohol and soaking in the tub would help alleviate some of her tension?
Angelina took the bottle and a glass, and headed upstairs. She hated living this life where she felt like she was on a ledge and the slightest wind would push her right off and into a bottomless pit. It was par for the course, she supposed, but Angelina just wanted a normal life. She didn’t want to be known as the daughter of Sal, a fucked up man that terrorized people, or the sister of a Cardona that enjoyed torturing his enemies for the sheer fun of hearing them scream.
Exhaling and setting the bottle of wine on the counter, she started the water and poured a capful of bubbles into the tub. She didn’t know how long she stood there, but the room started to get warm and moist from the humidity in the air, and she felt beads of perspiration start to dot her forehead. Removing her shirt, she tossed it in the basket, her mind thick with that worry that she’d never have the quiet life she’d always wanted. Angelina didn’t want to be anyone that was known, didn’t want to be anyone at all, in fact.
But, she supposed it was what it was. Sooner or later she’d be found, because she couldn’t hide forever, especially if the Cardonas wanted to find her.
****
Fury picked the lock, let himself into Angelina’s place, and shut the door quietly behind him. He stood there for a second, listening to the sounds in the house, and hearing the water running in the bathroom. Like clockwork she was in there bathing. He moved into the kitchen, saw she’d left the cabinet open to the glasses, and turned to head into the living room. Everything was silent, and he hadn’t seen that vehicle following her anymore.
His blood pumped through his veins, and adrenaline and wild energy inside of him filling his very cells. He anticipated this, had been following her around long enough, and now was the time he’d get what he came for.
Removing from his pocket a rag and the small bottle that held chloroform, he looked down at the glass jar. He’d bought it easily enough from some less than savory people he knew. Fury had always just used physical violence to make his point, but he wouldn’t do that with a female.
He made his way down the hallway, his boots making a soft thud on the carpet. Stopping when he was right in front of the bathroom door, Fury stood there a moment, hearing the water fully being turned off. A second later the sound of her stepping into the tub played out, and he couldn’t help the sudden arousal that slammed through him. Hell, he was a man, and she was a naked woman on the other side of the door. There would be plenty of time for playing with her, though, once he got back to his place.
And then he heard music playing from behind the bathroom door. It was classical, something sad sounding, and although maybe he should have felt like a piece of shit for what he was about to do, he didn’t care. He had to do this for his MC, to get back at those Cardona fuckers.
When he grabbed the handle and pushed it inward, the door opened soundlessly. He stood in the doorway, staring at the bathroom, steam filling the room, and Angelina with her back to him as she dried off. He looked at her nude body, her big, rounded ass, and the olive complexion of her skin. She lifted her foot and braced it on the in the tub, and started drying off her leg. He could see the side view of her big breasts, the mounds swaying gently as she continued to dry herself and hum with the music.
He stood there for several moments, doing nothing but watching her, feeling the dark arousal move through him, but knowing right now he was here for a job.
She was unaware of him still, and that would make this go a lot easier.
Taking the rag and bottle, he poured a generous amount of chloroform on the cloth, tucked the jar in his back pocket again, and took the few steps it required getting to her. Once he was right behind her, feeling her body heat, smelling the scent of lavender come from her, he felt his cock give another hard jerk. He looked his fill once more. She had curves that went on for fucking miles.
Getting back at her will help get back at those motherfuckers that hurt the club.
Fury could admit to being a lowdown motherfucker a lot of the time, but he’d never kidnapped a woman, or had plans of this magnitude for her. He wasn’t a woman or child abuser, and sure as fuck wasn’t a rapist. But what he did know was that he could get this pretty little Italian girl to want him before their time was up. Yeah, he didn’t doubt she’d want his cock, beg him for it, too.
He grinned at that thought.
He saw her body tense, and knew she was aware of him standing right behind her. She straightened and slowly turned around. For a second she just stared at him, her eyes wide, her fear clear.
“Hey, gorgeous,” he said in a voice that he knew was deep and dark, and promising a hell of a lot of things she was terrified of. Fury covered her nose and mouth with the rag. She started to struggle instantly. Looking up at him with wide, terrified eyes, she fought him, trying to pry his hands and the rag away. But despite her curves and will to survive, he outweighed her and overpowered her easily.
Within a few moments her struggle lessened, her eyes became heavy, and then she was finally out.
Fury picked her up before she fell to the ground, grabbed the towel, and covered her haphazardly with it. For just a second he stared down at her. Her black hair was matted to her face, the wet strands looking like spilled ink. She looked peaceful, in a drugged kind of way. He lowered his gaze to her mouth, her lips full and red, and slightly parted as she breathed evenly.
“Get it the fuck together,” he said to himself and left the bathroom. Setting her on the bed, he grabbed a bag from the closet and shoved some clothing in it for her. He was a bastard for taking her, but at least she could have some of her shit while he kept her captive.
He stilled, ran a hand over his hair, and looked at her. Was he really this fucked up that he’d resorted to drugging and taking a woman just to get back at someone who
fucked with his club? But he shook his head, pushing those thoughts away. He’d do anything for his club. Anything.
Chapter Three
Angelina slowly opened her eyes, the act harder than it should have been. Her head ached something fierce, and the pain behind her eyes was stinging enough she closed them once again and breathed through the discomfort. After a few moments she opened them again. The first thing she realized was she was in a bedroom … that wasn’t hers.
What happened?
Trying to remember what exactly happened was hard as hell, but she thought about it, needing to make sense of it all.
Came home.
Grabbed the wine.
Took a bath.
After that part she was drawing a blank, and her heart started beating hard and fast. Had she gotten drunk from the wine? She couldn’t believe she had. And even so she’d been in her apartment soaking in the tub.
What in the fuck happened?
Afraid to sit up just yet because of the pounding in her head, she looked around the room as best she could. There was a window across from her. The shades were closed, but she could see the sun shining through the blinds. There was a dresser off to the left, a door to her right, and … nothing else. The room was barren of anything else. She tried to move then, knowing she needed to get up and push past any discomfort to find answers, but when she realized she was immobile she looked down. Her legs were bound together, and her hands were above her head, tied to the headboard.
God. What in the hell?
She struggled to get her hands free, but a gasp of pain left her as the rope that was used to bind her wrists dug into her flesh even harder, abrading her.