Sydney Storm MC Complete Series

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Sydney Storm MC Complete Series Page 23

by Levine, Nina


  My whole body tensed and my nostrils flared as I took a deep breath. “Don’t fucking say that shit to me again. You know jack about me.”

  With that, I yanked her out of the bathroom, and flung the hotel door open. Shoving her into the hallway, I draped my arm around her shoulders and led her to the elevator.

  Every sense alert, I was ready to take on anyone who got in our way. I’d shoot my way out of this fucking casino if I had to.

  Tatum

  “Ghost” by Massive

  There were moments in your life that brought you to your knees. Moments that punched the absolute fuck out of you.

  I was having one of those moments.

  I thought life had already handed me my heart on a platter. Bleeding and bruised. Turned out life wasn’t done with me yet. Bleeding and bruised wasn’t enough.

  “Stop dragging your feet,” the big guy muttered as he dragged me through the foyer of the casino. His arm tightened around my shoulders as he picked up his pace. The front door was in view and I practically smelt his desire to make it through that door.

  I could hardly match his pace a moment ago; I wasn’t sure how he expected me to match his new speed. My whole body ached, and I was convinced my ribs were broken. The pain was excruciating and breathing only made it worse. On top of the pain in my body, my head throbbed, slowing me down further. I didn’t want to walk and I sure as hell didn’t want to think, but this asshole was giving me no choice. If I wanted to make it through the night, I’d have to do both.

  I attempted to walk faster, but my efforts only caused me to stumble. As I went down, his strong arms clutched me, holding me up.

  The new surge of pain through my body killed like a motherfucker and I couldn’t hold my agony in. I cried out, stifling it as much as I could, but the sound was enough to draw the attention of casino security.

  Suspicious eyes narrowed on me before swiftly looking at the big guy. Clearly the security guard didn’t like what he saw. He stopped us as we tried to exit the building.

  “Ma’am, are you okay?”

  The arm around me gripped my shoulder harder and I contained my wince. Nodding, I said, “Yes.”

  The guard stared at my face before glancing at my body. “No, I don’t think you are. Is this man hurting you?”

  My life flashed before my eyes for the second time that day. Was I really ready to die? Because that would surely happen if I didn’t do as the big guy had ordered. I knew that for a fact. He’d go down in a blaze of glory before he’d concede defeat, and I’d get caught in the crossfire.

  So, I pushed every thought out of my mind and focused completely on convincing the guard he was wrong. Pulling my shoulders back, I turned my body towards the big guy’s and wrapped my arms around his waist. Looking at the guard, I said, “He’s my boyfriend; there’s no way he’d ever hurt me. The bruises you see on me are from another asshole who assaulted me earlier tonight if you must know. Now, if you’d please let us past, I’d like to go home and forget this day ever happened.” The body my arms were wrapped around stiffened.

  The guard stared at me. Shocked. “Umm….” He cleared his throat, not seeming to know what to say.

  The big guy took his opportunity. “Thanks for your concern, man, but I’ve got this. I just wanna get her home, okay?” He may have tacked a question on the end of that statement, but his tone made his stance clear—he wasn’t actually asking for permission.

  The guard nodded as he took a step back. “Sure.”

  “Thank you,” I murmured as I was whisked past him, although I wasn’t sure what I was thanking him for. For all I knew, I may have just made one of the worst decisions of my life.

  * * *

  The ride on his bike was unbearable. Trying to cling to someone on the back of a moving bike while every muscle and bone ached was like playing Russian roulette. There were moments my mind drifted to thoughts of letting go. I imagined flying off the bike, falling to my death.

  Finally.

  No more pain.

  No more heartache.

  And then I imagined not dying. It’d be just my luck to survive that and end up in a wheelchair. My fighting instincts kicked in at that thought. I’d rather take my chances with the biker and try to find my way out of this mess than give up without a fight.

  We rode for what felt like forever. I breathed a sigh of relief when he slowed the bike and pulled into a back street. However, when I realised he’d taken me to his clubhouse, apprehension knotted in my stomach.

  Time to suit up, Tatum.

  The property appeared to be under heavy guard. A high fence surrounded it, with a gate manned by two men. They stopped us and after a few words with the biker, let us through. After that, two more men stopped us halfway down the long driveway before allowing us to pass. I wondered if this was normal procedure and figured it well could be. From everything I knew of the Sydney underbelly, you couldn’t trust many in this city.

  He parked the bike, killed the engine and ordered me off. “Keep your mouth shut in here unless you’re spoken to.”

  The lighting that illuminated the outside of the clubhouse cast a bright glow on him, revealing his hard, cold eyes to me. I’d avoided taking a good look at him in the hotel room after the assault, but in that light, I saw him vividly. His height and muscular build was almost intimidating as he towered over me. I was only five three, where he had to be over six feet by a few inches. It took a lot to intimidate me, though, and while he came close, perhaps the fact he didn’t kill me made the difference. He’d hesitated for some reason, which told me he had some humanity left inside.

  I nodded at what he said. While I wanted to tell him where to go, I had to be smarter. I had to shut up, stay calm and dig deep to silence my natural inclination to resist. Not to mention, I needed to suppress the agony screaming through my body until I was alone and could deal with it.

  He walked me inside and I gave all my attention to cataloguing the building, taking note of doors, windows and possible escape routes. I’d expected more bikers to be inside, but I only saw five. That seemed strange for a Friday night. One would have thought the clubhouse bar would be hopping over the weekend.

  The biker’s warm breath on my cheek startled me as he dragged me down a hallway. “If you think there’s a way out of here, think again, Vegas.”

  I ignored him, unwilling to accept defeat. I also ignored the name he gave me. It was better he called me that than ask me what my name was.

  We reached the room at the end of the hallway and he shoved me through the doorway after waiting a moment for someone inside to grant access.

  Darkness filled the room, the only light coming from a lamp in the corner. Squinting my eyes, I made out a large wooden desk with a computer and paperwork on it, a filing cabinet, a worn couch along one wall and a few seats scattered around the desk.

  I almost jumped out of my skin when a deep voice barked, “Who the fuck is she, Nitro?”

  Nitro.

  “She’s a witness.” He let me go and I placed my hand over my arm where he’d held me. As if I could soothe the pain.

  A man emerged from the shadows and my breathing faltered as he came into sight. It could have been the jagged scar that ran down one side of his face, or his massive build, or the way his body language told me to be wary that did it, but it wasn’t.

  It was his eyes.

  While Nitro’s eyes were cold and hard, this man’s glittered with crazy. I’d lived with crazy most of my life. And I knew to watch it with vigilance and always expect the unexpected.

  He moved so he occupied the space directly in front of me. Staring down at me, he said, “She’s a complication we don’t need. Why is she here?” His nostrils flared before he turned to face Nitro. “Why the fuck is she still breathing?”

  Every muscle in Nitro’s body appeared taut as he watched the other man. “She wanted him dead as much as we did, King.”

  “No one wanted him dead as much as we did.”

 
; “Trust me, she did.”

  They stared at each other, both seemingly unwilling to bend. “You need to deal with her before I do,” King said. When he said deal with her, I was under no illusion as to what he meant. I filed through my options, and was about to interrupt their conversation when Nitro spoke again.

  “He raped her.”

  King’s body tensed and his gaze flicked to me so he could scrutinize my appearance. As his eyes held mine, he said, “She’s a liability.” Then, looking back at Nitro, he said, “One you need to take care of.”

  I swallowed hard. King’s order sent a chill through me. I knew men like him and when they decided something, they didn’t back down. If I had any chance of surviving, I needed to find a way to get through to him. “I’m not a liability,” I said, holding my head high and my body tall.

  King’s eyes snapped back to mine. “I don’t give a fuck what you think. To my club, you are a fucking liability.”

  Taking a moment to get my breathing under control, I reminded myself it was the Storm MC I was dealing with. Nitro hadn’t been wearing his colours so I hadn’t known earlier, but the clubhouse announced this fact. These bikers weren’t known for their compassion or their leniency, but maybe I had a shot in hell. I would have died at that asshole’s hands earlier, but Nitro saved me. Then he gave me a second chance when he brought me here rather than shooting me. Maybe luck would come in threes.

  Suit up, Tatum.

  Suit the fuck up.

  I stepped forward.

  Closer to him.

  “I work for Billy Jones. He would not want me dead.”

  King stilled. “You’re one of his girls?”

  “Yes.” Kind of.

  His eyes narrowed at me. “How long have you worked for him?”

  “Six years.”

  That number was a winner for me. Everyone in Sydney knew that if a girl worked for Billy for longer than a year she was gold. He went through his girls like he went through his women. Fast.

  “Fuck,” Nitro muttered.

  It was also common knowledge that Billy would kill for his golden girls.

  King glared at me like he wanted to wrap his hands around my throat and squeeze the life out of me. “What’s your name?”

  My name was the last thing I wanted to give him, but I’d have to if I had any hope of escaping them. “Tatum Lee.”

  He turned away from me. “I don’t have time to deal with this at the moment, Nitro. Get her out of here and watch her until I can verify this.”

  With that, King stalked out of the office, leaving Nitro and me alone. Raking his fingers through his hair, he said, “I see you changed your mind about living.”

  “I decided I didn’t want to die at the hands of a filthy biker.”

  He scowled. “But you’d be happy to go back to Billy fucking Jones?”

  I returned his scowl. “He treats me better than you have.”

  Tension punched through the air between us and if I thought I’d seen Nitro angry before, something I said made his mood far worse. Dipping his face to mine, he snarled, “Get your ass out that door and to my bike. And don’t say another fucking word about Billy Jones to me.”

  “It would be my absolute pleasure to not say another fucking word to you, full stop,” I snapped, before spinning on my heel and marching out of the clubhouse.

  I decided then that I could deal with a lot of things, but bikers weren’t one of them.

  Nitro

  “Pretty Vegas” by INXS

  Tatum Lee was a pain in my ass.

  We’d arrived at my house an hour earlier and after she had a shower, I’d given her a shirt to wear and set her up in my bedroom because it was the only room with a bed. If she’d been anyone but a woman who meant something to Billy Jones, I’d have tied her to a fucking chair and left her alone. As much as I loathed Billy, he was one of Storm’s loyal allies and since we’d declared war on Silver Hell, we needed to keep every ally on side. Pissing him off was not a good move.

  “You’re not sleeping next to me in this bed,” she said as I entered the room and lifted my shirt over my head.

  “I’m not sleeping, Vegas. And I’m doing that in the bed next to you.”

  Raising her handcuffed hands in the air and jerking her chin at her feet that I’d tied together, she said, “You’ve detained me. I can’t go anywhere. I hardly think you need to be so damn close to me.”

  Sitting on the edge of the bed, I reached to remove my boots. “You and I would get along a hell of a lot better if you stopped thinking.”

  She muttered something under her breath that I didn’t catch. Not that I cared to hear it. The less talking we did, the better.

  Once my boots were off, I settled on the bed, my back to the bedhead, legs crossed at the ankles. Eyeing her, I ran my gaze over her body. Ignoring the bruises and swelling, I remembered how she’d looked when we first met on the casino floor. Besides the fact she had curves in all the right places, muscles that only accentuated those curves, long blonde hair that was exactly my type, and a beautiful face a man would never forget, Tatum Lee had skin that was inked to perfection. She had quotes tattooed on her legs that I wondered about. What had she been through in her life to permanently ink them into her skin?

  “What?” she demanded.

  I met her gaze and we watched each other cautiously for a few moments. Getting into a conversation may not have been on my list of priorities, but she seemed to be dragging me there.

  “I’m wondering what the hell possessed you to put yourself in that situation tonight? Because I’m guessing that you being in that hotel room wasn’t random. Not if you knew that guy murdered your brother.”

  Her mouth curled up in anger. “And I’m guessing that you’d do the same thing if someone murdered your family.”

  “Yeah, but I’m capable of not getting myself raped or killed.”

  “He beat me, and he got his dick out, but he didn’t fuck me with it.”

  I leaned in close to her. “He might not have, but he sure as fuck would have if I hadn’t shown up. And a word of warning—you may not play with those kinds of men often, Vegas, but they don’t hesitate to kill you if you piss them off.”

  She pushed her face near mine. “Why didn’t you kill me? And why the hell do you keep calling me Vegas?”

  Fuck, her fight caused my dick to harden. Waiting with a hard-on while King decided what we were doing with her was the last fucking thing I needed, so I moved off the bed. “Go to sleep,” I ordered as I left the bedroom.

  After I grabbed a beer out of the fridge I headed to the couch in the lounge room. As far away from Tatum Lee as I could manage. The desire to fuck her wasn’t one I needed to fuel by being near her. She’d complicated shit enough already.

  * * *

  “Nitro!”

  I jerked awake at the sound of Renee’s voice to find her standing in front of me, a worried look on her face. Sitting forward, I rubbed my eyes. “What time is it?”

  “You never called me back.”

  I ignored the accusation in her voice. Pushing off the couch, I said, “What’s the time, Renee?” The dark night clung to the windows still. I guessed it to be about three or four in the morning.

  “It’s just after five. Mum’s not good. I needed you and you weren’t there for me.” Her accusatory tone disappeared and all that remained was her broken spirit.

  Fuck.

  “What happened?”

  “Nothing happened. But she’s not coping, and she’s getting worse.” She paused for a moment, her face crumpling before the tears fell. “I don’t know what to do anymore.”

  I wrapped my arms around her and pulled her close while she sobbed. Forcing down the fury that tried to punch its way out of me, I said, “You’re not alone, kiddo. I had some shit to do last night, but I’m here for you.” Those motherfuckers would pay for what they’d done to my family.

  She clung to me for a while before letting me go and saying, “You need to make h
er see that psych again. She did better when she saw him.”

  I raked my fingers through my hair. Easier said than done. “Yeah, she did.”

  “I don’t care if you have to freaking kidnap her to get her there, just make that shit happen. Okay?”

  I raised my brows. “Condoning crimes now, are we?” Renee should have been born into a family of lawyers or fucking cops with the beliefs she held about crime.

  She ignored my question. It was a long-running difference of opinion between us that we’d probably never resolve. “She’s your sister. You need to fix her, because I’ve tried and I failed.”

  “Jesus, Renee, you’re seventeen and she’s your mother. It’s not your job to fix her and you sure as fuck haven’t failed her.”

  More tears slid down her face as she stood staring at me, pleading with her eyes for me to make this all better. If only life were that fucking simple. I didn’t want to break her even more than she already was, though, so I pulled her close again and said, “I’m going to sort this out, kiddo. You just need to focus on school and your shit, and let me get your mother better.”

  She hugged me like she never wanted to let go, but Tatum chose that moment to interrupt us. “Nitro! I need to use the bathroom.”

  Renee’s arms dropped from around me as she took a step back. Frowning, she said, “Who is that?”

  “A friend.”

  Spinning around, she headed towards my bedroom. “A friend who can’t walk to the bathroom?” Her intelligence and instincts were out of this world, and she liked to challenge me.

  “Renee,” I called out. “Stop walking.”

  She didn’t.

  “Renee!” I barked.

  My niece was as fucking stubborn as I was. She took after me more than her mother, probably because I’d practically raised her. At times like this, that came back to bite me in the ass.

  Spinning back around, she stalked my way. “Is that the woman from earlier who was in pain? The one you didn’t care about?” she demanded. “What’s going on here?”

 

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