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No comment, so Dog slammed the tip of the blade into the back of Hank’s hand. The cop howled, dropping to his knees, staring at the blood oozing from the wound, the knife wedged firmly in place.

“She’s with Luther. He’s taking her to his whore house.”

He turned to look at Forge. The prez looked pissed off. “Use your good hand and write down the address. Now,” said Forge. “Don’t fuck with me either, as you’re coming along for the trip. You’ll ride like a bitch behind Old Dog.”

Dog pulled his blade free, wiping the blood off on Hank’s pants. They all left the building, heading to their bikes. He hadn’t counted on not finding Sable. The tracker was on Hank, not her, but at least they had the information they needed now.

The so-called whore house was just on the outskirts of town near the country club. On the outside, it appeared to be a modest country estate, nothing to look twice at. To the trained eye, Dog noted the security, locking gate, and bars on the windows.

“Tell them to open the gates,” said Dog.

When the intercom sounded, Hank did as asked, and the gates began to open automatically. The bikes rolled in, taking over the place. This was going to get ugly.

“What is this place?” asked Forge. They usually knew about everything in their territory. Something of this nature should have been on their radar.

“Luther calls it his dollhouse. He keeps the women here.”

“You two are double-dipping. Didn’t you learn anything from your predecessor? You have to pick one side of the law,” said Dog.

He shrugged

. “These girls are nothing. Illegals, orphans, homeless. We’re doing them a favor,” said Hank. “They’re living the American dream now.”

“You sure they’ll agree with that?” asked Dog. He shoved Hank. “You shouldn’t have taken my woman. Now I won’t settle for anything less than tearing down your entire fucked-up empire.”

Once inside the building, the brothers spread out, rifles and handguns at the ready. The security was a joke, and they had them pistol whipped and tied together within minutes of entering.

“Where’s Sable?” asked Dog.

“I don’t know. We were supposed to meet at his office after he dropped her off here. He wanted her broken and trained. He’s probably already gone.”

“Well, you better fucking pray no one’s laid one finger on her,” said Dog, running up the staircase in search of her. Room after room, he opened the doors to find scantily clad young women, and none of them appeared willing to be there. At least the club pussy loved their place in life. Nothing was ever forced on them. MC life was different from anything out in the free world. Outsiders couldn’t understand their way of life.

This shit was a whole different beast. Grass was another level of evil.

“Down here,” Shadow called out. “I found her.”

Dog raced down the staircase, following the voice to the basement of the building. It was gloomy as fuck, no natural light. Naked girls were chained to the walls. He scanned the room for Sable.

“Dog!”

He turned to the voice. Sable was tied to a wooden chair, all her clothes on. She was alive and didn’t appear to have been tortured—yet. He rushed toward her, skidding on his knees as he neared, wrapping his arms around her waist. With his head on her lap, another brother cut the ropes around her wrists, and then she ran her fingers into her hair.

“I’m so sorry, baby.”

“It’s not your fault, Dog. I was stupid. I should have known better.”

He shook his head. “No, you’re my responsibility.”

She could be carrying his child right now. They both could have been lost. He tried to force back all the sick and crazy thoughts playing in his head. He had her back. And he’d never allow her to be taken from him again.

“Who did this, Sable?” asked Forge, all business.

“Hank and Luther. They wanted revenge on me and the club.”

He already knew, but to hear it from her mouth, he wanted to kill them both slowly. He’d need the prez’s permission for that, and with all the political drama, he doubted his boss would allow it just yet.

“Did they hurt you?”


Tags: Sam Crescent, Stacey Espino Breeding Season Erotic