“Are you gonna kill me or what? Something else? If you wanted to fuck me, you could’ve just asked,” I said as we started driving again. Slower this time, and then he parked and sighed.
“You’re not going to die and I don’t want to fuck you. You’re gorgeous, but I’d prefer not to be murdered by that hulking Italian who’s always watching you.”
My hollow chest cracked at the thought ofhim. I ignored the pang and scolded myself for caring.
Fuck my feelings. And fuck that guy.
The door opened and someone–a man–pulled me from the van and escorted me into a building. We walked down a hallway and into a room that had an echo. Based on the sound of my shoes scuffing cement, I’d have to guess it was a room built for torture. We had plenty of them, I’m sure others did too.
The man pushed down on my shoulders until I was sitting on a hard chair. He leaned over me to hook a chain to my handcuffs. As he did, I recognized the scent instantly.
“You didn’t even give me a chance to meet you,” I smirked, looking at the culprit even though I couldn’t see through the bag on my head.
Bash yanked my ankle and attached a cuff to it. And did the same to the other ankle. Hmm, that would be trickier to bust out of than the handcuffs.
“You sure know how to treat a girl, Bash. How are the ladies not lining up around the block for you?” I teased, letting my head fall back. I wasn’t dressed provocatively, but I thrust my tits out anyway.
“Better watch it, Killer. One of these days we’ll use these restraints for fun. Right now it’s all business,” Bash said against my ear before patting my head.
“I’ll get you back for that,” I warned.
I guess my life leading up to this point had prepared me for just about anything. I wasn’t scared or worried about what was going to happen to me.
I was numb.
Lost in a cloud of self-pity, I was ripped out of it and thrust into cringy fluorescent lighting when Bash pulled the bag off my head. As my eyes adjusted, I took in an array of men surrounding me.
Wearing leather cuts adorned with that familiar skull and rose combo.
“Fucking bikers? Are you kidding me?”
Bash was right in front of me and Finn was standing next to him. Both wearing cuts.
“Sorry it had to be this way, babe. I didn’t have time to wait for you to grow a pair of balls and meet me,” Bash smiled, his long dark hair pulled back into his signature manbun. “It was now or never.”
“So this is your big secret? I thought you lived in Fremont and ran some gun operation for Dominguez?”
“I’m very tight with Dominguez and all his guys, but I’m a Sinner through and through. When my brother went missing–good job,by the way–I started talking with Leonardo and we made a startling discovery.”
“What’s that?” I asked as I looked at the men surrounding me. They weren’t predatory but they didn’t look overly friendly either. Most of them were younger–aside from one–and clean looking. Not the stereotypical biker gang I was expecting.
“Let’s just say all roads lead to Dante Dutton.”
Fuck.Fuck.
I always knew that asshole would be the end of me, I just didn’t think it would happen so soon. I was only eighteen. I’d hoped to make it to at least thirty.
“Allow us to introduce ourselves,” a man said, stepping in front of me. He was older, maybe in his mid-forties, but he was hot.
LikeDaddyhot.
Short auburn hair, chiseled jaw covered in a neatly trimmed beard, muscles and tattoos galore. And that leather cut with a patch that saidPresident.
“I’m Eli. President of the Sinners. I know your dad from way back.”
“Let me stop you before you waste your breath,” I said with a sigh. “I don’t mean shit to my father. Yes, I’m useful in some situations, but he wouldn’t blink if you murdered me and sent me back to him in pieces. Whatever your plans are for his punishment, using me won’t work. You’d be better off blowing up his precious car or his ugly suit collection.”
Eli laughed, amused by my monologue, but I wasn’t kidding. I wouldn’t even get a funeral if these bikers decided to chop me up.