Nitro's Torment
Page 6
- Background:
- Text Font:
- Text Size:
- Line Height:
- Line Break Height:
- Frame:
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.
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.
