Havoc: A MC Romance (34 page)

The black widow spiders on their backs told me they were from Byron's rival MC. It didn't take a genius to know what they were doing. I was going to be some sort of leverage to take down my brother. But if I could only get away...I tried to break the duct tape around my wrists but it was no use. Even if I broke through, I couldn't just leap off a speeding motorcycle.

When we stopped at a bike repair shop, I knew it was their headquarters. I would only get a couple chances to escape. When my kidnapper cut my binds, I took off sprinting. But the fat biker was faster than I thought. He stepped in front of me and slammed his fist across my face, making me see stars for a moment. Next thing I knew I'm being carried over the shoulder of the man who took me and they're telling him to take me to the basement.

My eyes bounced back and forth, frantically trying to take in all my surroundings. You never know what small detail could save your life. Inside the motorcycle repair shop was a full-on bar, stocked with every kind of alcohol you could think of. Pool tables filled the open spaces and bikers and sluts were knocking back beers. They watched as we passed by. None of them would help me.

I wanted to scream and plead with them but the duct tape over my mouth only produced whimpers. He brought me down to a dark room that reeked of mold. A small rectangular window in the corner let in only a sliver of moonlight. The man set me down onto the cold cement floor. My bare legs shivered with goosebumps. I got a look at his patch and his name was Mason. Didn't know if it was his real name or a nickname that bikers liked to use a lot. His long jet black hair was perfectly straight and his grizzled beard gave him a maturity.

“I'm going to get you a blanket to keep you warm,” he whispered to me, going upstairs and leaving me alone. He didn't chain me up or anything. These bikers must be dumber than I thought. Or escape was impossible so why bother tying me up. I used my freedom to rip the tape off my mouth and I took in a breath full of mold and mildew. My mouth was dry and begging for a drop of water.

I waited for what seemed like hours until Mason returned with a blanket but he also brought a group of bikers with him. I huddled up into a corner and tried to stay as far away from them as I could. I'd been around MCs long enough to know what they did to women. But I wasn't going to be easy. I'd use my teeth, nails, and whatever else I could to protect myself.

A man with slicked-back hair approached me and wrapped the blanket around my back. His patches told me his name was Blaze and he was the president. “We're not going to hurt you,” he told me.

I didn't let him finish. “My brother Byron is going to kill every last one of you fucks when he finds me.”

The men got a good chuckle out of that. But he didn't like it when I spit right in his face, hitting him directly under the eye. His hand raised in the air and I braced for impact. But Mason stopped him, grabbing Blaze by the wrist. “Tater already gave her a good shiner, Prez. Byron might not like getting his sister back with two black eyes.”

Blaze looked ready to destroy Mason with just a glance. “Don't ever touch me again.” Mason let go of his wrist and Blaze wiped my saliva off, his gaze returning to me. “Tell us what you know about the Fires of Hell.”

Even though I despised Byron, I didn't want to get him killed. No matter how much he infuriated me, he didn't deserve that. I laughed right in Blaze's face. “Why would I tell you anything?”

Blaze grinned. “After my boys take their turn with you, you'll be spilling every dirty truth to me just so I can kill you and end your misery.”

Blaze wasn't throwing out empty threats. His fiery eyes truly meant it. I looked to Mason for help but he was staring at me with all the rest, like I was a piece of meat. Nobody was going to save me here.

“I'll give you an hour to decide. Give up everything you know or become our little plaything,” Blaze said.

The filthy bikers left me alone in the basement and all I could do was cry. It had been so long since I really cried—I mean full-on balling. Why did I have to be Byron's sister? Why did this have to happen to me? I lay on the cold cement floor and cried myself to sleep.

I woke up hours later and a minuscule amount of sunshine was beaming through the small window. My stomach grumbled and I told it to shut up. There were more important things to think about than food. Being used by every member of the Black Widow MC and then killed was at the top of the list. But that was not an option. I'd have to tell them something. Byron would understand. It's not like I knew anything important. Byron kept me far away from any MC business.

If I told them enough, maybe they'd let me ago. But I knew that was just a naïve dream. This dank room was going to be my coffin.

Time passed and I had no idea how long I'd been down there. Footsteps at the top of the stairs made me sit straight up. I expected Blaze and the rest but Mason was alone when he reached the bottom step.

“I brought you some food and water,” he whispered, placing a tray with a sandwich and glass of water.”

Manners went out the door as I stuffed the sandwich into my mouth, cramming it in until my cheeks puffed out. I drank from the glass, not even swallowing the food first. “Is this how you treat human beings?” I said finally.

Mason put his index finger to his lips. “You need to be quiet. They don't know I'm giving you food.” He looked to the stairs and listened. Once he was satisfied nobody was there, he talked a little louder. “You have to tell them what you know. You're not going to like what happens if you don't.”

“You guys will just kill me after I spill my guts. You might as well get it over with and shoot me now.”

Mason raked his fingers through his long hair. “Listen to me, Claire. This isn't a game. Your life hangs in the balance. I'm trying to do everything I can to make sure you don't rot down here. But you have to tell us something.”

I couldn't tell if it was a lie or not but I had nothing to lose by trusting him. “Okay, I'll tell you what I know about Byron.” Blaze stood up to get the others but I stopped him. “I'll only tell you, Mason.”

He crouched down and listened intently as I betrayed Byron.

“I gotta hand it to you, Mason. You really came through on this,” Blaze said. I was so glad he had forgiven me about the earlier incident. The rest of the MC was gathered around the table, waiting patiently for me to relay what Claire had told me.

“Claire didn't know much but that was already obvious since she's not actually a member of the Fires of Hell. What she does know is interesting though. The bitch told me they're working with the Mexicans.”

The meeting room went quiet. Tater rubbed his stomach, his eyes narrowed. “The Mexicans?How would she even know that? Like you said before, she's not an actual member.”

“I didn't believe her at first either. She stayed home sick from school one day and overheard her brother talking on the phone to a guy speaking in Spanish. Byron didn't even know she was there. Claire's telling the truth.”

Blaze folded his hands together and contemplated what was said. “The Mexicans must be supplying the Blacks with drugs for guns.”

E-Z shook his head. “Now why the fuck would the Mexicans do that? They want our fucking territory just as much as the Blacks.”

Blaze laughed. “We knew the Fires of Hell were doing some shady shit to gain so much power so fast. Now we know. The Mexicans believe they can get the Blacks to destroy us and then takeover whatever is left. Smart plan if you think about it.”

“What do we do with the girl?” I asked.

Blaze sighed. “You'll get to fuck her soon enough, Mason. The girl stays here until we trade her to Byron. But nobody touches her until we set up the trade with Byron.” Just the thought of my hard cock sliding into her wetness made me almost climax at the meeting table.

The boys continued to talk about Byron but all I could think about was fucking Claire all night until my balls ran dry. I wanted to wrap her hair around my fist as I took her from behind, slamming my hard shaft into her with every thrust, making her scream my name as she comes around me.

Blaze slammed on the table, pulling me out of my fantasy. “Where the fuck are you, Mason? Like I was saying, we need to figure out how to get Byron's attention. Once he knows we have his sister, we have to move fast.”

E-Z rubbed his eyes. “Fuck all this, Prez. Why don't we cut the cunt up and send Byron the pieces. That'll get his attention.

My hand slowly moved behind my back and to my Remington. If E-Z made a move, I'd have to take him out. He was my brother but our club had rules—no killing women or children. Plus I hadn't gotten a chance to fuck the bitch yet. Never get in between a man and his prey.

“That wouldn't accomplish anything you asshole,” Tank said. I took my fingers off the butt of my pistol and returned my hand to my lap.

“Let's send him a picture of his sister all tied up. That will be enough to get his attention. We tell him our demands and set up a meet. It's as easy as that,” Blaze said. “Can you handle the picture part, Mason?” I nodded. “Good. Meeting adjourned.” Blaze slammed the gavel down and we left.

I wanted to talk about the plan some more with Blaze but I knew he wouldn't listen to reason. Just asking Byron to give us all his weapons and drugs doesn't mean he won't keep a secret stash for himself. This trade would only infuriate him more and give Byron more of a reason to come after us.

I paced back and forth in the basement, wondering if escape was actually possible. They seemed so confident that it wasn't, that they didn't even bother to tie me up. I had taken off the duct tape from my mouth and tossed it away. Screaming for help would only bring the bikers down to beat me some more. I had to play this one smart. I peeked up the stairs at the old wooden door and didn't even spot any locks. If they were just going to kill me anyways, wasn't escape worth try?

I removed my flats and ascended the stairs barefoot, making sure to step lightly. I didn't even make it two steps when Mason opened the door and caught me in the act. He was grinning and carrying a bunch of ropes in his hands.

“Trust me, trying to escape isn't worth it. There's plenty of men up there that will gladly shoot you and send your pieces to your brother.”

“Going to tie me up after all?” I replied, stepping back into the basement.

“We're going to have a little fun.” His smile stretched all across his face as he pulled the ropes taut. My heart jumped into my throat. I wanted to run for it but there was no getting by Mason. He was too big and strong.

I shook my head and backed up into a corner. “Please don't do this,” I pleaded with him. The thought of being forced against my will on this cold cement floor made me want to puke.

“It's not what you think, Claire.” Mason produced a bulky Polaroid camera from behind his back. “We need to send some pictures to your brother. I promise I'll only keep you tied up for the photo shoot.” The look in his eyes told me differently. He stared at my breasts under my shirt with x-ray vision.

But I didn't have much say in the matter. Mason might have been one of the better bikers but I had no doubt he'd beat me senseless if I didn't follow the rules. “Go ahead and tie me up then.”

Mason grabbed my wrist and pulled me up the stairs. “Not here. We're going to do this in
my
room. We don't want Byron to think that we're treating you poorly.” He dragged me along, out of the basement and into the bar. It must have been early in the morning but the place was filled with bikers drinking and fucking prostitutes on the pool tables. I watched as one of the women moaned, being choked hard by the fat guy that hit me the day before. My hand felt my sore cheek that was surely all black and blue.

I followed Mason up another set of stairs and came to a bedroom with only a queen-sized bed and a desk. Mason closed the door behind us and threw the ropes onto the bed. “Is this where you force yourself on me?”

Mason almost slapped me across the face. “You sure got a mouth on you. I don't like to hit women but I will if I need to.”

“All you bikers are the same,” I murmured to myself.

“Your brother must beat you around a lot. You probably deserved it. Now sit down on the bed.”

He didn't know how right he was. Byron was overprotective to the point where it was always my fault. His hand crossed my face more times than I wanted to remember. Sometimes he let one of his “brothers” deal out the punishment if I ever got out of line. If the Black Widows ever give me back to him, Byron is going to unleash hell on me.

Mason grabbed the ropes and tied my hands behind my back, making sure the rope dug into my wrists. “If this is just for show, why do they have to be so tight?”

Mason tightened the ropes further until my wrists almost snapped. “I want him to see the discomfort on your face. It will make it more believable.” Mason breathed in deeply sniffing my hair. I almost gagged. He grabbed a roll of duct tape and tore off a piece with his teeth. He placed it over my mouth, carefully making sure not to get any of my hair stuck.

Mason stepped back away and looked me up and down. “It just need a little more.” He grabbed my colorful top and pulled it down, ripping it in several places until one of my black bra was exposed. He stared down at my cleavage, his finger tracing the top of my mountain peaks. The burning desire in his eyes was evident and his touch felt so good. The thought of him taking me all tied up on the bed awoke a passion in the pit of my stomach.

Mason broke away and fiddled with the Polaroid camera. My blood was screaming in my veins, telling me to let him have every inch of you. Good thing my mouth was taped shut, otherwise I'd be telling him to fuck me silly.

Mason put the camera to his eye and stared through the viewfinder. “I need your eyes bigger. Make it seem like you're in grave danger.”

Mason snapped away, the camera spitting out Polaroids onto the ground. I felt like a dirty model where the photographer would ask at some point for me to take my top off. I would have done it if Mason asked.

Mason put the camera down and bent over to pick up some of the developing pictures. He waved the Polaroid through the air until it came into view. “Looks perfect,” he said, showing me the photo. This was the first chance I got to see myself since they kidnapped me. My hair was all over the place and dark makeup ran down my eyes from crying so much. The photo would definitely get Byron's attention.

Mason ripped off the duct tape from my lips and untied my hands. My wrists felt a little raw but they'd heal.

“So why is your MC doing this?”

“Doing what?” Mason asked, placing the ropes on the desk.

I tried to fix my hair as best I could without a mirror. My makeup was a lost cause. “Trying to get after Byron. What did he do to you guys?”

“The Fires of Hell want our territory. We're striking first. Hoping we can come to an agreement before our MCs shed too much blood.”

I laughed. “And you think he's going to give up everything for me?”

Mason looked me in the face, his dark eyes staring into my soul. “I would.”

“Do I have to go back to the basement?” I asked.

Mason collected the rest of the photos. “You can stay in my room until the trade. I need to get these to Blaze and then delivered to Byron. You might be here for a little while longer so get comfortable. And don't try anything stupid. All those bikers downstairs are armed and I don't want to see your bullet-ridden corpse bleeding all over the place.”

After he left, I ran to the bathroom to relieve my bladder. Those sadistic fucks probably wanted me to piss myself down there in the basement. I looked around the sink and medicine cabinet for anything that could be used as a weapon. Mason was good to me but who knows what the others might do. The drawers were filled with all sorts of women's products. Makeup of all different kinds and tampons. How many women did Mason bring up here?

I rubbed the mascara off that had run down my face and reapplied my makeup with whatever I could scrounge up from the drawers. I stared at myself in the mirror for what felt like days. Could I get out of this situation alive? Even if I did, was Byron the one I wanted to go back to?

Guns scared the hell out of me. Byron used to take me shooting out in the desert with his biker friends before the MC days. I got pretty good with a pistol—could hit a empty can from twenty yards away. But that wasn't the same as pointing it at a human being and firing. I checked the magazine and saw that it was hollow. Even an empty gun could be used effectively.

I sat down on the edge of the bed with the pistol on my lap. My fingers traced the cold steel, running along the barrel. I listened hard for footsteps outside the door. I needed to take Mason by surprise. Maybe use him as a hostage to escape this hell. But there were so many armed bikers downstairs. Even if I got away, a storm would follow me wherever I went. I'd be looking over my shoulder for the rest of my life.

A creaky floorboard outside the door brought me to attention. My finger wrapped around the trigger as I raised the gun. The blood was thumping in my ears, my hands shaking. The doorknob turned and the door slowly opened.

Mason walked in and his eyes burst open. “What the fuck are you doing, Claire?”

I tried to keep the gun steady, remembering what Byron taught me.
Breathe, Claire.
“You're my ticket out of here, Mason.”

Mason smirked and let out a little laugh. He stepped forward, paying no attention to the gun pointed at his chest. “You think I'm scared,” he said. “You don't have the balls to shoot me.”

“Don't test me, motherfucker! I'll fucking kill you if I have to.” My voice cracked as I yelled. I wasn't the most convincing.

Mason took another step forward until the gun was only inches away from his chest. He was right though, even if the gun was loaded, there was no way I could kill someone. Like lightning, his hand came out of nowhere and smacked the gun right out of my hands. It went flying through the air, spinning and landing on the desk where it belonged.

Mason jumped at me, pushing me down onto the bed. “I should whip you for that.” His eyes were dark and full of rage. The full weight of his body was crushing me and his face was only millimeters from mine. I tried to squirm out of his grasp but he had me pinned right where he wanted. My chest heaved up and down, begging for any air my lungs could get a hold of.

He glanced down at my parted lips and I knew exactly what he wanted. I wanted it even more.
Kiss me. Kiss me god dammit!

Mason heard my invisible pleas and pressed his mouth against mine. Everything fell away. The horrible frat party, the kidnapping, the biker nightmare. It was all gone. Only Mason and I were left.