Outlaw MC Bear (4 page)

“
I
—I…”

The woman’s lips tightened. She gulped once, and she started to go down like a felled tree.

“Oh damn.”

Silas scrambled to catch her as her knees buckled, and got a half-decent grip before she crumpled onto the elevator floor. He shifted the mysterious brunette in his arms, trying not to notice the sweet floral scent of her perfume. As he clutched her to his chest, a growl trickled from between his lips. She was out cold. His muscles bunched, but it was not from her waifish weight. It was his bear, rising to the surface just beneath his skin. Every second of the short elevator ride grew more precarious. His beast prowled within him, dying to let loose. His eyes shifted up to the inevitable cameras mounted a corner of the elevator’s ceiling. When he glanced down, his fingers were molded around her waist, knuckles white.

“Fuck,” he breathed out.

“Get a grip, Griz.”

She’d barely said a word to him, so why in the hell did he feel the need to protect her? That instinct had become so fierce in the confined space that the hairs on the back of his neck were raised with pent-up shifter energy. Silas shook his head. He plucked the dart from her upper thigh. A quick examination gave him nothing concrete to go off of. It was a typical tranquilizer dart. Pocketing it, he closed his eyes and pushed down his urge to release his bear. Whatever was coming for her was now coming for him too.

The elevator car groaned to a stop and shuddered as he weighed his options. They were now at the fourth floor where his bike was parked, but he needed to get this woman some help from the front desk clerk who was now practically his best bud. He pressed the main floor button and waited.

It was show time.

Hopefully the damn doorman was still around, because he had no doubt things were about to get ugly. If the man was around, Silas planned to make him earn his keep by hiding the pretty little unconscious lady somewhere until the cops showed up. His fingers did a quick check of his handgun tucked into the back of his jeans under his cut. It appeared that tonight was not meant to be simple, that was for damn sure. He brushed back a lock of hair covering her face and gently propped her up against the back wall of the elevator car. There was no one to watch his six, but at least if he stayed in a confined area he could keep her safe.

Jesus, he needed to keep her safe.

Why that was the case, he had no idea.

The beginnings of swirling heat ate at his flesh. His vision twisted into a kaleidoscope as the elevator doors peeled back. Every one of his molecules felt like they were going to get sliced and diced in a hurry.

“Now is not a fucking good time,” he muttered low at his inner beast.

Four men in suits began to stride up to the car, and the one in the lead cracked his neck.

Fuck. That damn bellhop plan got thrown right out the fucking window.

“You have something we want,” the man shouted from across the expansive lobby. “If you give it back right away, we can end this here and now.”

Silas wasn’t up for causing a scene tonight, not with the club already in the public line of fire after their last big brawl. He could take these guys on with no problem, but the way his bear was reacting to these men, the idea of getting into a fight with them here kept registering a big old can of fuck no. It was time to swallow his pride and bug out fast. His finger punched the ‘close door’ button, and as they were still too far away to make it to the elevator, he gave the foursome a nice little finger wave and then a middle finger salute. The doors finally jolted closed and Silas hit every button he could before the high-class elevator jumped to the fourth floor of the building. He was thankful for the bridge connecting the fancy condo to the parking garage next door, right where he’d parked his bike.

While the goons would be climbing the stairs trying to figure out which floor he hopped off, he’d be back on his bike with this mysterious, sexy, passed-out stranger in his arms.

That was one way to spend a Saturday evening.

S
abrina jerked back into awareness
. The hangover from hell was banging at her temples, and a ridiculous amount of wind was gusting across the sides of her face and back of her neck. Except she was warm, and vibrations were coming from under her backside. And what was that rugged, musky, masculine scent over her nose? Confused, she fluttered her eyes open. Her face was nestled in a neck she didn’t recognize until she looked a little lower and saw the black muscle shirt. A little lower still and she realized she was seated facing said guy, with her legs wrapped around his waist, her torso practically molded to his body, and his chiseled arms on either side of her. On his bike. Which was speeding up what looked like the I-15 interstate.

Oh shit.

No.

I did not just get kidnapped by the guy on the elevator.

Holy crap.

She wished she could pay heed to that documentary on murderers. All she could do next was tilt her head up to check his face and see if she was right about who she was with, only to end up staring into the blue-eyed abyss of the badass she’d been trying to avoid on the elevator. A scream nearly left her hoarse, but sexy pants danger dude didn’t even stop the bike. He merely tilted his head down, raised one eyebrow and gave her a smirk.

“Glad to see you’re awake,” he boomed out over the deafening sounds of the bike’s engine plus the wind on the open road. His voice rose in gruff timbers that trickled goosebumps up and down her flesh. “You’ve been out for a while. I kinda liked the company, to be honest. Well, my dick sure enjoyed it.”

“Pull. Over. Right. Now!” she all but screamed into his face, because their lips were a few inches apart, given that she was straddling his lap. At least he’d taken the time to buckle a helmet on her head. “You can’t just kidnap me!”

“I think you’ve got me confused with the other guys. The ones I took you away from tonight. The ones who shot that nasty tranquilizer dart in your tight little ass. Remember them? They were trying to kidnap you.”

“And why am I on your bike?”

“I saved you.”

He turned abruptly as she groped for his shoulders and gripped his waist with her thighs with all the strength she could muster. How in the hell did he manage to keep her on his bike like this while she was unconscious? And did he just make that deep turn on the last corner on purpose?

Heat flared beneath her cheeks. She gritted her teeth, prepared to give him another piece of her mind. “Look, whatever you want, you’re not going to get it from me. Just drop me off at a pay phone and I can make it from there if you’re worried about saving gas. You can’t take me against my will like some…some prized pet.”

Their eyes locked as his infuriating grin only grew wider, framed by the beginnings of dark stubble.

“You’re not exactly in a position to be making demands, honey. Now stop talking and let me drive.”

The bike sped up, and Sabrina squealed, resisting her instinct to bury her head into his neck again. This thug had no idea who he was dealing with. If it was money he was expecting, or extra leverage by using her for some kind of arms deal transaction, he would be sorely disappointed. She’d make her getaway and that would be the end of it. She had been backed into a corner before, and with worse captors than this biker’s Brotherhood.

They slowed down, and the stranger coasted his motorcycle somewhere she didn’t have the ability to see until he braked and put the bike in park. When the vibrations died down, she could still sense them thrumming against her skin. Or perhaps that was the attraction that engulfed her when his rough fingers traced beneath her chin. She swallowed hard, just as he undid her helmet and eased it off.

“The way I see it, you were nearly hijacked by a squad of goons who know where you live. Going home isn’t your best bet.”

“Yet going wherever you’re taking me is a better alternative, right?”

“Exactly…though you’re starting to make me question my decision to be heroic and save you back there.”

She rolled her eyes, but all she got for her trouble was his devilish laughter in her ear.

“I don’t even know you!”

“Listen, you feisty little minx. You’re coming with me until I figure out how to get you to someone you know who can keep you safe.”

“I can take care of myself. I don’t need your help.”

“There’s strength in numbers, Sabrina. I’ve got numbers.”

“If you didn’t intentionally kidnap me, how do you know my name?”

“I picked up your purse. It’s behind us in the seat compartment.”

Shit.

He may not have kidnapped me, but he must know who I am now.

There goes the element of surprise.

Or maybe not.

When this is over I need to hug Daddy for getting me this fake driver’s license.

“Fine.” She looked around, then she remembered where she was still sitting and jerked back into the bike handles to put some distance between them.

“Welcome to your new home for the next couple of days.”

Mr. Sexy Pants plucked her off the bike, and when she turned, she got her first good look at the place. “Where are we?”

“My clubhouse.”

The place was large and old, a two-story log cabin styled building. It was packed with people standing around outside. Loud country music blared through speakers and noise seemed to be coming from everywhere. Every hand was holding either a cigarette, a beer bottle or some woman’s ass. Women in hooker couture walked around like queens while men played cards, darts, guns or worked on their motorcycles. Every guy had a weapon bulging from somewhere on his body, and some had rifles hanging across their backs. It was as if she was on the set of every seedy motorcycle club movie brought to life. That wasn’t even accounting for what or who was inside the huge, rustic, cabin-looking building that stretched out into the desert.

No, this was not going to be like staying at the Four Seasons.

“This place is…big,” she managed, straightening her knee-length red dress. The exorbitant amount of money she’d paid for it flashed through her mind as she noticed the crinkles and creases marring the delicate silk after that bike ride. “Do I at least get to know your name? And can I have my purse too, please.”

Her eyes skirted over the large, well-lit lot, trying not to notice that a few interested parties had begun to stare at them. Instead, she glanced up at the sky. There sure were a lot of stars out tonight, and if she believed in a higher power she might have been inclined to wish on one. Lord knew this stranger probably didn’t think she’d figure out how to get away eventually.

He cleared his throat and brought her back to the present with a subtle tap on her shoulder. When she glanced over at him, he was leaning against a split rail fence with his arms crossed, head slightly cocked as if studying her too.

“It’s Silas.”

He took a step forward, offering a handshake. She blinked, staring at each thick, hard muscle from his forearm to his bicep and shoulders. She had to remind herself that he might have told her he was her savior, but could still be the devil in disguise. Everything inside her told her not to shake this man’s hand, but then she had to survive this, and sometimes survival required a bit of chameleon-styled acting to live another day. Giving herself a mental shake, she extended her hand for a supposedly friendly shake.

The second their fingers brushed, all the hairs on the back of her neck stood on end. A flush crept into her cheeks. She had to swallow to keep herself from drowning in his gaze again. Maybe the flash of desire had more to do with the neuron scramble from the dart’s wicked contents than the way he was staring at her as if he wanted to eat her whole.

“Sabrina.”

“I knew that already, but thanks for the reminder.”

His hot fingers continued to hold on, so she took a step closer. If he found her attractive or sexy or wanted to keep her in his bed for a night, it could be the easiest leverage to get the hell away from this place.

Fuck and run.

Yes, I can manage that.

Particularly with this hot biker.

She layered on the charm. “You don’t seem like someone who has to remember a woman’s name that often. I figured I’d help you out.”

“Feisty
and
smart. I like it.” He flashed her a toothy grin that made a shiver lick down her spine until her toes curled in her high heels. A shot of warmth pulsed up her forearm into her shoulder.

This is going to be the easiest escape ever.

I might even like it.

“Mmm,” she hummed without realizing she’d done that, then she gave him a frown.

Christ. I can’t believe I have to make an effort not to be so into him.

Should she be this polite with someone who may have drugged her less than two hours ago? He may have denied having anything to do with it, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t guilty as sin. The thought made her pull away. It could have been her imagination, but he seemed to cling to her fingers a few seconds too long. His brow furrowed, flexing his hand and returning it to his side. Whatever she felt, it was mutual. Something had happened on both sides of that handshake, and neither of them had anticipated it. At least she wasn’t the only one caught off-guard. She licked her lips and let the rest of the world filter back into her consciousness.

“Can I have my purse now, please?” An attempt at civility never hurt anyone.

“Sure.”

He took several steps toward the back of his bike, opened a compartment hidden beneath the seat, and she made out a black briefcase. Oh, so this was the briefcase-full-of-cash guy-with-moxie who was shouting out on the other side of her condo unit wall. He snatched up her black beaded clutch from beside it. The tiny thing looked oddly strange in his huge hand. She only had a second to register the sight of him with her things, because he wasted no time, opening the small purse to check the contents.

“You won’t be needing this.” He pocketed her cell phone, and the next thing she knew, her clutch was hurtling through the air toward her. Her fingers caught it just in time, gripping the beaded accessory to her chest.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing? Give me my phone back!”

He was halfway across the parking lot toward the clubhouse when he pivoted around to face her, his face half in shadows. “Yeah. That’s not going to happen, sweetheart.”

She should have kept it cool to maintain the act, but something about his attitude got a rise out of her. “Don’t you sweetheart me, you thug! You can’t take away my only form of communication and expect me to be okay with it. I’m not just going to roll over and play dead for you.”

“I have my reasons for taking this away.” He kept walking as if she hadn’t said a word to him.

“You said you didn’t kidnap me, but you’re starting to act like it.”

He didn’t even break stride as she struggled to walk across the gravel in her black stilettos to catch up with him. She’d only just worn these Christian Louboutin’s once before, and now they were ruined. Just like her dress.

Crap.

And what was this man’s deal, anyway? Did he expect to keep her here? What was his end game, and what would happen to her while she stayed at this place? A million scenarios crossed her mind, but it was hard to admit that a brief stint as his sex slave didn’t seem half bad.

“Look, as long as you’re here, we have to cut your contact with the outside world. Someone out there wanted you, and we don’t want them finding you here. These are my people. I keep them safe. That’s my job… and I guess it’s my new job to keep you in the clear too.”

“I told you I didn’t need protection.”

He ignored her comment and continued. “We make some…controversial choices around here, and I don’t want those options getting outside our little circle. We’re not big on people who aren’t in the inner circle.”

“I never asked to be here.”

“Yeah. Whatever. As I was saying, you don’t have the privilege of my trust yet, so if you get there, we can talk about your phone.”

Keeping it cool was not going to be easy with this man. “Well, I don’t trust you either. Who made you my guardian and protector? I never said I needed your help. Now kindly give me my phone, I’ll call a cab, and I’ll be out of your hair in a snap. That way, no one’s controversial choices are in jeopardy.” She slipped in front of him as he strode through the raucous crowd toward what she presumed was the front door to the clubhouse.

“It’s not that simple.” He snatched her hand again before she could protest, and tugged her into the dim, smoky foyer of his man cave.

“Seriously—” The door nearly shut on her ass, but the small yip sound she inadvertently made didn’t compare to the response of everyone else in the open concept bar-slash-dancefloor-slash-games-room. Whatever tirade she was about to deliver was cut off by her hesitation, coupled with outright hostility glaring out from more than a dozen strangers’ eyes when they turned to look at her and Silas. “I can agree with you there,” she muttered under her breath. “Simple… not a chance.”