Ruthless (Dark MC Romance) (6 page)

Inside was a grimy dive bar with badly chipped glass mugs and floors that looked like they had years of stains. I walked behind the bar and grabbed two glasses, pouring whiskey for us both.

“That should get their attention.” Spike shook out a cigarette from his pack and promptly lit it. He took the glass I offered him. “Are you trying to start a war?”

I smiled behind my glass. “This whole city could be ours. We have the manpower and the resources. We should strike now while they’re weak.”
But Crash doesn’t want that.
I frowned.

“Well, I’m for anything that gets me out of housework.” He winked at me as he took a drag from his cigarette.

I pried open the cash register, but there was nothing but petty change. However, underneath was a 12-gauge shotgun, which I grabbed and tossed to Spike. He caught it deftly.

“Bit of a thief aren’t you?” he grinned, the cigarette rolling between his teeth.

“I’ve never really understood ownership.”

He nodded towards the box of vials. “What do you suppose this shit is? A stimulant?”

“Maybe you should try it—see what it’s like.”

“Nah, I don’t do drugs.”

I do.
Not too much, because I couldn’t stand being addicted to anything.

Losing control was not something I ever wanted to happen to myself, but I savored the heightened emotions they gave me. I fingered a vial in one hand and debated whether I should test the drug on the girl I locked up in the basement.

“Let’s take this shit to Crash. If it’s really worth that much money, Dragons should stake their place in this business.”

“Aye, aye, captain.” He threw back his head and downed the glass of whiskey.

My limbs buzzing from the alcohol, I grabbed the bottle of whiskey and headed back outside, where there was a cluster of half-horrified, half-elated people surrounding the dead gangster. When they saw me duck under the broken window with the shotgun resting on my shoulder, they scattered like roaches.

* * *

Crash fingered the vials of Red as Spike leaned against the counter and eyed the club whore bending over the pool table. Technically, he was supposed to be outside.

The President looked unimpressed. “I’ve heard of this. It fetches for a pretty good price.”

“Then why aren’t we distributing? If we let the Tigers control this market—”

“I don’t care!” He ground his cigar into the ashtray and my nose stung at the smell.

He slid off the stool and stood very close to me, close enough so that I could count the scars on his lined face. I had to bury my smile. Didn’t he know that intimidation didn’t work on me? The nuns at Christ’s Cross tried beating me into submission. All it succeeded in doing was make me better at hiding my crimes. I knew that Crash could slice and dice me if he wanted, and that was why I respected him.

“I don’t want the club dealing in drugs. It gets us too much time in prison.”

Crash’s brown eyes met mine and I wondered if there was weakness in them that I couldn’t see. “I disagree. We need to control the market or our grip over Victoria will weaken.”

Another look crossed over his face, reminding me of the times adults would visit my orphanage and peer at me. It was like he pitied me. “Cain, you can’t control everything. You’ll learn that when you become President. I’m sending the club in a better direction, one that keeps us all safe.”

I didn’t really give a shit about safe.
That’s not why I joined the club, and I’m pretty sure that’s not why Spike joined it either.

“This should be a club decision. We need to vote on it.”

Crash’s lip curled and I didn’t bat an eyelash. I wasn’t going to back down on this.

“Get Tank. He’s outside.” He brushed past me, his shoulder knocking into mine.

Another body sidled up next to me and nudged my ribs. “You’re on his shit list now, buddy.”

Spike
. “Clean my fucking boots, prospect.” I gave him a smile to let him know that I was joking.

Tank was outside with some of the others working in the garage. I knew that he was hurting for money because his old lady passed away, leaving him with two kids to feed. He wouldn’t be hard to convince.

“Tank, come in. We need to vote on something.”

The old man with long, shaggy hair dusted off his hands and followed me back inside. The members trailed inside the office room, which held a long, wooden table surrounded by chairs. Crash sat at the head of the table, twisting the gavel in his fingers. I sat down on his left. The leather-padded doors slammed shut.

“We’re here today to vote on whether we should start dipping our hands in Red distribution. It’s a new drug—highly addictive and profitable. It also carries an eight-year prison sentence for possession. All of you know that I’ve been trying to sway the club in a more legitimate direction away from drugs and guns. It keeps us safe and it keeps us out of jail.”

Crash glowered at me as I leaned forward. “Spike and I found a couple Tigers with a box of this shit. I think it’ll benefit the club if we seize control of distribution now. If we don’t, we’re allowing the Tigers more room to expand.”

“Let’s vote. Nay.”

“Yea,” I said.

Tank rubbed his forehead. “Yea.”

“No.”

The last vote settled on Max, the treasurer. “Yes.”

Crash slammed his gavel on the table and stood up abruptly. He gave me a dark look as he swept from the table and I followed him outside.

“Come on, Crash. It won’t be as bad as you think it will be.”

I grabbed his arm and he whirled around, his face beet red. “You don’t know what the hell you’re talking about, Vincent.”

I let him go as fire raged inside my chest. “It’s Cain.” Why would he use the name the sisters of Christ’s Cross gave me?

There was something in his eyes that I recognized in my victims but seldom felt myself: fear.
He’s a beast who lost his fangs.

JULIA

The moment that dead-eyed, pale bastard left me in the dark I laughed to myself.
This is supposed to be torture?

Boredom rapidly settled in. I wasn’t tired so I couldn’t sleep. I couldn’t hear a goddamn thing; I couldn’t even hear the sound of my breathing. So I coughed. Nothing.
Hey!
I said it out loud—or I thought I did. The headphones blocked out everything.

I couldn’t see, feel, or hear anything. Just blackness suffocating me, making me question my own existence.

I had no idea how long I was in there, chained to the bed. In my head, I counted but gave up somewhere around nine hundred. I struggled in my restraints, desperate to scratch an itch on my belly that drove me insane, and then I was screaming so hard that I felt the vibrations, felt my raw throat. Nothing. There was no stimulation.

Fuck. I hate this.

My body felt like it was suspended in space, floating in the abyss. Maybe this was what death was like. Or Hell
.
There was nothing but the nonstop chatter in my head, which grew more and more panicked. I dwelled on my past. Bryan got shot over and over, his head jerking to the side as his skull vomited dark blood. I was back on the kitchen tiles, staring at a widening dark pool. Then I snapped out of it and I was still restrained on the mattress, still trapped in my fucking head in the sea of black.

When is he coming back?

The wish alarmed me slightly, but my mind seized on it.

I hope he comes soon. He’ll come soon. It’s been too long. Just a bit longer. Any minute now.

How long had it really been?

The thoughts repeated over and over and I was sick of myself. I jerked against the restraints because it was something to do, because I felt the slightest friction when the cuffs dug into the foam. I imagined him coming back in.

The lights flared on and Cain crept back inside. I couldn’t remember what he looked like so his face looked like Bryan’s, but crueler. He had pale hair. His unnaturally white teeth grinned as he showed me a six-inch blade, which he dug between my ribs. I choked as if it really happened—maybe it did. I could feel liquid pouring from my abdomen, but it was cold.

PLEASE LET ME OUT! PLEASE!

I moved my lips and screamed, hearing absolutely nothing. I was dead. I was in Hell. This was my punishment for all of the terrible things I did in my life. Bringing Bryan into my fucked up life was no doubt the worst thing I ever did. My nose was blocked and wetness streaked down my cheeks.

I deserve this.

Something exploded above me and I shut my eyes as pain stabbed them. Was this real? Was there light behind my eyelids? Rough fingers grasped my cheek and ripped off the blindfold.

Joy soared inside me as I felt his hands on my face. I opened my eyes cautiously and a blinding whiteness stabbed them. The headphones lifted from my head and I sobbed with relief. I could hear my shaking, sore voice and the air moving through the ventilation, and a man breathing next to me.

“I’m sorry, Julia,” he said in a gravelly voice, “but it was necessary.”

“What happened? Where am I?”

I remembered vaguely a man called “Cain” imprisoning me in this chamber, but it was hard to separate that image from the confusing blur of everything that happened. Or didn’t happen.

He made a deep sound in his throat as he reached for my wrists and released them. I sat up as he uncuffed my feet. “You’re unraveling a lot faster than I imagined.”

Strangely weak, I leaned forward but he caught my shoulders in his hands and I felt something stir in my body as he pulled me into his chest. My eyes opened and watered at the bright steel that surrounded me.

“It’s overwhelming to have it all back, isn’t it? Doesn’t it make you wish to have them back on?”

I
was
overwhelmed. His arm wrapped around my waist, his fingers teased the edge of my shirt and grazed over my skin. Every small feeling was magnified a thousand times, as if all of my senses were on overdrive. I stood up to get away from him, but almost immediately missed his warmth. I kept my vision towards the ground—it was a lot less painful. Then I saw a glimmer in the drain and I remembered.
My ring.

Whirling around, I saw the handsome, pale man sitting calmly on the mattress. His pale blonde hair was almost shoulder length. He was probably Swedish, but his accent was American.

Who cares what the fuck he is. He’s a monster.

I remembered everything he did to me and blood rushed to my face.

“
You.
”

“Me.”

I backed away and yanked on the doorknob, twisting it. I pounded on the door and screamed at the light upstairs. Maybe they would hear—maybe they would take pity on me.

“There’s no help for you out there.”

His horrible voice echoed around me, filling me with dread. “Why are you doing this to me?”

I turned around to look at the pale ghost standing in front of me. His black MC cut contrasted horribly with his skin, making him look even less human. A smile formed on his lips that had absolutely no warmth behind it. He reminded me of how I used to feel around Bryan.

“The sooner you accept that you’re mine, the more motivated I’ll be to save your life.”

He’s lying.

His gray eyes looked up and down my body with a lustful expression that I knew only too well. How many men had I reduced to putty in my hands after a few minutes of attention? Perhaps he wasn’t a monster.

He’s just a man and all men can be manipulated.

If I let him fuck me like I let Bryan, what was the difference?

“I’ll give you whatever you want. Just tell me.”

I could see the way my words affected him. His endless eyes remained blank but he kept approaching me as if he couldn’t help himself. “I want everything. Everything.” Like a moth to the flame, he stopped in front of me and seemed to inhale my scent. To him it was intoxicating.

I gazed into his terrifyingly still eyes and leaned forward, trembling. My hands lightly gripped his waist and my thumbs stroked the hard abdominal muscles. When he didn’t object, my lips fell against his and I waited for him to respond. I even teased my tongue across his bottom lip and caught a slight taste of whiskey. He smelled of cigarettes and alcohol, but his lips were sweet. I kissed him gently and then I applied a bit more pressure, my lips grabbing his. He pushed me away from him, his colorless face slightly pink.

I smirked at that and suddenly his palm whirled out of nowhere, striking me hard against my cheek. I fell to the side as Cain looked down at me, furious. That wiped the laughter from my face. My cheek blazed.

He slapped me. What the fuck?

“I don’t tolerate disrespect, Julia. You will bury that fucking ego of yours, or I will make you.”

My heart throbbed and I gazed up at him in horror. I couldn’t pin him and it made me nervous. He was completely different from any man I ever knew. Every man had a weakness, but he seemed impenetrable.

“You’re going to want and need me before long, but I will not be manipulated by you. The next time you try that, I’ll whip your sweet ass until it’s raw.”

Then he bent to the floor so that he was level with me, my equal. His hand shot out. I screamed, expecting another blow, but he grabbed the back of my head and twisted his fingers in my hair. Then he wrenched forward and suddenly his hot, sweet mouth was all over mine, kissing me the way I always wanted to be kissed—as though I were irresistible.

Somehow I felt myself leaning into him, enjoying the kiss. I hated myself for how my body responded to him. It was the ultimate betrayal. His rough hand slid under my blouse and enveloped my tits with his heat. My back arched as he gathered my flesh.
Fuck.
I was sickened with myself. How could I let him do this? Wasn’t he part of the club that wanted me dead?

Suddenly, he pulled away, leaving me hot and bothered. He reached into his jacket pocket and produced a small bag of white powder that made me recoil. Breathing hard, he laid a mirror on the floor and dumped some of the powder onto it.