Stoned (Unlikely Heroes Book 4) (3 page)

“Don’t fight, Karen.” Stoner’s voice rumbled near her right ear. “You’ll only make it harder on yourself.”

Her breathing quickened as claustrophobia tried to strangle her. She gasped in deep breaths.

“Please. I’m claustrophobic!”

Something tightened around her eyes, holding the hood firmly in place. A bandanna?

Stoner steered her forward. “Get on the bike. We’re going for a ride.”

As if sensing she would refuse, he hefted her over the seat. Karen landed on the back of the bike, letting out a startled grunt.

Several motors rumbled to life around them.

Stoner’s hard body settled in front of her on the motorcycle. Panic gripped her.
I can’t move my hands! I can’t hold on!

The engine roared to life, vibrating the seat beneath her.

“Wait!” she shouted. “
Please
, I’m freaking out. I can’t hold on with my hands bound…I can’t…breathe.” Her breaths grew more rapid. Dizziness swam in her head. Oh God, she was going to pass out!

She tipped sideways, sensed the ground rushing up to greet her.

“Fuck.”

Strong arms grabbed her and yanked her upright, keeping her from hitting the gravel road.

Motors rumbled as the other bikers shot away.

Stoner grabbed her wrists. He slashed at the bonds.

She was free.

She drew in several breaths, slowly exhaled. 

Another slow, deep breath and she was able to relax.

“Now hold on,” he snapped. “Next time I’ll just let you fall.”

Karen wrapped her arms around his waist, holding on tight. Heat and strength radiated from his body into hers. She pressed against his back, tightened her thighs against his, trying to absorb some of his strength. She would need it if she was going to survive these creeps.

The bike shot forward down the road, spitting gravel behind them.

And as they sped away, the cool evening wind whipping around them, it occurred to Karen that once again Stoner hadn’t hurt her when he very easily could have. He could have let her fall to the gravel and injure herself, but instead he’d held her upright, preventing her from being hurt.

Who
was
this guy?

If she was going to get away from these assholes, Stoner was probably her best chance. If she could manipulate him somehow,
seduce
him perhaps, then maybe—just maybe—she could escape.

So that was what she planned to do.

CHAPTER FIVE

Karen Williams complicated matters. Much more than Stoner wanted to admit. Thank God she didn’t know who he was or what he planned to do. He intended to keep her ignorant of his true intentions. She could ruin everything. All his plans could go to shit. He couldn’t allow that. He
wouldn’t
allow that. He would play his role perfectly. If all went well, neither she—nor anyone else—would be none the wiser.

Never in a million years had he expected to come across her in the forest. Hell, he hadn’t even known she was a botanist, hadn’t had any clue what she did for a living. He hadn’t wanted anyone to know he’d noticed her all those years ago. The first time he’d seen her, he recalled thinking:
Damn,
what I wouldn’t give to have a woman like that
. But women like Karen Williams didn’t notice men like him. She never saw him back then. She never knew Stoner had noticed her, wanted her, thought about her for years afterward... 

He’d never even expected to see her again, period.

But now—nearly eight years later—he’d been saddled with the one woman who could bring him to his knees.

She was just as beautiful now as she’d been back then—perhaps more so. Karen had aged remarkably well. At forty-six, she was still quite stunning. Her hair was styled in a pixie cut, a deep chestnut brown that was short in the back and sides, with long bangs that swung forward, covering her eyes whenever she tilted her head to the side. He fought the urge to reach over and stroke his fingers through her short hair, tuck those sexy bangs back behind her ear.

Karen was trim, but not skinny, with just enough curves and rounded areas to be deliciously feminine without being too fleshy. A sexy, beautiful woman. Some men might think she had a little too much flesh on her ass and thighs, but not Stoner. He liked a woman to have a little something to hold onto. She was perfectly rounded, perfectly female.

Her features were soft and feminine, well proportioned. Striking. She could seduce a man with those dark, sultry eyes. How many men had fallen for her charms? He tried not to think of all the things he wanted to do to her, things he shouldn’t think about if he wanted to keep his head on straight. One “come hither” glance from those seductive eyes and he’d be lost. She was a complication he didn’t need.

The ride to the compound lasted about ten minutes. Ten
long
minutes. Stoner spent that time thinking about the woman sitting behind him on the bike, her body pressing up against his, making him want, making him
burn
, making him wish for things he knew he could never have.

What the hell was he going to do with her? 

At last they reached their destination.

Stoner shut off the bike. He was reluctant to dismount, reluctant to move out of her arms. He liked the way she felt pressed up against him.

Shit.

He dismounted.

She waited on the back of the bike, her head tilted toward him, listening. The other bikers dismounted, talked and joked around them. But Stoner paid them no heed. 

He untied the bandanna from around her eyes. He yanked the hood off her head. Karen blinked up at him, her dark eyes wide and curious. She pushed her bangs out of her eyes and glanced around.

“Where are we?” Her soft voice trembled with fear.

“The Cobra Hangout.” He held a hand out to help her off the bike. Ignoring his hand, she dismounted on her own. He shrugged and turned away, not wanting to admit her rebuff hurt. Of course she didn’t want to touch him. He was a badass biker dude. He hung out with criminals. Drug lords. Rapists. Why would she want to be anywhere near him?  

The Cobra Hangout was deep in the forest. The bikers had all parked their motorcycles on the dirt parking lot inside a fence that encased the large compound. Guards patrolled the grounds on a regular basis, strolling along the fence line with beefy, aggressive Rottweilers.

In the center of the compound stood a huge, log cabin-like building made out of larch logs. It had once been a hotel/ski resort back in the seventies, but was now home to Viper and his followers. Other smaller buildings settled farther back into the trees around the larger building. Stoner was new to the group, having only been allowed to join a few weeks ago. Viper was still suspicious of him, so he had to tread carefully. This “little village” they had entered was Viper’s compound, where everyone who joined was required to stay so Viper could keep a close eye on them. Some people might consider Viper’s group a cult, but it was much more than that. Viper gave people a second chance. He didn’t care about anyone’s past. When a person joined the Cobras, his past was wiped clean. That person chose a new name, a new start, and gave up everything he knew. For most people, Viper’s outlaw group was a chance for a new beginning.

To Stoner, it was an opportunity for revenge. One he couldn’t pass up. He’d seized the chance when it had arrived and now, after many months, he was finally in.

Viper trusted very few people. Stoner intended to become one of Viper’s most “trusted.” He had big plans for Viper.    

Karen turned back to Stoner. She glanced down at her wrist GPS. Stoner had noticed the GPS earlier but he had not mentioned it to Viper. If Karen found a chance to escape using her GPS, all the more power to her.

But he couldn’t let her escape under his watch, or he’d be the one Viper punished.

“Let’s go.” Stoner snagged Karen’s arm. “No funny moves or I’ll have to tie you up again.”

She glared at him, her eyes sparkling with defiance. But she said sweetly, “I’ll be good,” and moved forward at his prompting. The woman was full of contrasts: fire and ice, strength and weakness, defiance and submissiveness. He couldn’t figure her out. But damn if he didn’t want to try.

Viper paused on the porch of the giant log building. He watched as Stoner ushered Karen forward. The other bikers had disappeared inside the building.

Stoner wasn’t sure what Viper’s plans were when it came to Karen, but it wouldn’t end well for her. She’d witnessed a murder. It was unlikely she’d leave this place alive.  

“Welcome to the Cobra Hangout,” Viper said to Karen, his freakish pink gaze steady on her. “You’re a guest here as long as you do what you’re told. You’ll answer to Stoner. Consider him your boss. Everything you do will be under his direction. You’ll eat with him, sleep with him, shower with him, piss with him, and grow pot with him. But don’t try to escape, Ms. Williams. Because you won’t get far. No one leaves this place without my approval.”

Karen stopped at the bottom of the porch. She stared up into Viper’s cold eyes. Stoner remained silent while she studied Viper. Her gaze traveled over the tattoo vining up the side and back of Viper’s neck and covering the top of his bald head. The tattoo was a highly detailed serpent, its mouth open and fangs spread wide, its tongue slithering out and over the top of Viper’s head and tickling down between his eyes, the forked tip of the tongue ending just above the bridge of his nose. A striking tattoo, it was a true piece of art, one that drew attention with its extreme details, the outline of the snake’s scales, the realistic looking reptilian eyes, the authentic forked tongue. The unusual placement of the tattoo up Viper’s neck, across his bald head and down his face made it that more attention-grabbing. A person didn’t notice Viper just for his rare albinism, but also because of his strange, striking tattoo. His entire appearance was freaky, even the piercings. 

Stoner imagined Viper’s tattoo was probably the strangest, creepiest tattoo Karen had ever seen. Viper was likely the strangest, most frightening man she’d ever met.

“You got some kind of obsession with snakes or something?” She motioned to Viper’s head. Hell, if she was afraid, she didn’t act like it. Karen Williams was a tiny, spunky little woman who confounded Stoner. Most women—most people—would be quaking in their shoes if they’d been taken prisoner by one of the most powerful outlaw motorcycle clubs in the country. But not Karen. She was wily. Courageous. And those traits might just keep her alive. “I mean, really, those creepy hoods, your ridiculous tattoo, even your motorcycle looks like a snake. You must be a man obsessed.”

Viper narrowed his eyes at her. “The serpent is a guardian of sacred places.” He motioned to the log building and the forest around him. “Like this. It also represents poison. A cobra’s venom is deadly.”

Karen’s brow shot up. Despite her situation, she obviously wasn’t scared of Viper, though she should be. Viper was not someone to fuck with.

She placed a hand on her hip. “So if I misbehave, you’ll what? Poison me?”

Viper smirked. “Maybe. The serpent is also a symbol of vengefulness.”

Karen snorted. “You mean like that man you killed? Was that vengeance?”

Viper’s pink gaze narrowed to tiny slits. Stoner tensed, waiting for Viper to lash out at her. To strike her and force her into submissiveness. The man did not tolerate disobedience.

Instead, his mouth curved into a fake smile. “Yes. For my baby sister, Tonya. You’ll meet her soon, but I’m thinking I’ll probably keep you away from her. You’re a bad influence.”

“
I’m
a bad influence?” Karen glared at him. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You’re of the lower races,” he stated, as if that explained everything. “Inferior.”

Her eyebrows rose in a mixture of outrage and disbelief. “Excuse me?”

Stoner cleared his throat. Viper was a former member of the Skinheads and carried strong beliefs about a “higher” race, white power, and all that white supremacy crap. Karen’s darker complexion made her an “inferior race” in Viper’s mind, and he would treat her as such. Stoner feared the woman was about to find out how Viper treated “inferior” races.

“How am I inferior to you?” she went on. “Do you have a college degree Mr. Viper? Have you done anything good in your life? What makes you better than me? Because your skin is whiter than mine? That’s a crock of shit and you know it!”

Viper’s eyes glittered with anger. He glanced at Stoner. “I don’t have time to deal with this shit, man. Make her behave. Make her show some respect! Now!”

Stoner hesitated. Karen’s gaze flew to his, defiance flaring in her eyes.

“I dare you to
make me behave
,” she hissed through her teeth, plopping her hands on her hips. “What are you guys, anyway,
cavemen
?”

Viper chuckled, a mean, nasty chuckle. His pink gaze remained on Stoner, waiting. “Well? She asked for it. Show her who’s boss. Show her
cavemen
.”

Stoner closed his eyes and sighed. When he opened his eyes again, Karen was staring at him, the defiance gone and fear taking its place. She took a hesitant step back. Shit. He didn’t want to do this. He didn’t want to hurt her. But he couldn’t refuse, not with Viper standing there, watching.

Her gaze locked on his, the challenge clear in her eyes. Then she dropped to her knees in front of him and bowed to the ground. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, her voice husky with a faint trace of the defiance she couldn’t quite relinquish. “I’ll do whatever you say. I promise.”

A mixture of relief and admiration swarmed through him. He forced back a laugh. She was smart enough to know when to give in, though she didn’t do it willingly. She was acting. For Viper’s benefit. As long as she “behaved” in front of Viper, Stoner wouldn’t have to hurt her. How would she “behave” when they were alone? He was curious to find out.

Viper cackled. “You’ve got your hands full with this one, Stoner, but at least she knows when to give up. If you can’t handle her, let me know, and I’ll take care of her.”

Stoner would have to do everything in his power to make sure Viper didn’t “take care of” her. Because if Viper got his hands on her, she would never be the same.

Viper glanced at Karen again. He reached down and snagged her wrist, removed the GPS. “I’ll take that.”

Karen sputtered in outrage, but she was smart enough not to try to take back the GPS. She glared at Viper as he smirked down at her and slipped the GPS into the left front pocket of his leather jacket.

Viper swung his chilling pink gaze back to Stoner. “Have her make a list of things you’ll need for the lab and get it to me by morning.”

Viper turned and entered the building, leaving Karen and Stoner alone outside. 

Karen glared after Viper, her gaze on the inked serpent slithering up the back of his head. She turned back to Stoner.

“You’re a chauvinistic piece of shit, you know that?”

Stoner fought back a chuckle. The woman certainly spoke her mind.

He motioned for her to go up the steps and into the building.

“After you.”

Karen didn’t move. She knelt on the ground and glared up at him. “You know I’m going to escape at the earliest opportunity.” Her gaze brewed with defiance.

She hadn’t said “
try to
escape” but “
going
to
escape.” He’d suspected as much. That was what worried him. He was coming to expect the unexpected from Karen Williams. She was a woman like no other.

But her “escape” wasn’t going to happen right now. He grabbed her arm and hauled her to her feet, pulling her up the steps after him.