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Devil's Prey(3)

By:S. E. Chardou


My issues should have affected how I viewed life but sadly, they didn't.  I still enjoyed sex, despite countless episodes of rape, dubious  consent, sodomy and forced bondage but I liked to think they'd given me  character. I was badass and no one in their right mind would mess with  me, not if they wanted to leave my presence with their dick intact.

A couple of old ladies and club whores looked my way with obvious  derision but fuck them. The only good thing that had come out of my  extensive years of childhood abuse was I didn't sashay my ass around  half-naked. I wasn't dressed to the nines but I had inherited my  mother's sleek fashion sense. I kept my sable hair its natural color and  on the longer side. Today, it fell down my shoulders and around my face  in long, wavy strands of silk. My hair also complimented a pair of  faded, fitted blue jeans and a fitted, scarlet cotton baby doll blouse  paired with matching wedge espadrille sandals.         

     



 

It was my day off so I certainly didn't see the need to wear my usual  all-black outfits and steel-toed shitkickers that had saved me on more  than one occasion.

My eyes glanced in the direction where I could feel someone looking at  me intensely. Serra sat on a black leather sofa, nursing a Southern  Comfort and Coke. She nodded her head in my direction and I did the same  to her before I continued down the dark hallway that led to Brad's  office. I knocked on the door and heard a male voice beckon me to come  in.

I opened the door and closed it behind me before I stood for a moment.  Brad was there but another guy I vaguely recognized also sat in the  room. He looked comfortable enough on the whiskey brown leather love  seat Brad had facing him across from his large desk.

It was easy to size up this mystery man without being too obvious about  my intent. I knew he was tall, easily almost a foot over my natural five  foot, four-inch height had I been without the wedge sandals that gave  me an extra three inches. Not only was he lean with muscles in all the  right places but he was extremely clean-cut. Although dressed casually  in blue jeans, a short-sleeved black t-shirt and matching steel-toed  shitkickers, it was obvious he could also blend into the world of the  moneyed and powerful.

I stood for a moment to glimpse his face before I committed it to memory  in the space of time it took me to blink my eyes. Rugged, handsome yet  an air of overt sexuality that couldn't adequately be described, at  least not by me, and my limited vocabulary.

Sharp Slavic features blended with genes from various Celtic ancestry, a  Roman nose, high forehead, sculpted cheekbones and chin, finished off  with luscious full pink lips. Creamy skin with a hint of peaches almost  gave him a girlish complexion if it weren't for the few days' worth of  dark hair growth on his face, which matched his hair. And those eyes, my  God, a woman-even me-could get lost in those artic depths of blue with a  hint of pale green.

I stared at my benefactor who motioned for me to sit before I took a  seat beside Mr. Cold & Deadly. There was no mistaking I recognized a  kindred spirit in this man. His might have been inviting in a physical  sense but the depth of calculating apathy existing within him couldn't  be underestimated.

Brad lit a cigarette, set his lighter down and dragged before his ice blue eyes met mine. "How was Seattle?"

I rolled my eyes with exaggerated sarcasm. "Cold and overcast. There  were a few nice days but overall, the weather sucked. What do you want  me to say?"

He stared at our guest for a beat too long; then his eyes turned toward  mine. "I'm not sure you two have met. Max, meet Mags. Mags, this is  Max."

I glimpsed in Max's direction though I didn't bother to offer either  hand resting casually on my thighs. "Do you have a last name, Max?"

"Cartier." His voice was deep, honey and molasses rolled into one. "You're Reynolds's kid, aren't you?"

I scoffed out loud as I crossed my arms against my chest. "Yeah, Riggs  was my father. What difference does it make? He's dead now."

"You look just like him . . . that's all. Seems like you've also picked up his charming personality too."

Brad cleared his throat. "The reason why I called you in today is … well, you're free to go."

I could almost feel my heart open up and swallow itself. "What do you mean I'm free to go?"

"You've paid back all the money your father stole with interest, babe."  He shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly. "You're not a member of this  club nor do you want to become one. Surely you didn't think I'd keep you  at my beck and call forever? I know I have treated you . . . harshly  over the years but I don't want you to think I am a complete and utter  monster. It's time for you to live your life, Mags."

Several strands of hair had fallen into my face but I didn't want to  brush them away with the way my hands were shaking at this sudden  revelation.

I was free to go.

But go where?

My adolescent and adult life had never been my own to control. I was  property of the White Knights MC and now they were letting me go? How  could this be?

Freedom was such a pleasant dream for me, something to carry me to the  land of dreams at night but it was never a reality I'd ever thought I  would see-not in my lifetime at least.

I nodded my head and forced myself to meet the Vegas charter president's  eyes. "All right. I mean, I have money and I can take care of myself  but . . . my employment has always come through the club-"

"That is where I come in," Max interrupted in a deep, calm voice.  "Decker was concerned about how you would take this whole ‘moving on'  issue so I am here to assure you that your services will always be  required. As a matter of fact, I have a job you would be perfect for if  you would be willing to consider my offer."         

     



 

I straightened my posture as I turned toward a man I barely knew. "If  I'm being given my freedom, what makes you think I want to be tied down  with someone else? I've always been a free agent. If the WKs are letting  me go then believe me, I plan to continue to be my own person," I  explained in a cool voice.

His blue-green eyes shined with a look of disbelief at my lack of  respect for him but he ground his teeth together, his jaw flexing before  he blinked and the look disappeared. "I don't want to own or control  you. I simply need your services for an upcoming job and if you're  willing to consider it then we might have a way for you to smoothly  transition into this . . . new chapter of your life."

"Okay, I'm listening."

Max leaned toward me, the subtle smell of expensive cologne teasing my  nostrils. "Well, the operation would be delicate and it's not something  Decker wants to be directly involved with nor does he want any knowledge  of it. I suggest you pack your belongings and we can be on our way. I  will tell you the job once we have left together."

I raised one of my perfectly shaped eyebrows. "What if you tell me about this new job and it turns out I'm not interested?"

"In that case, I can drop you where ever you want to go. I have to make a  pit stop in Northern Nevada. If that is where you would like me to  leave you after I have made my proposition, I will."

My hands flexed before they grabbed my knees involuntarily. It sounded  like a fair enough deal. My options were obviously limited and although  there was nothing more than I've ever wanted or desired in my life, I  knew this feeling all too well. I hadn't felt it since I was a  thirteen-year-old girl when my parents had died before my eyes.

It was fear of the unknown.

Brad never had to worry about whether I would return from a job because  the club was all I knew. Where would I go? The thought of disappearing  and starting a new life never occurred to me because it had been raped  and beaten out of me as a teen. I didn't know anything else but the club  and although the chances they would ever come looking for me were slim,  it still never registered with me that I had a choice at all.

My father had stolen money. He was the reason I never grew up with him  or my mother. I no longer resented him but I was loyal to a fault and  understood his misdeeds had to be paid back by me. It wasn't a question  of stupidity or blind faith-it was the only way to restore my family  honor and the Reynolds name. I would not be a coward and slink off into  the darkness without knowing my parents hadn't died in vain.

Now I'd held up my end of the bargain, their lives seemed meaningless,  worthless. I'd lost so many years for what? To prove I was a badass who  could survive by taking orders? I no longer had any and my world fell to  pieces. I barely held on to my pride, let alone my sanity. How could  this be happening to me?

I breathed deeply. "Fine, I'll go with you. Give me around twenty  minutes. I don't own much and it won't take me long to gather my  belongings."

Max nodded in a curt manner.

I stood and walked out of Brad's office, unsure if there was anything  else left unsaid between us. From the way my former  mentor/rapist/protector glanced at me in a forlorn manner, I guessed  that would have been everything and nothing but we didn't live in a  world of regrets. Our feelings would have to stay exactly as they  were-there was no room for second-guessing in this life or the next.