Before we reach the door, a large biker steps in front of us. I stop dead and stare up at him, my mouth dropping open. He’s huge. Like, mega. He’s at least six-foot two, with shoulders bigger and thicker than any shoulders I’ve ever seen on a man. He’s got the lightest blue eyes and thick, dark hair that is long and sitting just below his shoulders. I don’t even dare try to count the tattoos winding up his arms.
“You better be sure this girl ain’t gonna get us into trouble, Krypt. We don’t need any more shit,” he barks.
Krypt steps forward just as the other biker swings on his jacket, pulling it firmly over his massive shoulders. I see numerous patches on the leather, including one that states he’s the “President”. So he basically runs the club? I have read enough about bikers to figure that much out.
“She ain’t gonna cause any more trouble,” Krypt grates.
“She better fuckin’ not, or I’ll put her on her fuckin’ ass.”
With wide eyes, I gape at him. He flashes me a feral grin. “Yeah, babe, that’s what I fuckin’ said.”
He steps past us, walking off to join the rest of the bikers. Krypt drags me inside, pulling me through the doors until we stop in the living room of the cabin. It’s actually a nice space, surprisingly. There are polished wooden floors and a big wooden kitchen. The furniture is very masculine, all black and biker-ish.
“Why did you take me?” I ask as Krypt drags me down a hall.
“Because you’re fuckin’ evidence, and there ain’t no way in fuck we’re lettin’ you go back and tell them what happened. There is big shit goin’ down and you ain’t goin’ to ruin what we’ve put in place.”
“I think this is the most I’ve ever heard you speak. I was starting to think you had a condition.”
He snorts. “Code out here, woman. Don’t speak when you’re locked away.”
“You killed people. It’s your own fault you were locked away.”
He stiffens and spins around, clutching my shoulders and shaking me just slightly. “You want to fuckin’ survive?”
I open my mouth, but he cuts me off. “Well?” he barks.
“Yes!” I snap.
“Then shut your mouth, do as you’re told, and don’t fuckin’ mention me or my club again.”
“Your club?”
He growls at me.
“What are you going to do with me?” I ask as he turns and starts dragging me down the hall again.
“I have no fuckin’ idea right now, but until I find out you’re my prisoner.”
Prisoner?
I want to gag.
“I’m hurt.”
“Can see that. I’m not fuckin’ blind.”
“There’s no need to speak to me like that,” I bite out.
He spins to me again. “Don’t feel fuckin’ nice, does it?”
I recoil and flinch. “I’ve never spoken to you like that.”
He chuckles, but his smile is cold and deadly. “Yeah, you were the only one.”
I say nothing as he continues to lead me to wherever it is we’re going. We stop at a room, and he shoves me inside. It’s a big room with a double bed, a ragged couch and what seems to be a bathroom off to the side. He pulls me across the faded green rug on the floor, and forces me to sit on the bed.
“First thing,” he says, reaching under the bed and pulling out a first-aid kit. “You even try to run, we’ll kill you.”
“You’d kill an innocent woman?”
He looks at me, his eyes burning into mine. “If she threatened our club and everything we’ve worked for, yeah.”
A cold chill runs through me.
“You keep your mouth shut,” he continues. “And we’ll have no problems. This is a club life, and trust me, babe, it’s not what your spoiled ass is used to.”
“I’m not spoiled,” I say, tugging on my cuffs.
He snorts. “Not spoiled my ass. Look at you. You’re up yourself so fuckin’ far you can’t see your own head.”
“That’s not true,” I protest.
“Ain’t it, babe?” he snorts.
“I could put you on your ass in a matter of seconds, buddy,” I spit at him.
“Is that a challenge?”
“I’ll make it one when my ribs aren’t broken.”
He smirks. “You’re on.”
I refuse to answer him. He pulls out a cleansing wipe and reaches towards my face, but I flinch away.
“Don’t touch me,” I growl.
He glares at me, his grey eyes narrowing. “You got two fuckin’ choices here; think carefully. You either let me help you, or you sit here in your own dried blood.”