Chapter 10
Cain
“This fucking bike is cursed or something,” I sigh, tightening the bolt again even though it’s already where it should be.
Dom shifts his hand on the frame beside me, keeping it steady while I work, his movements effortless, like he’s done this enough times not to think about it.
“It’s not cursed,” he says, glancing down at it. “You just keep going back to the same part like it’s going to fix itself.”
I ignore that, reaching for another tool and adjusting my position to get a better angle.
“It was fine yesterday,” I reply, focusing on the alignment. “Now it’s fucking dead.”
He lets out a quiet laugh, shaking his head.
“That’s what happens when you buy a Honda,” he scoffs, like that somehow proves his point. “My Kawasaki doesn’t have these problems.”
“Yeah, I know,” I add, not even looking at him. “I bought it in a rush, not like I’m a fan or anything.”
I adjust the alignment one more time before tightening it properly.
“I’ll get my Ducati back soon anyway.”
Dom’s expression shifts instantly, a grin pulling at his lips as he straightens up a little, clearly more interested now.
“Fuck yeah, brother. That bike is a monster,” he says, a bit too satisfied, like he’s already picturing it.
I let out a quiet breath, setting the wrench aside.
“Speaking of monsters,” I add, glancing at him, “what the hell happened yesterday with Sierra?”
“Barely anything, considering what I had in mind,” he admits quietly, something tight lingering beneath the words. “I kept myself in check as much as I could… like you asked.”
“You know we have to take it slow,” I reply, my tone steady. “If we rush it, we won’t get the kind of satisfaction we’re after.”
He nods, running a hand through his hair, like he’s already forcing himself back into control.
“Yeah, I know,” he says. “That’s why we stick to the plan, just like we said.”
I nod in agreement, wiping my hands on the rag before stepping back to give him space.
“Go on, try it now.”
Dom swings his leg over the bike and hits the starter, the engine sputtering before dying again. He barely has time to get off before I step in and kick the bike hard, sending it crashing onto its side.
“You fucking piece of shit!” I snap, already over it.
Dom just laughs, lifting his hands in mock surrender.
“Whoa, whoa, brother, take it easy.” I glare at him, dragging a frustrated breath through my teeth.
“Fuck this shit, bro. Let’s go get the Ducati,” I deadpan. “I’m done with Honda.”
Sierra
Oh my God… I slept way too much.
I keep my eyes closed a little longer, one hand pressed against my forehead as I take a slow breath, immediately regretting every glass I had last night.
Drinking that much was a mistake.
What’s wrong with me?!
My head is pounding in that dull, persistent way that makes everything feel off, and even shifting in bed feels like more effort than I’m willing to give right now.
I reach for my phone on the nightstand, ready to call Tess and have her bring me something for this shitty headache, because there’s no way I’m dealing with it on my own. I still don’t get why she left so early, but honestly, who the fuck cares.
My thumb hovers over her contact for barely a second before a new notification catches my attention instead. A message from an unknown number, sent ten minutes ago.
What the hell?
I open it.
“Good morning, cumslut.”
I fix my eyes on the screen, making sure I actually read that right. I did.
“What the fuck…” I mutter under my breath, my brows pulling together as irritation settles in fast.
Someone really has the nerve to text me like that. From an unknown number?!
I push myself up, the headache still there but suddenly less important, my attention fully on the message.
Who even…
I don’t overthink it. I type back quickly.
“Who is this?”
I hit send and drop the phone back onto the bed, already annoyed, but not enough to ignore it. Not when someone clearly thinks they can talk to me like that.
“Someone who hasn’t forgotten what it felt like to have your cunt wrapped around his cock.”
I focus on the screen, my hold on the phone growing firmer as my blood begins to boil. I don’t know who the hell this is, and I’m definitely not in the mood for this shit.
I type back quickly.
“You’ve got five seconds to tell me who this is before I block you.”
I toss the phone onto the bed and head straight for the bathroom, determined to take a shower. Maybe that’ll help with the headache… and get rid of the irritation caused by whoever the hell is sending me those stupid messages.
I step under the water, letting it run over me while I try to ignore the pressure building behind my eyes, hoping the heat will at least make it bearable. It helps a little. I reach for the shower gel, working it over my skin without thinking too much about it, just going through the motions.
Ping!
I hear it, but I ignore it. Whoever it is can wait. I keep going, rinsing off, trying to stay focused on something normal for once.
Ping!
I exhale through my nose, already annoyed.
And then another one.
Ping!
And another.
Ping!
I stop, shutting my eyes as the irritation finally catches up with me.
Seriously?!
I finish quickly, not even bothering to enjoy it anymore, then grab a towel and wrap it around myself before stepping out.
By the time I walk back into my room, leaving faint drops of water behind me, I’m already fucking pissed off again.
I pick up my phone from the bed, careful not to get it wet with my damp hands, and unlock the screen, noticing there are four messages from the unknown number.
“Here we go again,” I whisper, frustration already in my voice, but it disappears just as quickly, because in the span of a second my knees go weak, the blood in my veins turning cold as a wave of dizziness hits me out of nowhere.
The first message is a photo—me, from the party, bent over the vanity, cum dripping from my pussy onto my bare legs… and my stomach drops as I realize I was right. The asshole did take a picture of me before disappearing.
I keep scrolling, my eyes moving over the next three messages, a cold wave of unease settling deep in my chest.
“You are so photogenic.”
“Such a pretty kitten you’ve got there.”
“Here kitty kitty kitty!”
I go still, my eyes locked on the screen as that last message sinks in.
Something cold settles in my chest, sharp and immediate, making my stomach twist, because this isn’t just some idiot texting anymore.
Do I have a fucking stalker now?!
I glance around the room without thinking, like I expect to find something, someone, or anything that explains it. There’s nobody.
Thank God!
I take a deep breath and text back.
“Go fuck yourself, you freak.”
The reply comes instantly.
“Ntz ntz ntz… aren’t you being a little rude?”
“I’m going to the police if you don’t leave me alone!”
I reply, already beyond frustrated.
“Want me to call them for you? I can send them straight to you. But the moment they show up, I’ll make sure that picture ends up on every smartphone in the city.”
Fuck. If that picture gets to the wrong people, my dad will disown me… he’ll lose clients… I’ll ruin everything for him.
My chest feels bound up, my breathing stuttering as I search for any way out of this.
There isn’t one.
Why the hell did I think fucking a stranger was a good idea?
“Fuck, Sierra… why are you so stupid?” I say out loud, my voice barely steady as tears start to gather in my eyes.
“How much?”
I type quickly, hoping that whoever this is, will take the money and disappear.
The reply comes almost instantly.
“Money? That’s what you think this is? No, kitten… what I want from you isn’t something you can buy your way out of.”
My jaw tightens as I read it, a sharp, uneasy feeling settling in deep enough to make it hard to ignore, and I don’t even think before I start typing.
“What the hell do you want from me?!”
The answer shows up almost immediately, like he never stopped watching the screen.
“Tonight, you’ll stop acting like your daddy’s spoiled little girl… and become exactly what you’re meant to be. Mine.”
I look at the message, reading it again, slower this time. I should call someone… Tess, maybe Cain, even the police. But he said he’d send the picture to everyone.
My throat tenses at the thought, the options running through my head and dying just as fast.
I can’t do anything.
I’m so screwed.