Chapter 4 #2
Boulder and Creep have him restrained. I pinch his nose hard until his mouth gasps open for air.
I shove my hand into his mouth, grab a firm hold of his tongue, pulling it out until it’s stretched to the max, and flash the steel knife as far back as I can.
The Uber-sharp blade slices through it like butter.
A damn sight easier than I’d expected, but with the removal of the organ, comes a shit ton of blood.
It’s at that point I toy between holding his head back and watching him choke to death, or throwing him to the floor and letting him bleed to death slowly.
The latter will give him a shimmer of hope, because if his buddies care about him and work fast enough, he still has a chance if they get him to the hospital in time.
Would need a talented surgeon and a blood transfusion, but it’s doable.
I decide to leave his fate in the hands of his buddies because, quite frankly, I don’t give a fuck either way.
We walk out of the disused warehouse without further challenge.
My black t-shirt and jeans are covered in blood.
Boulder and Creep not so much, but still haven’t avoided the splash of blood and saliva, being so close when Runt had coughed and sputtered.
Thankfully, our dark clothing disguises the red.
We’re able to mount up and ride out, making our way back to the club, leaving Josiah to heed our warning, lick his wounds and, if he so chooses to do so, save his foul-mouthed runt.
By the time we pull through the gates at the back of the clubhouse, it’s getting late.
I’m filthy, sweaty and in desperate need of a shower.
I also need to check on Gio. She’s been held up in my apartment for much longer than expected, but knowing that she has been safe has made it easier for me to blank out any fear and concentrate on the task in hand.
“Boulder, get the prospects cleaning up the bikes, make sure there’s no transferred evidence, just in case the cops come knocking.”
“Sure thing,” he replies, pushing through the back door of the club. “I’ll get right on it.”
Hammer and Creep follow him, with me and Grinder close behind.
“Surely they won’t go to the cops?” Grinder pipes up.
“No, but if they get him to a hospital, there’s going to be questions asked and the cops might be pulled in.” I’m hoping not, because although we have pull with the local law, we have little to none further afield.
“What about clothing? We need to fire up the furnace?”
“Shit, might be wise. Damn it. I like these fucking jeans too, but better to be safe than sorry. Tell the others; we might as well burn the lot. Check that the prospects do a full detail on all the bikes including the wheel treads, every fucking inch.”
“Grinder,” Hammer steps up in front of us, blocking the doorway into the communal area and the only way I can gain access to the stairs that lead up to my apartment. “Can I have a word with you out back? I… I… was wondering if you could take a look at some-ert.”
“What now?” he grumbles.
Hammer’s eyes flick to mine, then back at Grinder. Instantly I know something’s up and he needs to get his VP out of here.
Giorgia!
“Go,” I tell him. “We’ll catch up later.” Despite wanting to push forward, fear crawling over my skin, I wait until the back door swings closed behind Grinder before I go see what the fuck is going on.
When I see Gio playing center stage, dressed in a strappy little sundress that barely covers her panties, arms stretched high in the air, shaking her ass and putting on a show for all to see, my blood begins to boil.
I want to take a red-hot poker to every brother’s eyes for glaring at her like she’s fair game.
But I can’t let my temper get the better of me, or give anyone of these fuckers the wrong impression when it comes to my feelings for her.
Who am I trying to kid? If I didn’t want her for myself, I wouldn’t be reacting like this.
But she’s Grinder’s sister and off fucking limits.
Giorgia
With my hands stretched high above my head, my hips sway to the beat of Living on a Prayer by Bon Jovi, I’ve managed to find it hiding in the depths of the old jukebox that’s behind the bar.
I’m surprised that, despite its age, it’s in perfect working order.
It was the only tune that I thought was dance-worthy among the heavy rock tunes that monopolized the machine.
I’d done as Royal had asked and stayed in the apartment, watched a little TV, had a snack, but after three hours I’d begun to crawl up the walls with boredom.
It hadn’t been far into hour four that the noise from downstairs had filtered up.
With music blaring out, punctuated with high-pitched laughter, it was blatantly clear that there was a lot more fun going on downstairs, than up.
So, I’d thought, ‘fuck-it’ and had edged my way down into the communal area to see what was going on.
It had been obvious that Cherry and Poppy, the club twins, were aware my being there was against Royal and Grinder’s wishes, but still dragged me straight to the bar and lined up shots of tequila.
No doubt they were still a little pissed that I was trespassing on what they considered their turf, and I was damn sure they weren’t acting in my best interests, but hell, I wanted to let loose.
Ink, Forger and Chasm, who were supposed to holding down the fort while the others were off the premises, tried their best to break up the party, but as soon as Poppy flashed them her tits and a promise for something more later, they were easily persuaded.
So, it’s while I’m up on the pool table, swaying my ass, having had more tequila than is recommended to maintain a healthy liver, that I catch sight of Royal stomping towards me.
He comes and stands right at the side of the pool table.
With his head tilted back, he looks up at me; his expression and body language give nothing away.
Except for the slight tick at the side of his jaw from clenching his teeth.
But what really is telling is his eyes. They are darker than death itself and show exactly how furious he is with me.
Royal doesn’t say a word. I’m not sure he trusts himself not to lose his shit if he does.
With a scowl on his face, he simply holds out his hand towards me, flicks his fingers directing and warning me to get down. Without a second thought, I reach out my hand and take his.
Liquor dizzy, I move towards the edge, my intention to sit my ass down so I can jump off, but my bare foot catches one of the pool balls still scattered across the baize and I stumble. My balance lost; I fall forward straight into Royal’s arms.
However liquored up I am, it’s impossible to ignore the warmth and hardness of his upper arms that I grasp to steady myself.
He gently lowers me to the floor. With my feet back on the ground, I remove my hands but, still a little unsteady, I quickly place them against his chest which is just as magnificently hard and impressive as his biceps.
“Royal,” I exhale, my palm slowly caressing the fabric of his t-shirt, the only thing between me and his hot skin.
“What the fuck do you think you are doing?” Capturing my wrist, he snaps my hand away as if repulsed by my touch. “I told you to stay upstairs.”
“What did you expect?” I start my defence.
“You were gone ages, and I could hear music, and I was fed-up of being left on my ow…” My words become stuck in my throat when I catch a flash of red at the edge of my vision.
“Blood?” I swing my gaze fully to my hand that he holds and see the palm coated in a thin layer of crimson. “Oh, fuck, Royal. You’re bleeding.”
Royal
“I’m fine,” I fire back at her outburst but can’t deny that the concern she shows me gives me a warm feeling. “Now come on.”
Still gripping her wrist, I tug her away from my brothers, who are now standing watching us, and move us both towards the door at the bottom of the stairs that lead up to my apartment.
“I don’t want to go back upstairs,” she fights against my hold. With one quick sweep, I grab hold of her and flip her over my shoulder, firefighter style, and she lets out a high-pitched squeak. “Let me down, you… you…”
“Shut the fuck up, Gio,” I grind out. Her ass, now barely covered by the skirt of her dress, is so close to my face, I’m tempted to take a bite out of it when she wriggles.
When she tries to kick her legs loose, no doubt attempting to kick me in the junk, I tighten my hold on her.
The soft, smooth skin of her thighs feels like heaven against my fingertips, but in my head the temptation is pure hell.
Reaching the door, I punch the code into the security lock and, once disengaged, pull it open and step inside. I wait until I hear the lock click shut and then mount the steps.
“I was having fun, asshole,” she huffs out, wriggling once more to try to get out of my hold. Now, on the steps, her fighting me this way is so much riskier, one of us could get hurt.
“Cut it out, Gio, or I’ll lose my footing.” I bring back my hand and give her a quick slap on her ass. She stills, but what I don’t expect is to hear a soft moan from her lips that’s sure as fuck from pleasure, not pain.
Damn!
I make quick work of entering through the second door and into the apartment.
I wait until we’re right up by the couch before I let her to her feet. With a gentle nudge, her ass hits the seat while I continue to stand over her.
“I had to get you out of there before your brother caught sight of you. He’d have kicked off, and the next thing we’d have had is a riot on our hands.”
“I was only dancing.”