Nineteen
T he first few hours after waking, I was tormented by the fact that I heard someone enter the room more than once, but they didn’t speak, or remove the blindfold. They wouldn’t reply when I spoke to them either.
The third time that person entered, assuming it was always the same one, I flinched when I felt fingers touch my face, and stroke my cheek. They gently caressed my skin, and then trailed down my neck. I trembled as those fingers traced my collarbone, and started to edge lower.
“Stop,” I gasped, wishing I knew who was in the room, touching me. Could it be Ryder? Could this all be some game, some power trip, to show me how it felt to be him? As if I didn’t already know. As if I hadn’t been there before .
There was a flapping movement. Fabric. Oh . There had been a sheet over me, and it had just been whipped away. The breeze against my skin when it moved told me that they’d stripped me. I was completely naked, and there was a person touching me. Against my will.
“No,” I started to pray. Please be Ryder . Please be the one man I might be able to tolerate touching me, because I suddenly knew that I might be able to. That he was different. Maybe that was why I’d been obsessing about him, because maybe he was the right one.
“It’s been too long, Victoria,” the voice whispered, and in that moment, my stomach lurched, and my lungs seemed to stop working. No. Not him. Please, not him .
Ryder
W hat the fuck was this shit? He had to be messing with me.
“Wait. Slow down. Her father is who now?”
Ice looked frustrated at having to repeat himself.
“Massimo fucking Rossi. Mafia. She’s a mafia don’s fucking daughter.”
I shook my head. “That’s not possible. That’s not even her name.” Dumb fuck that I am, I couldn’t remember the surname they’d mentioned before, but it wasn’t Rossi. I’d have remembered that, I’m sure I would have.
“So her family have her?” Stitch interrupted, trying to get to the point.
Reacher groaned, shaking his head.
“She’s estranged from her family. She’s been hiding under the radar of being this Tori Hastings chick, but apparently she’s someone far more important.”
No. Fuck it. None of that matters. She needs me to save her .
“If you’ve found that out, why the hell haven’t you found her yet?”
Ice shoved back from his desk, his chair crashing to the floor, as he cursed at me.
“You think you can do a better job, asshole, go right ahead. You think this shit is fucking easy? You think hacking shit, and realising I’m sneaking into the fucking mafia’s business is a good thing? I get caught, and we’re all in fucking trouble.”
Reacher had retrieved the chair, and carefully eased Ice back down to his desk.
“Ignore him, brother. I know you’re on top of this. Tell me. If she’s mafia, who might have taken her?”
Ice took a deep breath, cracking his knuckles as he glared at me. Yeah, I wasn’t about to be forgiven any time soon, but right now that wasn’t my priority. She was.
“Her father has a beef with another family; the Casettis. You don’t want to know where I’ve been snooping around to have found this, but this goes back to when she was eighteen.”
I didn’t even know how old she was now. There was so much I didn’t know, but I’d find her, and I’d get to learn all of it. I had to.
“Go on,” Reacher prompted, shooting me a glare that was very clear in its intent. Keep my fucking trap shut . I nodded, because every delay I caused was more time some asshole had with my woman.
“Dominic Casetti is the head of the family now, but back then he was just the oldest son. He took a shine to Victoria Rossi.”
“Victoria?”
“What did you think Tori might be short for, fuckwad?” Jeez . I held my hands up, mouthing my apology to Ice.
“From what I can find, it looks like when she refused him, she was taken by him, and subjected to days of sexual assaults. He kept her drugged, and tied up, and put her through hell.”
Jesus . My legs shook, and Stitch nudged me into a seat, just as they gave out. Suddenly things were making a hell of a lot of sense.
“He raped her,” I whispered. That’s why she does what she does. Ultimate control. No risk. And yet, she’s mirroring her own horror, by making others suffer through it.
Ice looked sad when he nodded.
“She was a mess by the time they got her back. In and out of rehab, suicide attempts, you name it. And then years ago, she just disappeared. The suspicion was that she’d succeeded at last.”
I rubbed my hands over my face. So much was falling into place. Her fragility, when I started to push her. Her uncertainty, when she wasn’t in control. Her need to stage things, to suit her need to be in charge.
“You with us, brother?” Stitch squeezed my shoulder, and I nodded.
“Yeah.” My voice was a little raspy, but they let it slide.
“So do her family have her now?” Reacher was asking Ice, who clenched his fists again.
“I don’t think so. The van was registered to a shell company, and I’m unpicking it, but my fear is that it’s Casetti who has her, not her family. And if he’s got her…”
Everyone focused on me, as he finished, “… then he’s likely looking to pick up where he left off.”
In other words, the sick bastard planned to keep her drugged, so he could rape her any time he wanted. Over. My. Dead. Fucking. Body.
There was a low growling sound coming from somewhere, and when I realised it was coming from me, I was already standing, and throwing my chair across the room. It crashed against the door, and Ice cursed me.
“Get me an address, Ice. I’m going in, and I’ll fucking get her out of there. We can’t let him hurt her again.”
He glared at me. “And what the fuck do you think I’ve been working on this whole damn time, asshole?”
I lunged across the room at him, grabbing his throat as we both crashed to the floor. He threw a punch, and I took it right on the fucking chin. It snapped my head back, but I came right back at him, one hand still on his throat as the other hit him right in the eye.
“Bastard!” He cursed, slamming a knee up into my gut, and rolling me away from him, just as Reacher and Stitch caught hold of us.
“For fuck’s sake! We have enough shit going on without you two having a barney. Get it together!” Reacher threw Ice back in his chair. “Now get us a fucking address.”
Then he pointed at me. “You get the fuck out of here until we call for you and by that, I mean, go to your damn room. You even think of leaving the compound, and I’ll kick the living shit out of you.”
Fuck. I left the room like a spanked puppy, because I’d finally pushed my Club President to the fucking limit. I knew when I’d gone too far, and it was right the hell now.
Another precious hour passed, and another, and then a fist slammed against my door, before it crashed open.
“We found the bastard,” Torch said, gesturing at me to hurry up. Were we going to save her? Were we going to find her at all? Would she be alive? Injured? Raped? I had no idea. I was terrified of what we’d find, but I knew I’d go there, and I’d fight to the death to get her out of there.
And isn’t that what a biker does for his old lady? Jesus fucking Christ. Am I claiming her?
W e followed the van out of the compound, with six of us on the club’s backup bikes, and four prospects in the van.
The address Ice had found was of a place probably as well protected as ours, so we’d armed up. We didn’t generally use guns, but we all had one strapped to us for this. We mostly used knives, fists, feet, and any other objects that happen to be around. Blowtorches, if your road name is Torch , that kind of thing.
But we were hitting a mafia house, and for all I knew, we were hitting a fucking stronghold, full of armed bastards. And we were rushing in there to save a serial rapist. My rapist. The woman who’d drugged me, and forced me into sex, like I wouldn’t have done her anyway.
We had a pre-arranged spot down the road from the address to pull up, and make our way on foot. The van would move closer, because it was less obvious, and we’d probably need it to get her out of there. We couldn’t, however, head right to the front door on our bikes. They’d hear us a mile off, and then we’d be sitting ducks.