Chapter 3
Naomi
I don’t know what to make of the two men who bought me at the auction.
Considering what I was being sold for and the horrifying picture the auctioneer painted, I’d imagined only a monster would bid on me.
But when the gavel came down, and I dared look into the audience to stare down the person who thought he could own me, I saw a man with a handsome, kind face, who looked as dazed and bemused as I was.
When they came backstage and spoke to me, in their eyes I didn’t see lust or evil, only concern.
Could it be that they were telling the truth when they said they don’t intend to hurt me?
I scarcely want to let myself believe it in case it all turns out to be some sort of sadistic trick. To give me hope, only to strip it away at the last second to see the pain on my face.
But so far, they’ve been nothing but kind to me, even agreeing to bring my bike. The thing weighed a ton, but they lifted it onto the truck bed with ease. Though seeing that display of brute strength made me realize that any attempts to run away would be futile.
They say they’re from the Road Renegades, a club I’ve never heard much of before, but then my knowledge of motorcycle clubs begins and ends with the Rusted Scythes, and I only know of them because my father was a member.
But if the Road Renegades are anything like the Rusted Scythes, then these are dangerous men who live outside of the normal rules of society.
I can’t let my guard down around them. I need to play along for now and find out what they want from me.
When they get inside the car, to my surprise, the one who has been speaking to me, Gage, climbs in the back with me.
As we drive away, I find myself stealing furtive glances at him.
I can tell just by looking at him that he’s a mechanic, he’s got that weather-beaten look and workman’s hands with calluses and oil stains that won’t ever scrub off.
On one muscular arm, he sports a tattoo sleeve; typically, I’d be dying to inspect it closely, but I resist the urge to ask about it.
Within the intricate design, I spot a detailed heart design as well as wrenches and gears, which make sense if he’s a mechanic.
His dark brown hair is cut short, but it’s grown out a little and is tousled, as if he spends a lot of time running his hands through it.
He has a neatly trimmed beard and a nice smile that he flashes at me now when he catches me looking. I turn away, looking out of the window.
He speaks softly, as if I’m a frightened mouse that might scurry away at loud noises. “You don’t need to be scared of us. I promise you the only reason we bid on you was to stop some asshole using you.”
I turn my head to meet his gaze, and I am met with honest, hazel eyes. He looks kind.
Despite everything, I find myself believing him.
However, that doesn’t solve the very real problem of the fact that they only postponed my fate by twenty-four hours.
The Rusted Scythes still have my brother, and they still own me.
“I’ll have to face them soon enough. This only buys me a day away from them,” I point out.
“Well, at least she’s grateful you blew all our money and started a war for her, Gage,” the other man says sarcastically. Cash, I believe Gage said his name was.
“Sorry to disappoint you. If you wanted some simpering damsel in distress who would be so grateful she’d let you fuck her as a thank you, so you feel less guilty about buying a virgin, you wasted your money,” I snarl, glowering at Cash in the rearview mirror.
All I can see are his piercing ice-blue eyes that are as sharp as the angles of his face.
He chuckles and looks at me approvingly. “No. I’m beginning to think you were money well spent.”
I’m not sure what he means by that, and I’m annoyed at myself for feeling slightly flattered. I opt for lashing out further to give myself some semblance of control. “If you touch me, I’ll bite your cock off.”
Cash just laughs, the sound rich and full-bodied, as Gage says, “Ace is gonna love her.”
Cash looks serious now. “He’d better. He’s gonna be pissed as hell at you for spending our money and coming home empty-handed with a girl who’s trouble, and news that you’re about to throw a match into a gunpowder keg.”
The way the guys talk tells me they’re close. The banter between them is easy and familiar. I also feel more at ease now that my refusal to fuck them has been well-received. Either that or they find it amusing that I think I have a choice in the matter.
“I’m sorry, who’s Ace?” I ask, looking between the pair.
“Ace is the Prez of the Road Renegades,” Gage explains.
“He sent us to buy guns tonight. He reckons the Rusted Scythes are gonna make a move against us. Romeo here went and spent all our money on you instead, and he has no intention of giving you back to them after twenty-four hours, which, as you well know, means he might as well have declared war there and then.” Cash’s tattooed knuckles flex on the steering wheel.
“So Ace is going to be pissed, and that’s an understatement. ”
I briefly wonder what he means by calling Gage, Romeo.
Is he just teasing, or did he genuinely rescue me tonight out of some misplaced romantic hero complex fantasy?
Though I’m more concerned by the fact I seem to have found myself indebted to not one but two motorcycle club presidents, and I don’t want to be stuck in the middle in their turf war.
“Ace will understand that we had no choice,” Gage assures me, before looking at Cash. “We couldn’t just leave her there.”
“Tell that to Ace, lover boy,” Cash quips.
Gage’s cheeks flush adorably, making me blush too. Pushing that ridiculousness aside, I ask the obvious question. “So if you’re not gonna fuck me, what are you planning on doing with me?”
“That’s up to Ace, so you’d better play nice,” Cash warns. I’m not sure if he’s being serious or not.
A look of annoyance flashes across Gage’s face, and he barks at his friend. “Fucking hell, Cash, the poor woman is traumatized and has been through god knows what, and you’re trying to scare her further!”
I feel touched by his anger on my behalf. Perhaps he is really telling the truth and simply wanted to help me.
Cash has the decency to look embarrassed. “Sorry, Naomi, I didn’t mean to scare you. Ace is a decent man; he’s not gonna throw you to the wolves, none of us will.”
Scarcely able to believe it, I ask hopefully, “So you won’t take me back to them in twenty-four hours?”
“We won’t take you back ever, not if you don’t want,” Gage assures me.
I nod, holding back the tears that sting in the corner of my eyes. I refuse to cry. “What about my brother?” I ask.
“You mentioned that they had him. What happened?” Gage gently probes.
I find myself opening up and telling him the whole story, right up until we met. When I finish, Gage hands me a tissue. I didn’t even realize I’d been crying. “Thank you,” I say, my voice thick and nasal.
I feel slightly embarrassed that he’s seen me cry, but Gage doesn’t look at me with pity, only sympathy and understanding. “It will be okay, Naomi,” he says softly, and for the first time tonight, I find myself believing it might be.
***
I was so emotionally drained and exhausted I must have drifted off, because I have no idea what time it is, where I am, or how long we’ve been driving for.
When I finally wake with a start, we’re pulling into a sleepy neighborhood.
Gage jumps when I open my eyes to look at him, caught red-handed watching me sleep.
“You shouldn’t watch people sleep, it’s creepy,” I tell him with no real venom in my voice.
I don’t mind, in fact, it’s oddly sweet.
Again, he flushes, a reaction that is so unusual and adorable on such a rugged man, I know I’ll continue to search for ways to provoke it.
“Where are we? This can’t be your clubhouse,” I ask, confused, as we pull up outside an unassuming-looking house.
“No. It’s our home. Cash and I live here with Ace. The clubhouse is nearby, but we figured you’d be best off meeting Ace away from the rest of the club, and that you probably didn’t want to deal with meeting people tonight,” Gage explains.
It’s a thoughtful gesture, and he’s right in thinking I’m not up for seeing anyone.
“Thank you,” I reply softly, so quiet I wonder if he didn’t hear me.
I feel nervous about meeting this mysterious Ace.
What if he throws me out, or insists they return me?
My fate lies in the hands of a man I haven’t met.
A man who is feared and respected enough to provoke loyalty in some of the toughest men around.
The guys lead me into their home, a masculine space that is clearly lived in only by men but is nevertheless tidy and welcoming.
In the living area, they have mounted a large flat-screen TV on the wall, facing a spacious L-shaped couch.
The television is off, and instead of sitting on the sofa, the man whom I presume to be Ace is sitting in a La-Z-Boy next to the window.
The soft glow of a lamp beside him bathes the room in warm light, casting shadows on his proud, masculine features, a straight, aquiline nose, and a strong jawline highlighted by his well-groomed beard.
In his hands, he holds a glass of whiskey and a book.
It’s an unexpected sight, entirely at odds with what I had imagined the president of the Road Renegades to be like.
Sure, he’s a great beast of a man, his broad, muscular frame filling the chair that would swamp me if I were in it.
He has short, jet-black hair, streaked with gray, cut shorter on the sides, and a short beard.
There’s a scar that runs just above his brow, slicing it in half, which adds to his rugged appearance.
I did not expect him to be so attractive, though, given that Cash and Gage are, I guess I shouldn’t be surprised.
However, the thing that has thrown me off guard is the fact that he’s sat here with his nose buried in a book.
Bookworm and biker aren’t exactly synonymous.
He looks up at me over the top of his book, fixing me with eyes so dark they’re onyx, and I swear my heart stops.
The softness of the reading scholar is replaced by the raw, dominant energy that reveals the dangerous man I anticipated.
He calmly places his book on the side and finishes his drink before he rises slowly from his chair like a king commanding court.
He’s even bigger than I thought at full height.
He’s at least six-three, a couple of inches taller than Cash, who I thought was a giant.
His dark, predator’s gaze doesn’t waver from me the whole time, and like the prey I am, I freeze. Finally, he looks at Cash and Gage.
“Who is this? And where are the damn guns?” he asks, his voice deathly calm.
Ace doesn’t say a word as Gage and Cash explain everything—though the disapproval emanates from him. When they’ve finished, he scrutinizes me, and I do my best not to shy away from his intense gaze.
“What’s your brother’s name?” he asks me.
It wasn’t the question I was expecting, but then something tells me everything about Ace is unexpected.
“Eli, Eli Moore.” If he recognizes the name, he doesn’t show it.
The guys have already explained how Eli—and by extension, me—got involved with the Rusted Scythes, so he doesn’t ask anything else.
Using my opportunity, I take a chance and speak up.
“Please, will you help me rescue my brother? He’s been hurt real bad.
I don’t know if they’ve taken him to a hospital or not, and he could die without medical help,” I plead.
Ace rounds on me furiously, closing the space between us to stand dangerously close to me.
He stops inches short, as if restraining himself from grabbing me.
His voice is low and menacing when he speaks.
“We aren’t foot soldiers for you to command.
You’ll do well to remember who owns whom right now.
As far as I heard it, you cost me almost thirty grand tonight. ”
“If you want someone to blame, blame him,” I snap, jerking my head at Gage. “I didn’t ask for any of this.”
His eyes narrow. “I would have thought you’d be more grateful considering what my men saved you from.”
“They didn’t save me at all if you decide to send me back when the deadline is up.” I look at him, willing him to tell me that he won’t do that, to say to me I’m safe here as Gage did.
Ace fixes me with that steely gaze of his. “Give me one good reason why I should go to war for you? Why should my men risk their lives to keep you safe?”
I almost allow hopelessness to take over. After all, he’s right. Who am I to them? Nothing. But then I quietly reply. “Because if you send me back, you’re no better than them.”
Ace doesn’t respond, and I feel strangely disappointed when his focus drops from me, like a marionette cut from its strings.
“Gage, show Miss Moore to the guestroom. Be sure to lock it.” Ace doesn’t even look at me again as Gage gently coaxes me from the room.
Gage doesn’t seem to know what to say, and his words sound hollow when he assures me that Ace will come around, that they won’t send me back.
My eyes sting with tears of shame as he leads me to a small but comfortable guest room with an ensuite bathroom.
I’d allowed myself to hope that Ace might be like the others, that he might see in me whatever they had felt was worth saving, but it’s clear that he thinks I’m a liability.
No doubt he’ll send me right back to where they found me in the morning.
I barely hear Gage as he explains where fresh towels and pajamas are for me to use.
I nod along numbly. This time, when he tells me everything will be okay, I don’t believe him.
I don’t meet his eye, and I can’t bring myself even to reply when he gently bids me goodnight.
He hovers in the doorway, lingering as if to say something before deciding against it and closing the door behind him.
For the first time in a very long time, I contemplate cutting again. I look down at the thin, white scars on my arm, partially obscured by the moon phase tattoos there, and remind myself that I promised Eli I would never harm myself again, no matter what.
He broke his promise to you. He said he would always protect you. Why should you keep your promise when he’s abandoned you to the wolves? The saboteur in my head reminds me.
I take a long, hot shower, scrubbing my skin raw, trying to forget.
When I emerge, I can hear the sounds of the men arguing downstairs, determining my fate.
I change into the flannel pajamas and climb into the soft, white bedding, feeling like a prisoner who’s been granted a final night of luxury before they’re headed to the gallows.