Haven (Vexxed Vipers #1)

1. Rory

One

Rory

With one last puff of my cigarette, I crushed the butt under the sole of my leather boot.

All I wanted was a moment of peace to breathe poison into my lungs, but instead this creep ruined it by smacking my ass.

Was some peace too much to ask for around here?

I took in the man who had touched me without my consent as he watched me with hungry eyes.

The tight-fitting leather and revealing corset tops I wore were not for the male gaze, thank you.

A thrill pulsed inside me as I reached into my pocket and wrapped my hand around my pink switchblade and the custom-made Hello Kitty brass knuckles my sister ordered for me years ago.

She gave them to me when I was eighteen, along with a pretty permit to use for self-defense.

They came in handy for moments like this.

The man had friends with him, and I was ready to kick some pervy ass.

Mama didn’t raise no bitch. Well, Mama did—but my sister sure as fuck didn’t.

I spun on my heel, leaning against the wall as he and his friends circled me like I was prey and they were predators.

The man who smacked my ass rubbed his palms together as if he couldn’t hold in his anticipation.

I was going to have fun with this, but I knew when Cinder got word, she would be pissed.

Contemplating the consequences, I decided to ask my sister for forgiveness later—because they deserved it for being creeps and lacking the concept of consent.

She’d be more pissed off that I was in Crestview than fighting six grown men.

He caged me in, and the moment his mouth opened, I was in a rotting pit of sour alcohol and old takeout. “Aye, baby.”

Might as well play along. I grinned widely, looking up into his dark, drunk eyes. “Hey there.” Gum on the bottom of my boot looked better than this motherfucker.

“What’s a fine thang like you doin’ out this way?”

I smirked, twisting my blade in my pocket. “Oh, you know, lookin’ for some trouble.” Listen, I didn’t go around finding violence—but when it found me, I danced in bliss.

He grabbed my jaw, running his thumb down my cheek. It took everything in me not to cringe at his calloused touch. “Whaddya say we go for a ride and the seven of us have some fun? Show ya a good ole time?”

I licked my lower lip, and he watched the movement intently. “It’s a party.”

Six fully grown men—and me. The last time I had a fight like this was three years ago at Reject’s Paradise, my sister’s bar, and those men were sober.

It wouldn’t be hard to kick men’s asses who reeked like a liquor store.

The confidence felt questionable, but I would worry about it later.

Right now, I was ready to kick some ass.

His friends moved in with wicked grins. They thought they would get lucky tonight and have a taste of forbidden fruit.

I was itching to get laid, but none of these men were what I was looking for.

I liked the more feminine variety and the ones that I couldn’t have, but hey, I’d take kicking their asses as foreplay.

Captain Dickhead grabbed my waist, pulling me into him. “You know what sounds fun?” Excitement flashed through all of them, and I clenched my left fist over my pink Hello Kitty knuckles.

My foot crushed his, and he grunted, calling me a bitch as he dug his nails into my hip. I brought my knee up and hit him in the balls before giving him an uppercut to the jaw. He fell to the ground, then I turned to the remaining five.

“You asswipes are pussyblocking me in the worst fucking way,” I growled as I clenched my fists.

“We’ll fuck yer nice and well, baby girl,” one slurred his words.

“I’d rather shove a cactus up my pussy and drag my labia across hot asphalt.”

I spun on my heel, elbowing one of them in the nose, hearing the sweet sound of bone crunching.

To say I was an amateur would be a lie. My sister got me into training the moment she brought me back to Briarwood to cope with my trauma, in order to defend myself in case another motherfucker decided to hurt me.

It took a few months and a failed suicide attempt for me to truly focus and learn, but I did eventually.

I grabbed my hot pink chrome switchblade, another one of Cinder’s gifts, and grasped it in my right hand.

It took training to get this good at combat while wielding a blade, but I learned it was good to have options in a fight.

Did I ever think I would use it in a fight six to one?

Absolutely not. But Cinder would be proud of me after she got over the whole enemy territory thing.

Two down, four left. One wrapped their grimy hands around my waist, whispering filth in my ear, but I stomped on his foot before stabbing him in the side.

I typically went for the thigh or arms since everything else could kill, but fuck it.

Cinder got me out of shit before, she could clear this up too.

The other two were looking at me like I was their next meal, but little did they know they’d be eating their teeth for dinner tonight.

“Come on, hunny. First one to get me on my back gets to go for a wild ride,” I taunted the two in front of me.

I needed a name or something to describe them other than Ugly One and Ugly Two.

The first one had a buzz cut and a scar on his left eye.

His friend has greasy blond hair, an eyebrow piercing, and a beard that was too long and gross.

“Come on, baby, let ole Roach show you a good time.” He grinned. Roach? His name was Roach?

“Roach? What’s your friend’s name, cock?”

The other one gave me a toothy yellow grin. “Name’s Maddog, baby. Learn it. I think it’ll sound pretty coming from your lips.”

That line would be hot from someone—preferably a woman about to devour me—but not the embodiment of a creep from down the block.

I wanted to finish this so I could go on with my night.

Maddog stepped behind me while Roach closed in on my front.

Their last standing buddy was off to the side, waiting his turn. He must’ve been the runt of the group.

I glanced behind me, seeing a pole. If I could time this right, I could use it to my advantage.

I slammed my body against Maddog, and he was immediately distracted.

All he felt was a fat ass on his cock before his back was against the pole.

He grunted at the impact, and I slammed my head back, hitting his face and using the pole as added force.

I spun on my heels and kneed him in the balls before facing Roach again—which was a stupid fucking name, by the way.

I rubbed the back of my head where I hit Maddog.

That’ll leave a knot in the morning. “Goddamn, you’ve got a hard head,” I hissed as Roach lunged for me.

I swung my fist and hit him in the jaw, but it wasn’t enough to make him go down.

Did no one at this fucking truck stop care that a woman was being attacked by men?

I was going to come back and burn this bitch to the ground.

“I got something else that’s hard, too.” Was that supposed to be a turn-on? The baby of the bunch rushed to Roach’s side to assist, but I could kick his ass in a heartbeat. “Grab her, War.”

I glared at him. War was such a badass name for the meek kid in front of me.

He lunged at me, but I punched him and knocked him out.

I was distracted enough for Roach to grab me and push me against the wall.

He punched me, splitting my lip. Would it be a bad idea to tell him he hit like a bitch when I was in this position? Probably.

“I’m gonna have fun with this,” he growled.

“You think so? Come on, big boy, take my pants off.”

He fumbled with the button on my leather pants, but the dumbass was so focused on my pussy that he forgot about the knife in my hand. I plunged it into his shoulder and twisted the handle, making him scream bloody murder.

I pushed him away, cursing my split lip. “Fucking hell.” I kicked him before storming off to my Ducati Panigale. I knew I shouldn’t have stopped at this seedy truck stop, but I had to pee and wanted a cigarette.

I could already hear the venom in Cinder’s voice when she got wind of what had happened.

We might have been a biker town, but I was the only one I knew with a hot pink Ducati.

It was a custom piece Cinder gave me for my twenty-second birthday.

She probably regretted it now, since I never stayed at the clubhouse and I found trouble wherever I went.

I’d had my fair share of shitty cards dealt in my twenty-six years of life, but double rejection took the fucking cake.

It was my own damn fault. Actually, I lied—it was Morgan “Joker” McBeth’s fault.

I saw why the deranged bitch was called Joker.

Little na?ve eighteen-year-old Rory listened to the pretty words of a woman who promised her things.

Those promises ended with me being drugged and assaulted by a woman my sister trusted.

Cinder and Vesper found me just before Morgan could lay hands on me.

After that night, Cinder made it known that I would be off-limits to every Viper and person in Briarwood.

Obviously, it didn’t work. I was in love with Vesper and Widow.

I feared love and catching feelings for someone because of what Morgan did or tried to do to me.

After I spent time in therapy and listened to my heart, I knew what I wanted.

Now I was older, healed, and in love with two women I was forbidden from dating.

After what Widow did, I shouldn’t want either of them, but my heart sang for them.

Love was a real fucking cunt.