Rogue's Vow (Royal Bastards MC, Tucson Az. #1)

1. Angel

ANGEL

My heart pounds with adrenaline, my legs racing through the alleys as fast as they can, in and out, between brick walls, garbage cans, pushing faster into the darkness of the night as the bastards chase.

Across the streets, dodging oncoming cars, ducking between big city buildings until it feels like miles have gone by.

Soon, I’m going to slow, they’ll catch me, and when they do, they’ll take me right back to the place I just escaped.

I’ll die before I let them take me again.

A large alleyway lined with garbage receptacles for the local businesses provides a refuge, somewhere dark and hidden to catch my breath but I’m not going to have long to regroup.

Those bastards aren’t going to give up and I know it.

There’s just far too much money at stake.

My breath heaves, coming in loud inhales and exhales that I’m almost positive someone can hear even as I do my best to keep it quiet and under control.

It takes time, precious time. Slowly I’m able to regulate and catch my breath, inhaling deep and slowly blowing out, half kneeling behind a large square dumpster, but the voices that don’t sound too far away get me moving again.

I slink along the shadows of the walls of the alleyway, moving as fast as I can without drawing attention to myself but the footsteps pounding the pavement get louder and louder.

They’re far too close. I need distance fast, so I take the chance, hitting a full-on sprint, racing as fast as I can to get as far away from the evil bastards as I can.

I’m not going to keep up this pace, they know, and I know it too. I’m already heaving again, doing my best to draw air into lungs that are moving way too fast to function well.

A light shines from an old building in the distance, tucked away behind the main street’s traffic and away from prying eyes.

Everyone in this city who knows anything about motorcycle clubs knows that club belongs to the Royal Bastards.

Panic fills my heart, but it’s either take a chance on them protecting me or get dragged back by the men who make demons in a horror story look like fucking saints.

There really is no other choice.

I run, racing, running as hard as I can, my heart pounding out of my chest, sprinting so fast for the front door of the Royal Bastards’ club that I can barely breathe, gasping for air and trying to keep forward momentum as I reach their club.

Hard rock music hits my ears the minute I burst through the door.

The bald sentry watching the club entrance tries to grab me, but I seem to have caught him off guard.

“Help!” I scream, racing past baldie who catches the strap of my tank top from behind as other members of the club circle around me.

I swallow hard. These men are intimidating as fuck.

All dressed in denim jeans, white T-shirts and black leather cuts with their patches on full display, and not looking too friendly at all.

Those penetrating eyes, all sizing me up, and I know from rumors and listening to the Scorpions when I shouldn’t that these men, they can hold their own in any rumble, they don’t play when it comes to protecting their territory.

And I just threatened their peace from the Scorpions by walking through that door.

Fuck.

I’m not going to get past this wall of anger.

I’m so out of breath from running that all I can do is heave in air, trying to catch my breath.

All my energy used up, my only chance to escape and now my very life depends on men who look just as ferocious and scary as my previous captors.

All this tonight, just to be taken right back to the very hellhole that I escaped.

My mind screams with feared defeat, knowing what comes next if I’m found by the enemy but unsure of what fate this crew plans to dole out.

The Scorpions can’t be far behind. They’re going to find me and when they do, I’m going to be taken back to their club, and this time, they’re going to make me wish I had never run.

My body shivers with the thoughts of going back to the Scorpions or being sold for the money they can make from a virgin if I’m returned, or take my chances dealing with the notorious one percenters who stand in front of me and aren’t known for anything good.

The bald-headed sentry for the Royal Bastards gazes menacingly. “Who the fuck are you and what do you want?”

I swallow down my fear, but it’s not easy because he’s not the only one looking at me this way.

I shouldn’t tell them who I’m running from because if the Scorpions ever find out, they’re going to kill me, but it’s the only answer to his question that I have.

“Running from the Scorpions,” I pant, still trying to regain control of my breathing.

A tall muscular man with a small neat beard closes in. He looks at the sentry. “What the fuck?”

Baldy’s eyes go wide. “She burst through the fucking door like a streak, Hayze.”

Hayze looks me up and down before meeting me square in the eye. “Who are you and why are you here?”

A lanky guy sneers. “She’s a fucking plant. I’ve seen her dancing at a couple clubs around town and shaking her ass. She belongs to the Scorpions. Word is she dances for them at clubs all over the city. Most of us have seen her at a few.”

The bastards don’t know me or anything about me. They can think what they want, but I do what I have to in order to survive.

“Her name’s Angel. At least on stage, but she doesn’t look like any angel to me. Looks like a dirty Scorpion skank,” the lanky guy says.

My chest heaves with despair. He’s not exactly wrong, but he doesn’t know the truth either. The reason that I’ve been dancing or doing exactly what the Scorpions demand.

The other Royal Bastards in the bar close in as the hard rock music plays, and the hammering in my chest grows louder.

This was a bad idea. Of course they know me, all the bikers frequent the strip clubs in town.

How did I think this was going to end? But desperation after I’ve managed to get this far spurs me on.

“I’m not with the Scorpions. They snatched me.

I was finally able to get away. You have to believe me. ”

The one they call Hayze doesn’t seem fazed by my explanation. “We’ll see. Keep her here. I’ll go talk with Rogue.”

The bald sentry tugs on the end of his cut looking menacing as hell as the hard rock music pulses in the background.

“You’re not welcome here. You dance for the enemy, Angel.

No member of the Royal Bastards is going to welcome you to our club to spy, get in good with any of our guys or anything of the sort. You got me?”

My chest pounds with anger, his words cutting deep, but the escape, the run, and the fear of being dragged right out of here and back into the arms of the Scorpions who were planning to sell me to one of the highest bidders scares me a hell of a lot more.

I try to answer, I really do, but the world swirls around in my mind, and all the men closing in, they may as well take me because I don’t have a fight left to give. I’m done. If they want to give me back to the Scorpions, then they will, no matter my intentions, my fight, or will to survive.

Baldie one isn’t going to let me go without a little fun. It’s in his eyes as he closes the distance, placing both hands on me, pushing hard on my shoulders, and making me sink to my knees.