Chapter 2 Scarlett
Scarlett
I’m tied to him. I’m actually fucking tied to him.
As if it wasn’t brutal enough to break into the clubhouse and kidnap me. Now a thick rope binds me to him as we speed down the highway on the back of his motorbike.
They had a van. They could have thrown me in the back, but this brute decided he’d rather tie me up.
I’m not scared we’ll have an accident. I’ve been riding since before I could walk. And even though this guy’s a brute, I feel safe on the back of his bike.
I’m pressed up against him so close that I can smell his leathers and musky scent. My arms are forced around his waist, and my cheek presses against the back of his biker jacket. I’m pressed so close I’ll probably have “Underground Crows MC” emblazoned on my cheek.
Maybe that’s what Bruno wants. I knew who he was the moment I saw him. I’ve known my father’s enemies my whole life.
They were friends once, Dad and Bruno. I used to play with his daughter. But that was a long time ago, before whatever dealings got in the way and made them rivals.
My dad will be furious when he finds out what they’ve done. I should have gone with the club out of town, but I volunteered to stay and clean the clubhouse. I’d rather clean up old beer and vomit than go drinking with the club.
I’d have to stay sober and watch myself and make sure I’m never alone in case one of the bikers cornered me and tried to kiss me…or worse.
Which is probably what Bruno’s got planned. That’s the ultimate revenge, isn’t it? Ravage the women of your rival?
Panic sweeps through me, and I pull at the bindings on my hands. The bike swerves, and Bruno slows down but doesn’t stop.
He probably knows I don’t have a move here. What am I going to do? Cause us to have an accident?
My mind whirs at the possibilities. I suppose we’d skid and fall off, and I’m wearing a helmet so I might be okay, or I might not. But that would be better than being ravaged by this brute. Would it, though? My body whispers.
I shake the thought aside and try to forget the tug in my core that I felt when Bruno pinned me down, the way my nipples have been hard ever since he threw me over his shoulder, and the fact that as we ride down the freeway, my thighs pressed tight against him, there’s a damp heat building in my panties.
It’s just the vibrations of the bike, I tell myself.
Bruno’s of the same ilk as my father. He’s hard and cold, and even though he feels safe, I can’t trust him. I need to do whatever I can to escape, to get away from him and back to my father.
It’s another twenty minutes before the bike slows and we pull into what I assume is the Underground Crows HQ.
The tang of salt hangs on the air, and the sounds of waves crashing against concrete lets me know we’re right on the water’s edge.
Bruno kills the engine and takes his helmet off.
“If I untie this rope, are you gonna run?”
I glance around, not sure yet what I’ll do. At one end of the parking lot is a building with a neon sign announcing, “Girls, girls, girls.”
The Crows own a strip bar. Charming. That tells me everything I need to know about these men, that they’re just like the men at my club. They believe women are only here for one thing. Two if you count cleaning.
The club compound is surrounded on two sides by water.
Because I’m my father’s daughter, my first thought is about how that limits your escape options.
Until I see dark shapes lined up and bobbing in the water.
It seems the Crows keep a contingent of boats and jet skis.
Either they love being out on the ocean, or they’ve got one hell of a getaway plan.
The other guys are pulling up alongside the Pres, and after the van pulls in, someone rushes out to shut the gate. I’m shut in, with iron gates on one side and the ocean on the other. There’s nowhere to run to.
“No.” I shake my head. Because where would I go?
Bruno unties the rope that has my arms around him, and I pull my hands back. They ache with stiffness, and I rub them, trying to get the blood flowing.
Bruno gets off the bike, and my body immediately misses his warmth. Treacherous body.
He offers a hand, but I brush past him as I swing my leg over and off the bike. If there’s one thing I know how to handle, it’s a bike—which gives me an idea.
A jet ski is really just a bike on the water. If I can get to one, I’m pretty sure I could ride it. And if they’re lined up and ready for a getaway, I’d bet money that the keys are in them.
That’s what my dad would do.
“You okay?”
Bruno’s gaze is intense, and I get the feeling that it’s not just a courtesy check-in. He really wants to know if I’m okay.
There’re scratch marks on his face and a trickle of blood on his cheek, and I’m proud that I put them there, but also feel a little bad for him, which is stupid. He kidnapped me.
The reminder of how we got here sends a fresh bolt of anger through me, and I want to scratch him again. But I force myself to look defeated. Let him think that I’m cowed.
“I’m fine,” I say, rubbing the blood back into my arms.
He turns to speak to the guys coming in on their bikes. Now’s my chance.
I take off, heading for the water and the jet skis.
There’s a shout behind me and the pounding of feet, but I daren’t look back. I’m almost at the water, and if I can’t make it to the jet skis, I’ll just throw myself into the ocean.
My heart is hammering in my chest. I’ve never run so fast in my life. The footsteps get louder and then strong arms are around me. I’m being lifted off my feet, and I kick them wildly, not caring what I connect with.
“Let me go!”
But Bruno just tightens his grip. I know it’s him because I already recognize his distinct smell, and his voice is deep when he speaks barely over a whisper. It makes my whole body shiver.
“Never.”
Then he’s got me over his shoulder again, and I pound his back as he carries me into the clubhouse and up the stairs.
He carries me into a room and deposits me on the bed.
The sheets are plush and silky, and even though I should be scared, I can’t help admiring how much nicer this clubhouse is than ours.
I sit on the bed, and Bruno kneels before me and grips my shoulders like he’s talking to a child.
And I guess that’s what he thinks I am. A child.
That shouldn’t disappoint me, but it does.
“I’m not going to hurt you, Scarlett. You’ve got to believe me.”
I want to believe him, but why else would he kidnap me and bring me into a bedroom with plush sheets if it wasn’t to let the club loose on me?
I shiver at the thought, and a flash of confusion crosses his face.
“You don’t have to be scared here, honey. No one’s going to hurt you.”
He says it slowly, and a part of me starts to think that maybe it’s true.
“No one’s going to hurt you, but you’ve got to stop fighting me, okay?”
I nod my head because he wants me to believe him, and maybe if I go along with it, I’ll find a way to escape.
“I’m going to leave you here to calm down. I’ll bring some food up to you soon. Make yourself comfortable.”
He leaves the room, and as he shuts the door, there’s a clinking sound that lets me know he’s locked the door.
I get up and try it anyway, but sure enough, it’s locked.
A quick tour of the room shows a window that leads to a dark alleyway. I open it and lean out, but I can’t see how far down it is or what’s below.
There’s a small bathroom off the bedroom, but the window in there is too small for the likes of me to squeeze through.
I go back to the bed and flop onto it. The memory foam mattress molds to my body, and it’s so much comfier than the lumpy mattress on the floor that I usually sleep on.
The covers are satin, and I run them over my cheek, enjoying the silky feel against my skin. I bet that feels good on your body.
My body suddenly feels heavy, the adrenaline from the last hour draining away. I need to escape, but first, I’ll just see what it feels like to lie down in a soft bed with a comfy mattress.
I’m Bruno’s prisoner, for now. But I may as well enjoy a good night’s sleep in a plush bed while I’m here.