Total pages in book: 65
Estimated words: 63565 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 318(@200wpm)___ 254(@250wpm)___ 212(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 63565 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 318(@200wpm)___ 254(@250wpm)___ 212(@300wpm)
“I don’t want to help, but I know when I’ve run out of options. I wasn’t born yesterday, biker. If you let me out of here, I’ll work with you. If you keep me here, I’m not saying a damn word, and I promise you, there is not a single thing you and your little club can do to me that’ll break me.”
Mex gives me a look, stern and slightly impressed.
“They aren’t goin’ to let you go, not without proof that you’re good for your word.”
“That’s where we’re going to run into a problem,” I point out. “They want me to give them something, but I also need to know that they’ll let me go if I do. You see the problem here?”
“Not bein’ rude or anything, but are you really surprised that nobody fuckin’ trusts you?”
I snort. “That was rude.”
“Truth fuckin’ hurts.”
“What’s it going to be, Mexican?” I say, tipping my head to the side as my eyes fall onto his lips. “Are you going to help me out or am I going to sit here in silence.”
“I’ll speak to Western. Can’t make any promises, though.”
“Hmmm,” I murmur.
Mex’s eyes drop to my breasts and his jaw ticks. Oh, he’s thinking about last night, too. He wants round two just as much as I do. It was an incredible night, he did things to me that make my toes curl just thinking of them. Oh yes, I wouldn’t mind continuing that little game.
“You want to fuck me again, biker?” I say, my voice low and sultry.
“No.”
I grin. “Oh, I think you do.”
Reaching for my chin, he takes it in his big hand and tips my head back. I bite my lip and his eyes flash with lust. “I can fuck anyone I want, sweetheart. I got what I wanted out of you. Two can play your little game. How does it feel to be fucked? Literally.”
With that, he turns and walks out of the room, locking the door behind him.
Well played, biker.
Well played.
If I had a heart, it would be broken.
Unlucky for him, this game only fuels my fire.
“WHERE IS SHE?”
I spit the blood from my mouth at the biker standing in front of me. He’s mean looking in a way that tells me he’s enjoying every damned second of this. Yes, a man that looks like him is certainly into hitting girls. It sure as hell seems to be his thing right now, because he’s made sure that my lip is split, my eye is black and my body aches. It isn’t bothering him, not a single bit.
Fucking bikers.
“You’re all animals, you know that?” I growl, as blood trickles down my chin. “Does it make your dick hard, hitting women?”
Biker in front of me lunges forward, curling his fingers around my neck and shoving me backward so the chair rocks on only two legs. His grip tightens and the air is quickly trapped in my lungs with nowhere to go. Immediately, my heart begins racing, but I don’t show a single drop of fear. They can do whatever they want, it’ll change nothing for me. I won’t tell them a damned thing until they release me.
“Venom, enough,” Western orders.
“Venom,” I wheeze. “That’s worse than Mex.”
Venom releases me, but not before he shoves me backward. The chair topples over, and I can do nothing to stop it. I land on my back, my hands bound behind me, and my head slams into the concrete. I grit my teeth, refusing to cry out, but the pain that shoots through my head is extreme, and I know it has split open.
“Fuck’s sake,” Colt growls. “Get out.”
Someone reaches down and hauls me up, and, once again, I’m faced with four angry bikers.
Colt, Western, Mex, and Venom.
Another one enters just as I clench my eyes shut to try and stop the blistering pain scorching through my skull.
I think his name is Fury.
“Jesus fuckin’ Christ Prez, what the fuck kind of show are you runnin’ here?”
“I’m gettin’ answers,” Western barks. “Do not question me.”
“She’s a woman,” he snarls.
My eyes flutter open, and I see it’s Fury who is speaking on my behalf.
“She’s a fuckin’ viper.”
“Rude,” I mutter.
Western turns to me, his eyes wild and unhinged.
“Answer the fuckin’ questions or it’ll continue.”
“I’m not answering your fucking questions,” I grind out, “unless you decide to work alongside me, otherwise, you can do whatever you want but nothing will get me to speak.”
“We’ll see about that.”
Walking to the table, he picks up a large set of multigrips. He turns toward me, holding them up. “Ever lost a finger?”
My heart jumps into my throat, but I don’t show it.
“No,” I say casually, “but I’ve got ten so I’m sure I can go without a few.”
Western storms toward me but Colt steps in front of him. “Raised you better, son,” he growls, low. “This ain’t the way.”