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“Enough,” Shark said, grabbing the woman’s arm and shoving her toward King. “Get her on the table.” Then he looked Maverick straight in the eye as he gave his men orders. “Pants off.”
Well fuck. Maverick’s foster momma always told him his smartass mouth would get him in trouble one day. Looked like today might be that day.
King’s mouth turned up in a smarmy smile as he reached for the woman. Horror crossed her features, and she struggled against him in vain. In seconds, King had her on her back, laid out on the table, arms above her head. Skippy secured them to the table legs with handcuffs.
Then, King made a big production of removing her pants. Tears coursed down her face as she kicked like a pissed-off horse, but Skippy joined in, anchoring her legs to the table. Her slender legs didn’t stand a chance at moving a man King’s size. Maverick tried to help, yelling slurs and insults at each of the men and their families, but to no avail.
Within seconds, her jeans were on the floor and her legs were spread. A blue terrified gaze met Maverick’s. Bile shot up his esophagus. He almost closed his eyes, unable to witness a woman being violated, but forced himself to keep his gaze steady and locked with hers.
She’d need something to focus on, and if he could do that for her, he’d do what he had to, no matter the cost. She bit her already abused lower lip and jerked against the cuffs around her wrists.
The sound of metal clicking against the table reverberated in the room, followed by the chirping of a phone.
Shark checked his cell and frowned. “We got business, boys.” Then he loomed over the woman. “Get comfy. We’ll be back,” he said. And as quick as it all began, Maverick was alone in the room with the frightened woman.
Her body sagged against the table like she’d lost every morsel of energy she had. “You’re okay. You’re okay,” she chanted to herself, almost quieter than Maverick could hear.
Shit, she’d been so brave in the face of the Dragons. To witness her underlying fear put a different kind of ache in his chest.
“What’s your name, sweetheart?” he asked after giving her a few minutes to collect herself.
Her body jerked as though she’d forgotten she wasn’t alone. Her head turned, and she stared at him. As it was, she was beautiful, but when her mouth wasn’t swollen and she didn’t have mascara tracks running down her cheeks, she’d be a knockout. Blonde hair that looked to be about shoulder length and eyes the deepest shade of navy blue. Her skin was olive tan, whether from time in the sun or her natural tone, he didn’t know. But damn if he didn’t want to find out.
“I’m S-Stephanie.” She cleared her throat.
“I’m Maverick or Mav, and I’d say it was nice to meet you, Steph,” he said going straight for informal, “but it’s pretty shitty to meet you, actually.”
When she huffed out a small laugh, warmth filled Maverick’s chest. “Shitty to meet you too, Maverick,” she replied.
As long as she didn’t lose her spirit, she’d be okay. And that was the one thing he could help her with. Whatever he could do to keep her distracted, and maybe make her laugh a time or two. “How’d you get so unlucky as to end up here with me?”
“Unlucky is a good word for it,” she said. “I’m in town with a girlfriend. Just a getaway to the mountains. She pissed me off so I decided a hike by myself would be a good way to relax and get some perspective. It wasn’t. The worst case of wrong place, wrong time that there could be.”
Huh. Something about the story didn’t ring true. Maybe the way she kept shifting her eyes and biting her lip. Then again, she was probably just freaked the fuck out. Not that it mattered if her story wasn’t real. She was here, and that was the bottom line. “Shit, babe, that is some bad luck. Gonna tell you a secret though, okay?”
Cheek against the table, she nodded.
“My boys will be coming for me, and I promise you they won’t leave you here. Not sure how long it’s gonna take, but they will get both of us out of here. So all we have to do is make sure they have two live bodies to rescue. Okay?”
“Your boys? Like your sons?” She stared at him, hanging on his every word.
He laughed. “Hell, no. I don’t have kids. Or a woman, for that matter. My motorcycle club, The Hell’s Handlers.”
Stephanie’s eyes flared with surprise and a tiny hint of unease, but then she smiled. “I think some badass bikers are just what this situation calls for.”
Shit, he liked this woman.
“Sorry you have to stare at my mostly naked ass this whole time. At least they left my underwear on. That has to be a good sign, right?” There was a tremor in her voice like she needed him to agree so she could stop worrying about the risk of rape.
