AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Why don’t we have another drink?” she offered, seeing glasses and bottled water nearby.
The Cutthroat grabbed her by the throat, and she fought for breath. His hold was much stronger than she expected. “A feisty one. Just my type.”
She opened her mouth to scream, but no sound escaped. Nervous sweat beaded on her brow. All her training flashed through her mind, but the more he maintained pressure on her throat, the less it made sense. Black crowded her vision, closing in quickly. She clawed at his flesh, her attempts futile the longer he choked her.
Her body suddenly collided with the couch and cool air trailed her thighs. Whatever he put in her drink was suddenly hitting her like a diesel semi. She blinked, but he was fuzzier by the moment. Battling him, she winced when he slapped her hands away and pressed them into the couch cushion. Hands pinned, she tried to kick him, but her legs refused to obey.
“I don’t mind if you scream,” he whispered, running his hands over her breasts. “In fact, if you struggle a bit, that actually helps.”
Nikita didn’t know how to react. Her mind yelled at her to do something, but her body had gone dormant. The familiar crinkling of a condom wrapper made the rosary whir in her mind. She hadn’t said a prayer in years, but suddenly it was all she could recite.
“Get the fuck away from her unless you want your dick shot off,” a deep male voice growled above her drug-induced haze.
She squinted and made out a second man in the room, pulling the Cutthroat away from her. The two scuffled, punches being thrown between them. She couldn’t make out the parties, head wobbling and body heavy.
Finally, what sounded like a giant toppling to the floor met her, and she sat up. One body was motionless in the corner, the other hovering over to make sure he was down. The victor swiveled toward her and ran a hand over his head. She inhaled sharply, that act alone difficult.
“Goddammit, Kita.”
Her vision began to clear, the drug’s haze slowly wearing off thanks to the adrenaline coursing through her system. Now, she recognized him. “Tucker?” She coughed and cringed at the pain that caused. Her throat throbbed from where the biker had gripped her. She lifted a hand to it and winced at the bruising already forming.
A guttural sound resonated from his lips, and he easily pulled her off the couch and into his arms.
“What the hell were you….” He shook his head, his face masked in frustration. “Never mind. Let’s get you out of here before another dumbass tries to rape you.”
“I had it under control,” she argued, the words hoarse.
Kevlar looked down at her. “Mmhmm. I see that.”
She cuddled against his chest, the cigarette smoke on his shirt suddenly overpowered by a more familiar one. It was one she’d never smelled after her freshman year of college but desperately craved for years.
“What the hell happened? I turned around and you were gone,” a new voice joined. “Jesus Christ, Kev, this wasn’t the plan, brother.”
Opening her eyes, she was surprised to see them outside.How’d we get here?She slowly felt the world returning to normal.
“I couldn’t just let her get….” Kevlar’s voice dropped off. “We’ll try again.”
The other man grunted. “I’m staying. You get her to the clubhouse and, for the love of the goddess, figure out what the fuck is going on with her. Macha can’t have you losing your head every time this girl is around.”
A door slammed—the bar door. She recognized the squeak and jazz music inside.
“Can you hold on to me?” Kevlar set her down on the back of a Harley.
“I don’t know, maybe.” She ran her fingers along the leather, the sensation bringing her back to reality. Her entire body ached, but she didn’t feel so helpless now. Her arms locked around his waist, her head clearing the longer she was in the fresh air. Whatever the Cutthroat had slipped in her drink wasn’t lasting long in her system. She couldn’t send enough prayers of gratitude heavenward.
He mumbled under his breath, and before she could ask him anything else, the bike rumbled beneath her, night air tickling her face. Nuzzling her nose against his back, she let the cold air on her face wake her from the drug’s stupor.
Chapter Eleven
Kevlar
It was a dumbass move.He knew the moment he stepped into the Rusty Cantina it’d be trouble. Nevertheless, he’d gone. His club needed him to investigate. He hadn’t expected to see Kita there dressed to kill. He couldn’t think about what would’ve happened if he didn’t show up.
Hours later, he watched her chest rise then fall, her pitch-black hair a stark contrast to his white pillowcase. He and Rubble arrived shortly before Nikita and her friend made an appearance. Both were knockouts, but Kita above all else in the room. She wore a mask, but he’d recognize her body anywhere. Shapely and too much shown for the sleazy Cutthroats to drool over.
He’d kept his distance, there for recon and not to engage. One beer in him, he saw Kita sneak away to the back of the room. He followed, mindful to keep a low profile. Both he and Rubble weren’t wearing Macha cuts, the goal to remain invisible. She set up camp next to Pillar’s booth. An odd choice, he’d initially thought. It became blatantly clear she was listening to the conversation the MC president was having with an unfamiliar man.
Hope had filled his body. She wasn’t a doll like she pretended. There was a purpose behind her madness. He just needed to figure out what it was.
