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Chapter 4 – Sasha
He was going to kill me. The big, bad biker was gonna pull out a knife and slit my throat any second. I didn’t know what I did to piss him off, but the man was coiled tighter than a rattlesnake and twice as mean. He seemed on the verge of losing his shit which didn’t make any sense at all. The only thing I could thing of was to try to calm him down and plead for my release.
“Please don’t kill me,” I begged, tentatively placing my hands against the hard planes of his chiseled chest. “I don’t know what I’ve done, but –”
“Who the fuck are you?”
Blinking, I didn’t understand what he was asking or why he was so hostile. “Huh?”
“Who. Are. You.” The words were growled so low he sounded like a beast ready to rip apart his prey.
Trembling with fear, all I could think about was my own stupidity. I should have left Nevada when I had the chance. After the Scorpions and Suraya’s death, I never should have lingered on borrowed time. This was nothing more than the inevitable result of a long string of stupid and selfish choices.
“Your name.”
Daring to look into the cold, icy blue eyes of the man in front of me, I answered him truthfully. “Pratt. Sasha Pratt.”
He blanched, shaking his head slightly. “That’s impossible.”
Frowning, I tilted my head to the side. “You’ve heard of me?”
“Are you sure you want to insist on this? That’s really your last name?”
What the actual fuck? “Yes,” I replied with attitude.
As soon as I spoke, he slammed his hands into the walls, banging against the drywall with such ferocity and rage that I managed to duck out of his embrace and make a run for the door.
I didn’t get far.
Tackled to the ground, I ended up with my ass in the air and my right cheek pressed into the nasty, stained carpet while he pinned my arms behind my back. “Let me up!” I screamed, right cheek squashed and growing hot with my own ire.
Who the hell was this guy? Who did he think he was? Another biker who acted like everything and everyone was his personal property?
The big guy had straddled my hips and his grip tightened more with every second I struggled. Panting, I finally stopped and blew out a frustrated breath.
“That’s better.”
“Fuck you!”
“Not now, little hellfire. You wouldn’t like it that rough.”
My lip curled up in a snarl as I released a few curses. “Let me go!”
“Listen, you stop struggling and I’ll let you up but fight me and I’ll keep you exactly where you are as long as needed.”
Shit.
“Fine,” I relented.
A few seconds later I was hauled upward and forced to sit on the edge of the bed, rubbing the feeling back into my tender wrists. That man had a grip that was no joke. He was incredibly strong. I didn’t say anything but watched as he stood before me, a frown marring his handsome and rugged features while the intense but deceptively attractive color of his eyes watched me with something close to malice. He crossed his thick arms covered in black ink, thinking in silence for several minutes.
“We aren’t staying here.”
Huh? “I thought you said we needed to ride out this storm and stay off grid.”
“I did. That was before I found out who you are.”
“You believe me?” I asked, a little too hopeful. Maybe he was acting this way because he knew of my sister. He was certainly acting like it. The smug, arrogant biker was wearing a Royal Bastards MC leather jacket. He had to be familiar with Suraya. She knew the whole club. At least, that was what she told me once, months before she died.
