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1
Penny
My arm hurts where the guy three times my size, holds on to it. His fingers digging into my skin so harshly that I am sure I’ll be left with a beautiful array of blue and purple bruises. My legs can barely keep up with his pace as he drags me inside the loud biker bar.
Rock music blares through the speakers, making the inside of my ears vibrate. It’s dark, and the air is thick with smoke that makes my throat itch. It’s crowded, and all eyes are on me as the guy brings me to the back of the large room.
With my skinny jeans, white sneakers, and a pink sweater, I stick out like a sore thumb. Slung around my shoulder is a purple backpack that holds everything I own.
Most people here are men dressed in black, wearing heavy boots and a wicked expression on their faces. Every guy I see has their arms and necks covered in tattoos, some I find pretty, but most are appalling and offensive. Just like you would expect a bunch of bikers to look like.
There are a handful of women here; all of them are half-naked or completely naked. We pass a girl on her knees, sucking off a guy like it’s the most normal thing in the world. Two more girls are dancing naked on a table with guys groping their bodies. I try to look away, but it’s just impossible to ignore it. The music is not as loud back here, but the guy beside me still has to raise his voice.
“Boss, I found the bitch who owes you that money.”
A scary-looking man sitting at the table raises his head to look up at me, his expression showing only a vague interest in my presence. He is wearing a black T-shirt under a black leather vest that’s decorated with a bunch of patches. One patch readsThe Iron Sights. Almost every person in here has one of those on their vests and jackets.
Peeking out from under his clothes are tattoos and scars. The most noticeable scar is the one on his face. Running from his eyebrow down to his cheek. His eyes immediately roam up and down my body, and suddenly I feel exposed.
Until now, I expected them to beat me up since I can’t repay what I owe. The fact it didn’t occur to me they could do other things to my body makes me angry. I’m so screwed.
“Five grand, huh? I don’t suppose you have the money in that backpack of yours?”
My throat is currently home to a tennis ball-size lump, making it impossible to get a single word out. I shake my head and hold on to the strap of my backpack as if my life depends on it.
“You know what we do to people who don’t pay back our money?” He pauses, raising an eyebrow expectantly. Pretending he just asked me a rhetorical question, I wait for him to give me my sentencing.
When he tires of waiting, he continues, “We make an example out of them. Usually, that would entail a few broken bones and losing some teeth, but you’re in luck, pretty girl.” His lips tug up into an evil smile while his eyes gleam with lust. “I’m nice enough to let you work off your debt instead.”
I glance around the room and find half of the guys staring at me like I’m the perfectly cooked turkey presented on a Thanksgiving dinner table. My stomach makes a somersault, and for a second, I think I might puke.
“Well, look what the cat dragged in,” a familiar voice quiets the room. I look around, trying to locate the voice that has always made my skin crawl. I find him standing ten feet away from me. He is taller and more muscular than when I last saw him. A beard covers the lower half of his face, and from what I can see, tattoos conceal most of his body. His eyes are still the same piercing blue as I remembered. For a moment, I forget how to breathe.
“Ryder?” His name passes my lips as barely more than a whisper.
“You know this chick?” the guy who apparently holds my fate in his hands asks.
“Oh yeah,we go way back. Isn’t that right, little owl?”
Little owl.
He lived with my family for over a year, and not once did he call me by my name.Littleowl is actually one of the nicer pet names he had for me.
“How long has it been? Five years?” He takes a few steps toward me, and I want to take a few steps back. The guy behind me is built like a tank, making it impossible to get away.“I think I’ll take care of this one myself.”
“I’d rather you just beat me up and let me go,” I say, not joking one bit.
The entire bar erupts in laughter.
“Still a smart-ass, I see.” Ryder stalks up to me, grips my arm with bruising force, and drags me through the crowd and to a door beside the bar. The sign on the door says,Employees Only. Either he works here or doesn’t care.
We end up in a brightly lit hallway. As soon as we are alone, he pushes me against the wall with my cheek flat against the cold bricks. His mouth is right next to my ear when he whispers, “I almost didn’t recognize you without your glasses and fucked up front teeth.” His breath smells of cigarettes and booze. Both I am very familiar with. My body instantly stiffens, associating those smells with getting hurt. I close my eyes and wait for some kind ofpainto come next, but Ryder just holds me still.
“Don’t worry, you can work your debt off with me.” He runs his hand through my hair, catching a lock between his fingers. I wait for him to pull on it harshly, but he just keeps playing with it as if he is testing its softness. “You smell nice.”
He leans in even closer, his nose brushing against the skin on my throat.
“Are you scared, little owl?” I think I’m beyond scared. I have been scared for so long, sometimes it’s hard to tell what I’m feeling. “Answer me,” he growls into my ear, making me jump.
