Ruthless (Dark MC Romance) Page 4

  Her beauty was only slightly marred by the red mark burning on her face. I wanted to touch her. She was like a beautiful painting that I wanted to run my fingers over to feel all of its contours and study each color. I could do it. I raised my finger and stroked the red mark on her face—she didn’t even flinch. The kidnapping probably traumatized her. Maybe that explained her unnatural demeanor.

  Her hip bumped into me and her fingers slightly stroked my thigh.

  “Isn’t there a way we could settle this?”

  The suggestion in her voice made me smirk and I finally saw the fear stirring in her eyes. “What, you mean like you fuck me and I’ll let you go?”

  “I—I meant—”

  “You’re mine and I’m allowed to do whatever the fuck I want to you before Crash decides to kill you. I can fuck you whenever I want.”

  My hand shot out and grabbed her wrist when she backed away, finally giving in to some of her fear. And I was so close to giving in to the strange desire that leapt inside me. I wanted to fuck her on the floor where I dispatched so many of my playthings and I wanted her screams echoing around me. Her skinny wrist twisted inside my hand.

  “Let me go! Where’s Ace?”

  Did she already forget that he was dead?

  I love her spirit. I held her against me, smiling as she cringed from my touch. “Oh, I suspect you’ll see him before long.”

  “Fuck you.”

  I shoved her hard when her knee shot up, aiming for my groin, and she sprawled to the ground. She looked up at me under her hair with a look of hatred that interested me. Even though she knew she was going to die, she hadn’t gone berserk. How interesting.

  “If you’re going to kill me, just do it.”

  I stooped down slightly to grab the duffel bag. “Where’s the fun in that? No, Julia…I like to take my time.”

  She flinched as I unzipped the bag. I watched her round eyes stare at the bag, perhaps wondering what sort of medieval torture devices were inside. All I took out were handcuffs and large pieces of foam, a blindfold, and noise-canceling headphones. I smiled at the confusion on her face. She didn’t realize that when combined, these innocent-looking objects would create the worst hell she ever experienced.

  “Get on the bed.”

  Julia hesitated before walking to the bed and sitting on the mattress. She sat like a trained bird as I approached her with the handcuffs, her heart beating so fast I could see the vein jumping in her neck. I gently fastened the handcuffs to her wrists and pinned them over her head. She was so compliant that I rewarded her by stroking her hair. I used to do this to the animals I tortured to make it better. I would pet them as they howled and screamed in pain. Julia’s wet, blue eyes slid over to mine.

  After I handcuffed her feet to the posts, I began wrapping her hands and feet with the foam. It was so she would be completely sensory deprived. Without light, sound, and touch, her mental state would deteriorate. Rapidly.

  It was then that I noticed a small diamond ring on her left finger. I twisted it off. Julia moaned in protest as I held it in front of her terrified face.

  “Do you belong to another man?”

  “You bastards killed him. You killed my husband.”

  “No, Julia. You killed him.”

  The ring fell to the floor with a tiny ping and I let it roll away from her until it stopped on the edge of the drain in the middle of the room. I kicked it inside the drain and it tumbled down.

  “Fuck you!”

  I swept to her supine body and wrapped my hand around her jaw. I squeezed hard until I heard a squeak of pain.

  “I do not tolerate disrespect, Julia. You are mine, now. You’ll do exactly as I say. You may have belonged to another man in the past, but he is dead.”

  Releasing her jaw, I looked towards my feet, at the headphones and blindfold. Julia trembled as she tugged hopelessly at her restraints. Her body was spread out in front of me and I couldn’t help but admire the way her tits sat on her chest and her golden hair splayed over the mattress. She jerked violently when I laid my hand on her stomach and it swelled up and down. I smoothed my hand over her body soothingly. Underneath her ruined blouse was a lean abdomen. My fingers paused at the button on her blouse.

  I’ve never wanted to fuck someone so badly in my life. Part of me wanted to savor this feeling. I swept my hand up her body, over her ribcage and just under the swell of her breast. I squeezed her, dying to slip my hand under her bra to feel her naked flesh in my hand. Marveling at the desire heating my balls, I pulled away with great difficulty, seized by a strange desire to thread my fingers through her hair and kiss her open mouth.

  I want her. She’s going to be hard to give up.

  Perhaps I could persuade Crash to keep her around for a few more days. I grabbed the blindfold and slipped it over her eyes.

  “The CIA calls this, ‘white torture.’ It turns out that you don’t need thumbscrews or knives to drive someone completely insane.”

  “Is that what you plan to do to me?”

  Her voice was too calm. I frowned. “I am going to break you. You’ll never be the same again.”

  She said nothing. I could feel the doubt emanating from her. She didn’t think it was going to be a big deal. I wanted to laugh.

  After a couple days of this, you’ll be begging for me. All I’ll have to do is point and you’ll suck my cock.

  “So you like to destroy people?”

  I didn’t like the judgment in her voice. “I like to manipulate people into what I want them to be. It makes my dick hard.” I stared right back where I imagined the two angry blue eyes were. “Sweet dreams, Julia.”

  “What are you—wait!”

  I slipped the noise-canceling headphones over her head. She wouldn’t even be able to hear the sound of her screaming. She was blind, deaf, and unable to feel anything. I switched off the light as she struggled in the restraints and left the room. I climbed the stairs and blew a frustrated sigh. What’s wrong with me today?

  Meeting my new toy made me a lot more agitated than usual. There was excitement, yes, but also frustration. I thought I would fuck the first club whore I saw, but unfortunately Crash slid off his stool and made a beeline for me.

  “Cain, I don’t want you to mess with her for too long. You can have a couple days to play with her, but that’s it.”

  “I need more than a couple days.” No, you just want more. “Plus, I really want to fuck her.”

  He groaned as if he knew this would happen. “Of course you want to fuck her. But don’t let her get under your skin, or you’ll be like Ace and you’ll be eating out of her hand.”

  The idea that I could be manipulated by the girl I was trying to break made me laugh out loud. “I just want to fuck her. It’s not complicated.”

  Crash appraised me for a moment and grinned, clapping my upper back. “All right.”

  He turned back to the bar and poured a couple shots of whiskey. He gave me the tiny, amber glass and I immediately downed it. The whiskey went down my throat like a sweet flame.

  “I’m going to go for a ride.”

  The road called to me like a Siren’s song. There was nothing like the growl of a motorcycle and the wind whipping through my leather jacket. I liked to take rides through our territory to remind people about our presence. With a shotgun strapped to my bike, surrounded by a team of other ravenous beasts, I was fucking invincible. Every time I went out there, I prayed that we would find Tigers, our rival MC in Victoria. They were easy pickings the few times they braved through our territory, but those opportunities were becoming less and less. I was getting bored.

  A few years ago the war between the Dragons and Tigers was at its peak. I earned my name by slicing off Tiger heads and sticking them crudely on their bikes for cops to find. I tagged every scene with our insignia. Crash loved it. After those little displays, our protection money was always paid on time and our gun shipments always prompt. It terrified the people of Victoria and I found myself never
having to pay for a meal in a restaurant again.

  I haven’t done anything like that in a while, though. Still, people didn’t forget.

  Now and again, the Dragons needed to send a message to keep other clubs from fucking around with us. It worked. Too well. I wanted us to start jacking territory from the Tigers.

  Hit them while they’re weak.

  Crash was vehemently opposed to the idea. He said he was looking out for the club’s best interest. We—I needed to stop provoking them.

  My lip curled as I left the club, ignoring Crash’s worried face. I stepped out into the warm sunshine and saw Spike leaned against the post near the bikes, looking bored as fuck.

  Let’s see what you’ve got.

  “Spike, are you in the mood to hunt down Tigers?”

  His lanky body pushed off the post as he lazily threw down his cigarette and dug it into the dust with his boot. “You know me too well.” He practically bounced to his bike and climbed on it, a ravenous look on his face.

  Spike was just filled with so much life. It fascinated me. My moods were like a straight line. Everything was shallow and I struggled to feel the slightest blip.

  Except for her. I thought for a moment about the blonde beauty tied up in the basement and salivated. Spike leaned over and thumped me on the back, grinning.

  The motorcycles roared into life and it was almost like a live animal. Its energy flowed into me, shaking up my legs. We sped out of the club side by side, leaving a trail of dust. It was usually best to leave with more members, but things had been so quiet lately that I rarely bothered.

  We sped into town, Spike blowing through red lights and jeering at me as his bike screamed past. Crazy bastard. I kicked the clutch and sped after him, weaving through cars. Spike’s curly, dark hair fluttered in the wind I looked to my side.

  “You trying to get yourself killed?”

  “Don’t be a killjoy! I just like the speed.” He gave me a wicked grin and gunned his bike.

  I followed him through Victoria’s quiet, boring streets. Where the hell is mayhem when you’re looking for it?

  Spike grimaced at the stop light and disappointment snapped inside me like a taut wire.

  “Let’s go into Tiger territory.”

  “That’s what I’m talking about!”

  My boredom was making me reckless. We charged through another light and passed Ralph’s gas station on the north side of town, where our territory ended. Our red colors weren’t welcome here; white tigers were spray painted on brick buildings, or a simple swath of white paint. I let Spike roar ahead of me, allowing him to lead us into the seedier streets of northern Victoria.

  Maybe it will take the edge off of cleaning shit all day.

  Spike whooped with delight as he made a quick, right turn and he gunned his motor. I grinned as I swept the corner, cutting in front of a car, whose furious honks stifled as he recognized the colors on my bike.

  Two little Tigers.

  Two bikes roared up the streets with Spike in hot pursuit, screaming like a madman. I throttled my bike to catch up and picked up my shotgun, laying it across the handlebars. Spike rode beside me, aiming his own handgun at the Tigers. Aiming carefully, I waited until there was a stretch and then pulled the trigger.

  The blast took him squarely in the back and he slumped over the side, red blossoming his white shirt like a flower. The bike careened to its side and the other Tiger’s bike smashed into it. A box of vials attached to the bike crashed into the ground and spilled over the road. The man screamed as he flew from his bike and tumbled on the asphalt. We halted our bikes and I held out my hand to keep Spike from shooting the man.

  Spike grimaced as the man screamed and rolled over, revealing bright red strips where the road peeled away his flesh.

  “Ouch, that’s gotta hurt,” he said in a lilting voice.

  Maybe he was too much of a joker.

  “Spike, watch him,” I barked.

  He gave me a quick, serious nod and I picked up the box of vials, which were filled with a red-tinged liquid. Several shattered on the ground, their contents rapidly evaporating in the sun. I never saw anything like them before. I peered at them closely and saw bloody eyes printed on the glass.

  The Tiger blanched as he saw me carry the box of vials. He sat up and glanced warily at the nozzle of the gun pointed in his face by Spike.

  “What the hell is this?” I said coolly, staring into his anxious face.

  “Medicine,” he said too quickly.

  “Oh? For what?”

  He froze like a scared deer and I gave Spike the slightest nod. The pistol Spike held whipped across the tiger’s face, shattering his nose. Blood sprayed from his face as he clutched what remained of his nose.

  “You fucking bastards.” The sudden click of Spike’s gun made his eyes widen. “No—wait! It’s a new drug—Red. One vial sells for seven hundred bucks.”

  Spike and I exchanged a look. “If it’s so popular, why haven’t I heard about it?”

  He doubled over as dark blood streamed from his nose and lifted his shoulders in a shrug.

  “Let’s take this back to Crash.”

  “All right, boss.” Spike inclined his head towards the Tiger. “What should we do about him?”

  I handed the box to Spike and he holstered his gun to carry it. I looked down at the animal crouched on the baking cement. His eyes darted to his dead comrade, who lay facedown in a thickening pool of his own blood. I scanned the patch on his chest. He was just a member. I lifted my shotgun and rested it against his temple.

  “Do you know who I am?”

  He shook his head.

  “Go back to your club and tell your President that Cain sent you.” Spike gave me a sharp look that I ignored. “Go!”

  The Tiger scurried to his feet and scrambled back on his heavily scratched bike. He gave me a terrified look before he started the motorcycle and peeled off.

  “Well,” Spike began in a dry voice. “It’s the middle of broad daylight and there’s a body lying in the street.”

  I shrugged my indifference. “Just leave it. Half the cops in this city are in our pocket, anyway.” Across the street was a bar with a closed sign. “I’m thirsty.”

  Spike laughed off his nerves and crossed the street with me. Using the butt of the shotgun, I shattered the window and broke off all the sharp edges before climbing inside.

  Spike followed me through without a word. I’m starting to like this guy. He really goes with the flow.

  Inside was a grimy dive bar with badly chipped glass mugs and floors that looked like they had years of stains. I walked behind the bar and grabbed two glasses, pouring whiskey for us both.

  “That should get their attention.” Spike shook out a cigarette from his pack and promptly lit it. He took the glass I offered him. “Are you trying to start a war?”

  I smiled behind my glass. “This whole city could be ours. We have the manpower and the resources. We should strike now while they’re weak.” But Crash doesn’t want that. I frowned.

  “Well, I’m for anything that gets me out of housework.” He winked at me as he took a drag from his cigarette.

  I pried open the cash register, but there was nothing but petty change. However, underneath was a 12-gauge shotgun, which I grabbed and tossed to Spike. He caught it deftly.

  “Bit of a thief aren’t you?” he grinned, the cigarette rolling between his teeth.

  “I’ve never really understood ownership.”

  He nodded towards the box of vials. “What do you suppose this shit is? A stimulant?”

  “Maybe you should try it—see what it’s like.”

  “Nah, I don’t do drugs.”

  I do. Not too much, because I couldn’t stand being addicted to anything.

  Losing control was not something I ever wanted to happen to myself, but I savored the heightened emotions they gave me. I fingered a vial in one hand and debated whether I should test the drug on the girl I locked up in the basement
.

  “Let’s take this shit to Crash. If it’s really worth that much money, Dragons should stake their place in this business.”

  “Aye, aye, captain.” He threw back his head and downed the glass of whiskey.

  My limbs buzzing from the alcohol, I grabbed the bottle of whiskey and headed back outside, where there was a cluster of half-horrified, half-elated people surrounding the dead gangster. When they saw me duck under the broken window with the shotgun resting on my shoulder, they scattered like roaches.

  * * *

  Crash fingered the vials of Red as Spike leaned against the counter and eyed the club whore bending over the pool table. Technically, he was supposed to be outside.

  The President looked unimpressed. “I’ve heard of this. It fetches for a pretty good price.”

  “Then why aren’t we distributing? If we let the Tigers control this market—”

  “I don’t care!” He ground his cigar into the ashtray and my nose stung at the smell.

  He slid off the stool and stood very close to me, close enough so that I could count the scars on his lined face. I had to bury my smile. Didn’t he know that intimidation didn’t work on me? The nuns at Christ’s Cross tried beating me into submission. All it succeeded in doing was make me better at hiding my crimes. I knew that Crash could slice and dice me if he wanted, and that was why I respected him.

  “I don’t want the club dealing in drugs. It gets us too much time in prison.”

  Crash’s brown eyes met mine and I wondered if there was weakness in them that I couldn’t see. “I disagree. We need to control the market or our grip over Victoria will weaken.”

  Another look crossed over his face, reminding me of the times adults would visit my orphanage and peer at me. It was like he pitied me. “Cain, you can’t control everything. You’ll learn that when you become President. I’m sending the club in a better direction, one that keeps us all safe.”

  I didn’t really give a shit about safe. That’s not why I joined the club, and I’m pretty sure that’s not why Spike joined it either.