Chapter 4 Molly

We arrived at the same club I planned to attend with Embry. The irony wasn’t lost on me. Before tonight, I didn’t know about the exclusive back rooms and the elite clientele they serviced. Angel held my hand and led me through the crowd, winding his way to the back like he’d been here a hundred times and knew exactly where to go.

One man in a dark suit lowered his chin briefly in acknowledgment as we approached. Two big, burly bikers flanked him on the left and right. One wore a long brown beard, and the other had tattoos on his face and neck. I spotted the guns inside their leather vests. They didn’t bother to hide them.

“Everyone is gathered inside, Mr. Mackenzie.”

Angel gave a crisp nod. “No one disturbs us.”

“Understood.”

The grip around my hand tightened as we entered a long hall. Doors were shut on either side as we walked the length of it, but I could hear the sounds of slapping flesh, moans, and cries of pleasure.

But there was one room where a woman pleaded for someone to stop. I jolted when I heard a slap followed by a whimper.

Angel’s low laugh followed as he led me to the door at the end, twisted the knob, and led me inside.

I didn’t know what I expected, but it wasn’t this. Cold fear sent a blast of ice down my spine, and I stiffened. He’s really going to sell me.

Angel dragged me across the empty room, shoving me to an old couch. I nearly tripped over my feet as I fell onto the seat.

“Sit. I’ll return for you when we’re ready.”

He left me, exiting through the only other door in the room. Outside the one we entered, I heard a thud. Something scraped against it, and I knew Angel had ordered one of the bikers to stop me if I tried to leave.

The room was tiny. Only a worn red couch, a table with an ashtray, a crooked mirror, and a rack of outfits that included lace, latex, tiny skirts and tops, and lingerie filled the space.

There were no windows. No way to escape.

I launched to my feet and opened my purse, reaching into the interior for my phone. They didn’t search me or take my bag, which seemed amateur, but I was glad about it. I had no idea when Angel would return, but I needed to call for help. I should have dialed 9-1-1 first, but I didn’t. All I could think about was Slash. He was a biker. His club had to know about the Bladed Serpents MC. What would the cops be able to do if those bikers started shooting up the place? Could they keep me safe? Rescue me from ruthless traffickers like Angel? I didn’t know.

It was too risky.

I had never been so thankful in my life for anything as I was at this moment for Embry giving me Slash’s number. With shaky fingers, I slid open my phone and tapped on his name. The call dialed as I held it next to my ear.

My heart hammered so hard in my chest that I fought to inhale and exhale, my chest rising and falling much too quickly. My vision grew black around the edges as I slumped to the seat of the couch. No answer. A voicemail popped up, and I decided to leave a message. There was no way to know if he would reach it in time.

“Slash, it’s Molly.” I swallowed as my voice cracked. “I’m in trouble, and I need your help.”

I heard voices in the hall and worried someone was about to enter the room.

“I don’t know what to do. Some guy named Angel Mackenzie brought me to After Hours. I’m in the back. He’s locked me in a room, and there are bikers here. I saw a sword and a snake on their backs. I—I think,” I stuttered, “I think Angel wants to —”—my voice faltered—“—sell me.”

Tears clogged my throat, and I couldn’t continue. I had to suck air into my lungs and wait a few precious seconds before I could speak again.

“Fred let them take me. I don’t know why. Please,” I begged, “Help me.”

The doorknob rattled while I ended the call and backed away as the door swung open. Heavy boots thumped across the floor as the biker—who stood guard before we entered the hall with dark, greasy hair and a long beard—entered.

I scrambled away from him, still clutching my phone in my hand.

The biker roared as he snatched my wrist and hauled me against his chest. I smacked into his body as he lifted a hand and cracked his palm across my cheek. I cried out and tried to twist out of his grasp as my head pounded and my face stung from the pain.

“Who did you call, bitch?” He grabbed my shoulders and shook me. “Fucking answer me!”

“I tried 9-1-1, but it wouldn’t go through,” I lied. “I think the connection is bad in here.”

Angel stormed inside and snatched the phone, tossing it onto the floor before he stomped on it. Nothing happened.

The biker smirked and lifted his boot, crunching it underneath the sole as the device shattered into numerous pieces.

Angel grabbed me by the throat and slammed me into the nearest wall. His thumb pressed hard on my windpipe as I flailed. Stars exploded into my vision as my airway was cut off, and I couldn’t breathe. No air entered my lungs or left them. I panicked as my fingers clawed at his wrist.

Help!

A disgusted sneer twisted his lips. “I told you to stay put. If you fuck up this auction, I will drag you into one of these rooms and let Tiny fuck your ass raw.”

The big biker with the beard grinned. “Why not now?”

Angel glared at him. “We need to move forward with the auction and sell off the merchandise. Wanna explain to your pres why you came back empty-handed?”

Tiny scowled. “No.”

Angel released me right as my knees buckled. I dragged air into my lungs, choking as I fell to the dirty floor. “Pick her up. It’s time.”

Tiny hauled me to my feet and gripped my upper arm, dragging me from the room. We left through the door opposite the hall, winding around a long conference table and chairs to another room. Noises from inside reached us as I trembled. Shouting. Laughter. Metal music turned low enough to hear the rumble of male voices.

Angel opened the door, gesturing for Tiny to enter first.

I lifted my chin high as my feet crossed the threshold into hell.

GUNNER SANK BESIDEme on a stool, pushing a beer toward me. “You look like you got shit on your mind.”

I accepted the beer and popped the top, taking a long swig before I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand. “Yeah,” I grunted, thinking of Molly and her fucking abusive stepdad. But the shit we discussed in church was also on my mind. Neither was good news.

I’d known Gunner since I was a kid. He founded the Feral Rebels with our pres, Hades. My uncle was tight with his brothers, and whenever I visited Ohio, which was often, especially in the summer, I hung out with Hades, Gunner, and Grave. They didn’t put up with any shit but helped raise me into the man I’d become.

Gunner ticked his chin at me. “Start talkin’. I ain’t ridin’ with your grumpy fucking ass back to Ohio until you do.”

I glared at the man I considered my closest friend and opened my mouth to contradict him, but he leaned back against the bar and folded his arms across his chest. His scowl followed.

“This shit with the Bladed Serpents isn’t sitting right,” I began. “It doesn’t make sense to start shit with the Vegas chapter. They know how well-connected the Feral Rebels are and how many charters we’ve got. It’s fucking risky to come at us like that and not expect retaliation.”

The Serpents were pushing into our territory and sellin’ on FRMC turf. That was the first issue. The majority of the problem focused on the meth and the shit they tainted it with, resulting in increased overdoses and deaths.

Hospitals saw a rise in ER visits. There were too many calls to 9-1-1, with tweakers experiencing hallucinations, confusion, and raging emotions. They teetered on the edge of insanity, and that spilled over when they turned violent and psychotic. Crime escalated in Vegas and the surrounding suburbs.

The LVPD and the health department got involved after the news media wouldn’t let up about the story. Now, we had the law breathing down our necks, stopping our members on the road, and being a fucking nuisance even though we didn’t push that shit. The FRMC didn’t earn through drug money.

“Yeah, but that ain’t what’s eatin’ at ya.”

“No,” I growled, “it’s not.”

A hand curled over my shoulder and slid down my arm, resting on my bicep. “Hey, Slash.”

I turned my head, catching the overdyed blond hair, fate tits, and the jewel glistening in Pinky’s navel. There was a time when the sight would make my cock jump to attention, but that shit no longer enticed me. I didn’t want anything to do with club whores or the hangers-on that hung around here.

I grasped Pinky’s wrist and shoved it away. “Don’t fucking touch me.”

She blinked, fluttering her lashes. “I could help ease that tension you’ve got.”

Gunner chuckled.

I narrowed my eyes. “Get lost.”

Pinky winked at me before she spun on her heel, heading down the line of men on stools at the bar to drink. One of my brothers would take her up on her offer, and I wasn’t surprised when she lowered to her knees and began sucking off the enforcer for the Las Vegas chapter, Ironwill.

I thought of Molly again, and my cock hardened. Christ. Why the hell did I want the one woman I shouldn’t touch?

Gunner chuckled as he smacked the top of the bar. “It’s a woman.”

“What?” I asked, picking up my beer and finishing it off.

“Your problem,” he laughed.

“Molly.” I told Gunner about her after we met last summer. I tried for a fucking year to forget about her. It didn’t work. She seemed to sink deeper under my skin with the absence. After seeing her today and that bruise on her face, I felt a surge of protectiveness rise inside me.

Usually, that would be a good thing. With her? No.

When I became possessive and protective of someone, it ended badly. I wasn’t the type of guy that let go easily, and because of the shit in my past, I held on too fucking tight. I could already see how this would play out. Once I sank between Molly’s thighs, I’d want her to be mine. That was dangerous for her and the club because anything threatening her threatened me. Anyone who disrespected her disrespected me.

And that shit riled me up faster than the whore, Pinky, swallowing Ironwill’s load. Nobody wanted me to get riled up and lose control. It got bloody fast.

Gunner’s expression sobered. “What’s got you so twisted? Her age?”

“She’s seventeen. I’m thirty.”

Gunner shrugged. “Age is just a number.”

He was a fucking hypocrite. I knew that shit bothered him too. I’d caught the look of disgust on his face when new girls came in with the club whores and took a biker to bed, many of them barely legal. Underage pussy was forbidden by Hades in our chapter, but the president of the Vegas charter, Vulture, wasn’t as strict.

“She’s not had a chance to live life yet. Seems selfish of me to snatch her up and make her an ol’ lady this young.”

He blinked as his arms dropped, and he stared at me with surprise. “You’re serious about her.”

“I am,” I admitted, scrubbing my hand down my face and over my short beard. “Fuck.”

My phone vibrated inside my cut, and I reached for it, checking the screen. I had a missed call from Molly.

Shit. I didn’t know she had my number. Embry must have given it to her. Not that I cared.

It bothered me that I missed her call. It was loud in the bar, and I’d been distracted by my conversation with Gunner. A sigh escaped my lips as I tapped on my voicemail and played her message.

“Slash, it’s Molly.”

I knew something was wrong as soon as I heard her voice.

“I’m in trouble, and I need your help.”

My back snapped straight, and every muscle in my body tensed. If Fred put a finger on her, I’d slash his fucking neck.

“I don’t know what to do. Some guy named Angel Mackenzie brought me to After Hours. I’m in the back. He’s locked me in a room, and there are bikers here. I saw a sword and a snake on their backs. I—I think,” she stammered, “I think Angel wants to —”—her voice faltered—“—sell me.”

“Motherfucker!” I yelled, rising from my seat and rushing toward the exit. My heart squeezed inside my chest like a fist had wrapped around it.

No, baby. They won’t get the chance to fucking sell you.

“Fred let them take me. I don’t know why. Please,” she begged, “Help me.”

The call ended abruptly after a tiny click.

I roared into the night as I threw a leg over my seat, fired up my best girl, and shoved my cell back into the pocket inside my cut. I had to drag air into my lungs because I was fucking close to losing my shit and if I let that part of me out, I didn’t know if I could force the monster back into his cage.

Two motorcycles rumbled to life beside me. Gunner on my left. Havoc, the youngest of our trio, who I hadn’t seen since church ended, was on my right. His chin ticked my way as I caught his sharp gaze.

My brothers had my back without me having to say a fucking word. That was loyalty.

Without further delay, I pulled back on the throttle and shot forward, hell-bent on saving Molly and letting the beast inside me free. Fuck it. Angel Mackenzie, whoever the motherfucker was, and the Bladed Serpents fucked up.

Now, I was fucking riled.