Chapter 5 Molly

Tiny shoved my back, and I nearly tripped. I righted myself as I woodenly walked toward a line of girls standing to the left of a stage. The raised dais seemed to be the focal point of the room, with tables spread around it. Men hollered, slapped the surface of the tables, stomped, and clapped for the girls being paraded in front of them.

I gasped when I saw the stripper pole in the center of the stage and how each girl was forced to dance for the rowdy crowd of bikers while they groped and pawed at the ones too scared to move. Clothes were ripped off. Some of them ended up naked, trying to shield their bodies. It didn’t help.

I saw a girl picked up and slung over a biker’s shoulder. He was one of the biggest in the room. Nobody said a word as he marched her toward an empty table in a corner, put her on her back, spread her legs wide, and unzipped his pants. She wailed as he rammed his cock inside her, brutally taking what he wanted with his bare ass toward the wall, thrusting hard and fast as he watched for anyone to stop him.

Not a soul intervened.

A few others decided the wait was too much and grabbed girls, intent on slating their lust, when a gun fired toward the ceiling. Plaster fell to the floor as the metal music shut off.

The girls were released and shoved toward the stage. I shuddered, relieved this would stop.

Angel lifted his lip in a snarl. “You want to fuck, you pay for it. These girls aren’t club whores. They’re my fucking merchandise.” He turned to the big biker still stroking in and out of the girl in the corner. “You. Five thousand. I want to be paid as soon as you finish.”

The biker nodded, grunting as he came, pumping a few more times before he pulled out, picked up the girl, and flipped her onto her stomach. His dick was still hard as he entered her again, grabbing her hips as he fucked her in front of the room.

Horror and terror equally seized my body as I joined the line and took the last spot. They’re raping these women and not even fazed by it. Oh, God.

I was wrong. This wasn’t ending. Each girl would be subjected to barbaric acts as soon as she was bought and paid for. Nausea churned in my stomach, and I had to force myself not to puke. Slash. Help me.

The noise had been defeaning in the room before now, but it was quiet except for the slapping of flesh. The big biker didn’t seem to run out of stamina. I heard him grunting and smacking the girl’s ass, rutting into her as he told her how tight her cunt was and how he would take her ass next.

My head felt fuzzy, and I forced myself to stop listening to what happened to the poor girl. I couldn’t help her. Fear kept me imprisoned in the spot where I stood. Drawing attention to myself would only give me a similar experience.

There had to be fifty men in this room, clearly set up for unsavory business like this auction. They called out obscene names and sexual acts, getting off on terrorizing and embarrassing each of us. Their lecherous gazes dissected every woman, falling on me as I was the last to step on the stage.

Over the last few minutes, anger and disgust had taken over my fear. I was pissed, ready to fight to the death.

None of these assholes would take me into a corner and use me like that. No fucking way.

I had tuned out the auctions up until now, probably to keep my mind from splintering or the horror to reduce me to a crying mess on the ground, begging for mercy from men who didn’t understand or care about the definition.

The stripper pole had been forgotten as I walked beyond it to the side, refusing to stand near it, but I didn’t have time to feel glad or relieved. Rage for the way we’d all been manhandled since we walked into this room consumed me. I lifted my chin, facing the men in the crowd with defiance. My hands fisted at my sides, and I could tell they knew I wouldn’t accept any of them without a bloody fight.

Some of the bikers laughed, some whistled or grinned, and a few pushed their way to the stage to get a better look at me.

Angel stood beside me, lifting a strand of my hair. “Red highlights, but below, she’s a natural brunette.”

The asshole didn’t know. What a liar.

“You sample her yet?” One of the bikers shouted from the back of the group.

Angel smirked. “Not yet.”

Laughter erupted, followed by more questions.

“Is she a virgin?”

“Has she worked the stage before?”

“How much to share her with Scourge?”

A grunt came from the corner. “I’ll share this one. She’s getting stretched out all night. Whoever wants her next, it’s a hundred for thirty minutes.”

Jesus. They talked about pimping her out like she wasn’t a person, just an object.

“I’ll take you up on it,” one of them announced, leaving the crowd to slap money in Scourge’s hand.

Scourge pulled out of the girl as she stared at the wall. No expression. No reaction. Oh, please, God. Help her.

The new biker took his place, stroking himself a few times before he entered her, thrusting hard as her body rocked against the table.

Scourge tucked his semi-erect dick into his pants and approached the stage, staring at me. “I like the ones that fight back. How much for this one, Angel?”

I didn’t react to his question.

“Bidding starts at twenty thousand.”

A few bikers shook their heads and backed away, forming a line behind the biker thrusting into the girl in the corner.

This nightmare seemed neverending. Tears stung the back of my eyelids, but I wouldn’t show weakness or cry. The wolves would descend and tear me to pieces. My strength had to prevail.

Where are you, Slash? Please check your messages.

What if he didn’t? What if he was balls-deep in some girl?

I shook that thought from my head. No. Slash wasn’t like that. Innocent? No, I knew better. But he wasn’t like these bikers at all. The Bladed Serpents were animals. Slash cared about me.

“Twenty thousand,” Scourge answered.

“Twenty-one,” a guy with sandy blond hair bid next.

“Twenty-three.”

The bids kept coming as the price rose. I wondered how these men could afford to bid on me with such high amounts. And then it struck me that these bikers didn’t work regular jobs, clocking in at nine and out at five. Nothing they participated in could be legal. Drugs, money laundering, trafficking—these were only a few ways the Bladed Serpents probably earned the cash they spent. Maybe they robbed people, too. Who knew?

It wasn’t like I was dealing with honorable citizens.

My gaze swept over the girls being hauled away with their new owners, thankful Embry wasn’t among them. I winced as I heard more cries and knew the girl in the corner wasn’t the only one being assaulted. My lower lip trembled, and I sucked it into my mouth, desperate not to break down.

Slash isn’t coming.

Just as the last ounce of hope I possessed began to fade, I heard a deep voice rumble a bid.

“Fifty thousand.”

My gaze cut to the left, landing on Slash. Thank God!

Wait. Did he just bid on me too!?

Angel stiffened beside me.

Two bikers wearing the Feral Rebels MC emblem on their leather vests appeared. A big, bald guy with a salt and pepper beard spotted the young woman being raped and lifted his weapon, firing off several bullets. My body jolted with each pull on the trigger. Thuds and screams followed. The girls scattered.

The second biker with Slash, much younger with a cocky grin, aimed two guns at the crowd. “Give me a reason. I live for this shit.”

None of the Bladed Serpents moved.

Shocked that they didn’t try to overpower Slash or his MC brothers, I stared at the man who showed up to rescue me. My heart leaped into my throat when his gaze slid over me, taking in my club outfit, and his lips curled into a grin.

“Step away from my ol’ lady.”

A gasp left my throat. What?

“THIS THE CLUB?” HAVOCasked as we parked our bikes toward the back entrance.

I had a feeling we’d be leaving in a hurry once we entered and handled shit with the Bladed Serpents and Angel Mackenzie. I needed to know more about that shady motherfucker and his trafficking business. There’s no way he worked alone. It would have to wait until Molly was safe.

We weaved through the crowded club, quickly finding the bouncers blocking our way to a secluded hall with black doors. A man in a dark suit stood between two Bladed Serpents. I could see the guns within reach.

They didn’t move or perceive us as a threat—poor choice.

“No entrance.”

“I can pay,” I growled, feeling anxious now that we were inside, close enough to hear the commotion coming from a back room, only slightly louder than the thumping music from the DJ. If Molly was hurt, they’d all fucking die.

“No. Boss says it’s a private party.”

I bet. Without hesitation, I pulled my knife and stabbed into the man’s gullet, ripping my blade through his flesh. Hot blood coated my hand as I pushed him back into the shadows.

A strangled cry left his mouth seconds before my steel sliced across his neck, and the coppery tang of blood invaded my senses. I’d done it so quickly that none of the crowd noticed in the dark club with strobing lights too erratic to reveal the carnage. Gunner and Havoc had taken care of the two Serpents MC members with equal ease and efficiency. We managed to hide the bodies in a closet in the hall, noting all the doors were shut.

I didn’t check the ones to the left and right, rushing toward the ruckus I could hear beyond the farthest door.

“Quiet or chaos?” Havoc asked with a grin.

“Quiet. We see what’s going on first.”

Two nods followed.

I turned the knob and entered the room, stunned to find a stage in the center with an abandoned stripper pole. The large area was overrun with Bladed Serpents cuts, but the shocking, horrifying vision of men forcing themselves on women shook the beast loose in my head. I growled as I turned to the stage, finding a vision of beauty and rage. Molly.

Havoc snarled, reaching for his dual pistols.

Gunner pulled out his weapon, hissing as his gaze swept over the room.

Men bid on my sweet Molly as she glared at the crowd, refusing to cower in fear. Wow. To show courage in such a dire circumstance proved that she wasn’t weak-willed or too soft to be a biker’s ol’ lady. She was fucking perfect. Young? Sure. But that didn’t mean shit when your soul had that kind of fire.

Her lightly flushed skin and big eyes the color of moss with her ire drew my gaze, pulling it from the glossy pink pillows of her soft lips. God. She was fucking gorgeous. A long-legged, full-breasted woman with all the luscious curves made to fit against a man’s harder, muscled body.

And to top it off, she was intelligent, sweet, and artistic.

“Fifty thousand,” I growled at the man on stage as Gunner and Havoc spread out beside me.

Havoc grinned at the sudden silence as Serpents turned to face us. He fucking loved chaos. Thrived on it. He’d take a pound of flesh for this shit, and I would let him.

Gunner flinched at the men holding several women around the room, firing his gun without hesitation. He put a bullet in every rapist’s head before they could move, exacting swift justice.

Girls screamed as they shoved away their attackers.

A few cried out as they left the room. The others scattered, and no one stopped them. I dared any of these motherfuckers to try.

My gaze focused on the man in the dark suit who stood next to Molly. “Who the fuck are you?”

He stared back. No reaction. His expression was unreadable. “Angel Mackenzie.”

“Step away from my ol’ lady.”

Molly gasped, probably surprised I said those words. I’d explain later, right after I told her I planned to claim her, which was happening as soon as she turned eighteen. Until then, she was mine to protect. We’d have plenty of fun in the interim. But right now, all that mattered was that I made my point. She was mine. Do. Not. Touch. Asshole.

Angel’s brows lifted in a brief flash of surprise.

“You know who I am?” I asked, palming my blade with my bloodstained hand. The other held my gun, holding a steady aim as he moved a few steps toward the end of the stage.

Angel’s gaze flicked over the dried blood, sweeping across the patches on my cut. “Ah, you must be Grave’s nephew, Slash.”

A few of the Bladed Serpents backed away. Our club had a reputation for dealing out merciless retribution, but my skill with a blade and the rumors of flayed bodies left behind me sent a ripple of fear through the crowd.

Some didn’t easily scare. I could respect that if they weren’t selling women and fucking assaulting them. Did it matter? No. I’d rip them apart with my blade and let her sing with every slice and stab. Either way, every fucker in this room would die.

“I am,” I replied. “Here’s what’s going to happen. You’re going to stay where you are while Molly walks to me. No one fucking so much as twitches until she reaches my side. Then we’ll have a chat about the rest of this shit show.”

Angel smiled, but it didn’t reach the depth of his cold eyes.

I gestured to Molly, and she slowly walked my way, maintaining as much distance between her and the Serpents as possible. I saw her wobble and worried that she was about to faint. My girl was stronger than that, though. She reached the end of the stage and jumped off, joining me as a little of the tension in my shoulders faded.

That was the moment hell broke loose.

“Hit dirt!” I shouted to Molly as she blinked and then dove for the carpet as Angel whipped out a gun. He wasn’t fast enough to get to her before I blocked his line of sight.

“Shoot me, and you’ll have the wrath of every member in every chapter of the Feral Rebels hunting your ass down. I can promise you, Angel, no one will fucking find what’s left of you when we’re done.”

He sneered as the double doors opened on the other side of the room. Men in suits faced us, drawing their weapons. “We’ll be seeing more of one another, Slash.”

I didn’t want to let him leave, but I also had to deal with the fucking Bladed Serpents in this room and keep Molly safe. That trumped my need to gut the bastard. For now.