Chapter 15

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Chloe woke slowly, the rocking motion of movement making her stomach roll.

She opened her eyes, and the back of a man’s legs came into view. Slung over his shoulder as she was, she couldn’t see much else. A door opened, and the man carrying her entered a room, the door slamming behind them.

She couldn’t help it, she winced.

His arm tightened over the back of her legs a moment before he dropped her onto a bed.

She instantly scrambled toward the far edge, unsure where she intended to run but just wanting distance.

His hand shot out, tightly gripping her ankle. “Hold still or I’ll tie you down.”

His rough, stern voice made her freeze, her body curling into the fetal position as a sob pushed out from between her lips.

He stared down at her with hard eyes, his hand so tight on her ankle, she was sure he was leaving bruises.

“Please,” she whispered, knowing that it was a foolish thing to say.

His gaze only grew harder. “He told you about me, your duke?”

She shook her head, not looking into his eyes, but staring at a spot on the far wall. The room was sparse, the walls dirty. Fear clutched her heart.

“Nothing?” He leaned over, gripping her chin, his hot breath blowing across her face. “He didn’t warn you that Adam was hunting him?”

Adam? This was the man Ryker thought she was involved with for some reason? And had Ryker said he was hunting him? She forgot the pain as she tried to concentrate. “But…” Her tongue darted out to lick her parched lips, but she instantly pulled it back in when his gaze caught the movement, his eyes darkening. “But why?”

He sneered down at her. “The whole lot of them is full of sin. They are supposed to be our leaders, the men who provide for the masses. What do they do? Waste themselves in liquor, and games, and whores. The filthiest sinners of them all and they deserve to be punished. To be scourged.”

He shoved her face back down, her head bouncing off the bed. He let go of her ankle as well, and for a moment she breathed a sigh of relief until he shrugged off his coat. More fear made her shrink as far back as she could as she desperately searched for an exit.

“Look at you,” he continued, pulling at the knot in his cravat. “Your body on display, participating in vile acts in meeting rooms. Playing a whore for him.”

A gasping sob tore from her lips.

“Please,” she begged again as he yanked off his vest and then began tugging at his shirt. “Whatever you think of me, please don’t hurt me.” Her voice shook and broke as terror threatened to overwhelm her senses. This couldn’t be how she lost her innocence.

He tugged the shirt over his head and dropped it into the wooden chair in the corner before he crossed to a small chest. Her eyes were wide, unable to look away as he pulled out a small whip from its depths.

A tremble so violent that it made her teeth rattle wracked through her. Was he going to rape her? Whip her first?

She realized tears were streaming down her cheeks as he held the whip straight out. It didn’t have one throng but several, balls replacing the crackers.

Her breath pushed out in jagged little huffs, her eyes so wide and still watering of their own volition.

And then he lowered his hand. For a moment she thought he might be relaxing but he only prepared for the upswing, his arm tensing as the whip arched through the air.

Her gaze flew shut then, her body tensing for the hit.

But it never came.

The whip still whistled through the air, she heard it hit, the deep thud of flesh being pummeled filling the room.

Her eyes flew open as the whip moved through the air. But Adam didn’t hesitate, with startling strength, the whip cracked through the air again, slicing into the flesh of his own back. This time she heard his grunt of pain.

Her own gasping sob escaped her lips.

He hit himself two, three, four more times before he looked at her again.

“I’m repenting,” he said to a question she hadn’t asked. “Lustful thoughts.” And his eyes raked over her again.

He stepped over to the side of the bed, the whip hovering over her, close enough that despite its black leather, she could see the shine of deep dark red on the individual balls. His blood…

“You should repent too, Chloe Fairchild. Pain will set you free from your sins.” And then he raised the whip again.

This time, she couldn’t confine her panic ripping through her veins, and she screamed, even while knowing her fear wouldn’t stop the madman.

* * *

Ryker reached the delipidated inn and tossed the promised shillings at the driver. “Stay here and I’ll give you another twenty.” From a distance, Ryker had seen Adam’s carriage stop in front of this place, seen him carry the unconscious Chloe through the doors. He was only a minute behind.

But as he entered the inn, he looked at the peg board on the wall. Keys for rooms two, four, five, and eight were missing.

Into which one had Adam taken Chloe?

“Can I help you?” An older woman in a threadbare apron, and frazzled hair coming out of her bonnet, asked in a thick cockney accent.

“Adam. Which room?”

“Can’t say…” The woman held out one hand, the other scratching at her chin.

He rumbled out a frustrated breath as he grabbed several coins from his pocket, slapping them into her hand.

She curled her wrinkled fingers around them, bringing one to her mouth, and biting into it, showing several gaps in her teeth.

“Well?”

“Eight. Only one on the third floor.”

He didn’t say another word, instead he started up the stairs, taking them two and three at a time until he’d reached the third floor.

Just one door stood in front of him, and he paused for the barest second.

A woman’s scream ripped through the air, and the sound reverberated through him. Chloe. His pulse raced, a pianoforte sitting on his chest.

Barreling forward, he dropped his shoulder, the door crashing in on its frame as it burst open.

Chloe lay on the bed, curled into herself, Adam over her with a whip held up in the air.

“You!” he snarled, charging forward.

Adam instantly changed direction, swinging the whip in a wide arc through the air and coming at him from the side as Ryker hurled himself around the bed.

The whip whistled as Ryker tried to sidestep it but, he was moving too quickly, with too much purpose, so intent upon protecting Chloe, he’d charged in too fast. The leather balls cracked into his ribs, pain exploding through his chest.

He grunted through the pain, unable to think for a single moment, before he came to his senses. Unsheathing the knife tucked under his jacket, he swung at Adam in one fluid movement, slicing toward the man’s stomach.

Adam jumped back, but not enough, and Ryker felt the knife sink into flesh, a thick red line appearing on the man’s midsection.

It didn’t keep Adam from raising the whip again.

Ryker knew he’d have to take the hit, but he didn’t brace himself. Instead, he ran full force into Adam, his superior height and weight sending the man crashing into the wall as the whip came down on his back, pain throbbing through his torso.

Chloe screamed, scrambling across the bed to move away from them.

“Get out of here,” he ordered through the agony. Whatever happened next, he’d keep Chloe safe, or he’d die trying.

Spinning them both, Ryker pushed them toward the far wall, away from Chloe. Adam raised the whip, bringing it down on Ryker’s back once again.

This time, when the whip cracked, Ryker faltered, loosening his grip, and Adam spun away. He stopped, whip in hand, his eyes meeting Ryker’s.

Ryker paused too, readying himself for the next attack. Every bone in his body ached, but he had to pull through.

“This isn’t over,” Adam snarled. “Judas and I are coming for you.”

“Not if—” But Ryker stopped, his words dying as he watched in horror.

Adam, a sick smile curling his lips, vaulted himself through the closed window.

The sound of shattering glass filled the air as Ryker ran to the window’s edge just in time to see Adam land on the roof of a carriage.

“Adam!” he roared into the night as the driver cracked his own whip and sped off into the night, with Adam collapsed on the top.

Ryker watched him go, fists clenched at his sides. He couldn’t follow.

“Ryker?” Chloe’s teary voice called from the far side of the bed. He turned back to see she’d dropped to the floor, only her large blue eyes peering over the top of the filthy covers.

“It’s all right, love.” He left the window, striding to Chloe. He had his jacket off by the time he reached her, the back of it shredded from the whip. But it would still cover and warm her, and so he dropped it about her shoulders and pulled her into his arms. “I’m here.”

“He was going to…” She let out a soft sob, burying her face in his shoulder.

“Did he hurt you?”

She shook her head. “No. You came just in time. I… how did you…”

“That doesn’t matter. What I need you to know is that I will always come for you. Always.”

She wrapped her arm around his neck. “I was so frightened.”

He cursed himself, a hundred times the fool. He’d brought her into this. She never would have been part of it otherwise. He could see that now.

He’d been so stupid trying to protect the club when he should have been protecting her.

“He said I was a whore,” she whispered, her voice breaking. “He said that your club was full of sin and that you all deserved to be scourged.”

He held her tighter as he swung her into his arms, his back protesting, though he ignored the pain.

She must have felt his grimace though. “What’s wrong?” she asked, her fingers splaying out on his neck.

His back was likely a mess, not that he was setting her down. He’d carry her through the pain. She deserved nothing less and he’d be the man she needed in this moment.

But as he held her close, he couldn’t help but think Adam was at least partially right. He’d been living the wrong life. He could see that now. A life of sin and degradation only led to pain and danger.… It was time to change.