Fearing The Biker Read online

  ***

  Confirmation came at ten-thirty p.m. Tank sent me a text verifying that there were at least a dozen Devil’s Rangers hiding out in Cedar Rapids. We pulled over to the side of the road as I read the message. Apparently, the place was lit up and the bikers were partying heavily in some cabin.

  You see Jessica anywhere? I asked.

  Negative

  But, you’re sure it’s the Devil’s Rangers?

  Yes, he replied. Two of them are out in back, banging some chick.

  I smiled. By the time we made it out there, most of them would be piss-assed drunk. I sent him a message back, telling him to keep watch and wait for our arrival.

  Should we try getting her out?

  Only if you think you can do it without getting caught.

  I.D.K. Place is crawling with Rangers.

  Then just keep watch. We’ll be there soon.

  OK

  I shoved the phone into my jacket. Just as we were about to take off again, my cell phone rang. It was some private number.

  “Yeah?” I answered.

  “Slammer?”

  “Who is this?” I asked, already knowing in the pit of my stomach.

  “Name is Reaper. Heard you’re missing something of value?” he said, sounding amused.

  I clenched my jaw. “Where is she?”

  “Somewhere safe. For the moment.”

  “What the fuck you want?”

  “To be honest, I haven’t decided yet. I just wanted to let you know we have her and you’ll be hearing back from me soon.”

  “Is she alive?”

  “Yes.”

  “I want proof.”

  There was a long pause. “You’ll get it.”

  “What’s this about? Mud?”

  “It’s about everything.”

  “Jessica has nothing to do with the club and she’s already been through enough. You need to let her fucking go.”

  “I don’t need to do anything.”

  “You hurt her and you’ll regret it for the rest of your life.”

  He laughed coldly. “Your threats don’t scare me, old man. By the way, I have a welcoming party set up for the Judge’s arrival.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Let’s just say that the piece of shit won’t be able to help you anymore. I just wish I could be there to watch it go down.”

  Before I could ask him anything else, he hung up.

  “Fuck,” I mumbled, typing out a warning message to the Judge. I hit send, wondering how Reaper knew where and when he’d be flying in from. I wasn’t even sure, myself.

  Maybe he’s just fucking with you? I thought, as I received an incoming message from a phone number that I didn’t recognize. This one had an image attached. When I saw a pic of Jessica, tied to a bed with a gag over her mouth, I grit my teeth. She was alive but the terror in her eyes, indicated that it might not have been a good thing.

  Shoving the phone back into my jacket, I waved toward the road and we took off again.

  Chapter Eleven

  I stared blindly at a picture of an eagle on the wall, my wrists burning from the twine holding me to the bed. I’d tried struggling, when they’d first tied me up, but soon realized that it was fruitless. My only consolation was that I’d been locked inside of the bedroom, alone. Reaper hadn’t even made an appearance. Not yet, anyway.

  Rock music and laughter in other parts of the cabin made me want to vomit. Here I was, being held prisoner, while men and women drank and partied in the next room. They didn’t give a shit about me. In fact, when I’d been escorted through the house, some of them had even cheered, as if I was some kind of prize. If that wasn’t bad enough, a couple of the men asked if they could get a turn screwing me. In response, Reaper had told them there was already a line, but after that, I was open territory.

  After about an hour in the room, the door opened and Stryker walked in by himself. He closed the door and stepped over to me.

  I stared up at him in terror, waiting for him to do something.

  “Say ‘cheese’” he said, snapping a picture of me with his phone.

  I watched as he smiled down at the photo and then pushed some buttons on the phone. Afterward, he attached the phone to his belt and stared down at me in silence.

  I glared at him, unable to speak because of a bandana they’d tied around my mouth.

  “Comfortable?” he asked, suddenly giggling. I could tell from the way his eyes were dilated, that he was on something. “You’re one fine piece of ass, you know that?”

  I rolled my eyes.

  “Yeah, you are. Those must be real, too.” He leaned down and began fondling my breast.

  Horrified, I tried pulling away from him, screaming through the material as he groped me.

  “Shush, now,” he whispered, moving his hand down my stomach and onto my pelvis. He squeezed my mound. “Can’t wait to see if you’re a true blonde.”

  Crying, I thrashed my body around, trying to do anything to get him to stop.

  Irritated, Stryker removed his hand. “You should be good to me, you know. I could make things so much easier for you. You have no fucking idea.”

  I stared up at him with loathing. At that moment, the only way he could make anything easier would be to slit my throat.

  He unzipped his jeans and pulled out his penis. “Tell you what - you blow me and I’ll make sure that Reaper doesn’t kill you. He owes me, anyway.”

  Knowing I’d rather die than put his dick in my mouth, I tried screaming again.

  Then, without warning, the bedroom door swung open and Reaper stood in the doorway. “You get the photo?”

  With his back to him, Stryker shoved himself back into his jeans and quickly zipped up. “Yeah.”

  “Good. You send it to Slammer?”

  “Yep,” he replied, turning to look at him.

  “Then why are you still in here?” asked Reaper, his face darkening.

  Stryker looked down at Reaper’s hand. He was holding a plastic red cup. “I was just making sure she didn’t need something to drink or have to use the bathroom.”

  “Good idea,” said Reaper. “I don’t need her pissing the bed.”

  Stryker turned back to look at me. “You need to go?”

  I nodded, knowing they’d have to untie me for that.

  “Help her out,” said Reaper. “Get her something to drink, too.” He smiled. “Maybe a shot or two of tequila. It might make her more pliable.”

  Stryker smirked. “Good idea.”

  Reaper left the room and Stryker began untying me.

  “Keep your mouth shut about what almost happened in here. You got it?”

  I nodded.

  When I was free, he grabbed my arm and pulled me off of the bed and toward the door. Stopping abruptly, he looked at me. “One more thing, I’m the only reason you’re still alive. So, don’t try anything stupid or I’ll make Reaper want to kill you. Got it?”

  I nodded again.

  “I’m serious. This place is filled with people who want to see Slammer dead. They don’t particularly like you, either. I’m all you got.”

  “I get it,” I said, my mouth muffled from the gag.

  He looked at the scarf around my face. “You promise to keep quiet and not shoot your mouth off, I’ll remove that.”

  I nodded.

  He reached around and untied the scarf, his whiskey breath in my face. “Too bad you’re on the wrong side,” he whispered, touching my cheek with his thumb. “You’re one fine looking woman.”

  I licked my lips.

  Stryker smiled at me. “We can still have ourselves a little party when we get back. Like I said, things will go a lot easier for you.”

  I stiffened up, my heart pounding in my chest as his lips came dangerously close to touching mine. “I really need to go to the bathroom badly,” I whispered, forcing a smile. “It’s been hours.”

  “Fine. Let’s go.”

  Relieved, I followed him down the hallway, t
o the bathroom, which was currently being occupied.

  “Shit,” mumbled Stryker. He pounded on the door. “You almost done in there?”

  “Yeah. Just need a few more minutes,” hollered a man’s voice.

  “Fuck,” he replied, turning to look at me. “Only one bathroom. Hope you can hold it.”

  “Seriously… I’ve got to go really bad,” I said, bringing my hand to my crotch, as if I was trying not to pee my pants. “I’ve been holding it for hours and now that I’m standing, it’s even harder to hold it.”

  Before he could answer, we both heard the distinct sound of skin slapping against skin. Then a woman began to moan.

  Stryker smirked and pulled a cigarette pack out of his pocket. “Guess they are pretty busy in there.”

  “Please,” I begged. “I don’t want to pee myself. Is there anywhere else? What about outside? I’ll do it quickly and then we can get back to the bedroom.”

  He lit his cigarette with a lighter and then grabbed my hand. “Now you’re talking. Let’s go.”

  “Thank you.”

  He pulled me down the hallway, to the kitchen, where two girls, were drinking wine and playing cards.

  “Where you going with her, Stryker?” asked the tall redhead.

  “Someone’s in the can and she’s gotta go. I’m bringing her outside to pee in the bushes,” he replied.

  “Just like all fucking Gold Viper bitches should be treated. Like dogs,” said the redhead.

  I noticed that neither of the girls wore patches, so I assumed they were club whores. “I’d rather be treated like a dog then a rollercoaster. I bet the guys who fuck you need a seatbelt so they don’t slip out.”

  Her smile fell. “Fuck you,” she said, standing up.

  “Settle the fuck down, Lee Ann,” warned Stryker.

  Lee Ann glared at me but sat down. “Get her out of here. She fucking smells like a wet dog.”

  “Actually, honey. I think that’s the odor coming from between your legs,” I said, surprised at my own tenacity. “Do everyone a favor and spray that thing with Lysol.”

  “You fucking whore,” she yelled, throwing the cards down on the table. She stood up and charged toward me.

  “Lee Ann, I’m serious, knock it off,” ordered Stryker, pushing her away. “Don’t let her get to you.”

  “I’m going to kill that fucking bitch,” she cried, trying to move around him to get to me.

  I plugged my nose. “Does anyone else smell that or is it just me?”

  The other girl snorted.

  Lee Ann screamed and Stryker had to physically hold her back.

  Seeing my opportunity, I opened the kitchen door and ran outside, toward the woods.

  “Goddamn it!” hollered Stryker, now running outside after me.

  Determined to get away, I ran as fast as I could into the woods, but was no match for him. He caught up in no time and tackled me to the ground.

  “You fucking cunt,” he growled, pulling me up from the dirt. “I told you not to try anything, didn’t I? Didn’t I!?”

  “Yes. I’m sorry,” I squeaked. “I thought she was going to kill me. How can you blame me for that?”

  He relaxed. “Still, you shouldn’t have run off like that. Now, pull down your jeans and pee somewhere.”

  “Not until you turn around.”

  He grunted. “If you think I’m turning my back to you…”

  “I can’t go when someone is watching.”

  “I don’t fucking care. If you don’t get your pants down in two seconds, I’m going to take them off for you.’

  “Fine,” I said. Instead of unbuckling them, I pulled the belt buckle out of my jeans and tried stabbing him in the neck with the prong.

  “What the fuck?” He grabbed it out of my hand and laughed. “This is a belt buckle, isn’t it? Resourceful little bitch, aren’t you?”

  I glared at him silently.

  “Everything okay out here?” hollered Reaper, from near the cabin.

  “Yeah. I got her!” he called back, grabbing me by the throat. “She isn’t getting away.”

  I gasped at the pain. “Please, don’t,” I said hoarsely.

  “Just be lucky I didn’t shoot your ass.”

  “You’d better keep a better eye on her!” Reaper yelled. “You lose her and I’ll kick your fucking ass!”

  “Don’t worry. I got her!” he repeated, angrily.

  The door to the cabin banged shut.

  “Asshole,” mumbled Stryker.

  “Please, let me go,” I begged after he removed his hand from my neck. “I can’t go back there, to the cabin. I’d rather die.”

  “Shut up. I don’t give a fuck what happens to you anymore.” Stryker tossed the prong and then tried unbuckling my jeans.

  “What are you doing?” I gasped, slapping his hands away.

  “Making sure you pee so we can get back inside. Hold still,” he said, grabbing my wrist with one hand and my button with the other. “So we can get these off.”

  “No! Let me go,” I cried, trying to pull away.

  He grunted. “No fucking way.”

  “You heard the lady. Let her go,” said a deep voice behind us.

  I sucked in my breath, feeling an overwhelming sense of relief.

  Tank!

  Swearing, Stryker released me and I rushed away from him. When I turned back around, Stryker was on the ground, motionless with Tank and Raptor standing over him.

  “Did you kill him?” I asked, spying the belt buckle near my feet. I picked it up.

  “No. I just knocked him out,” said Raptor, rubbing and waving his fist.

  “Jesus, you must hit hard,” I said, surprised.

  “You just have to know where to hit someone,” he replied. “Damn, I hope I didn’t break anything in my hand.”

  “We’ve gotta fly, people,” whispered Tank, when the cabin doorway opened up again.

  “Is everything alright out here?!” echoed another man’s voice. “Stryker? That you?”

  Stryker didn’t answer, for obvious reasons.

  “Let’s go, brother,” repeated Tank, when Raptor pulled out his gun.

  “No. We need to kill that fucker, Reaper,” answered Raptor, a determined look on his face. “Before he causes anymore harm.”

  “Stryker?!” repeated the biker, his voice growing nearer.

  “It’s too dangerous,” whispered Tank as two more Devil’s Rangers stepped outside. “Another time.”

  “But, we’re already here,” he argued. “And there might not be another chance to kill Kodiak.”

  “There are only two of us,” reminded Tank. “It would be suicide. Come on, man. Let’s get her out of here before shit gets ugly.”

  Suddenly, shots were fired. A bullet whistled by Raptor, almost hitting him.

  “Fuck. We’ve been spotted. Let’s go!” growled Tank, grabbing my hand.

  All three of us began running as gunfire exploded all around us.

  “Fuck!” gasped Raptor, grabbing his arm. He slowed down.

  “You okay?” asked Tank, looking back over his shoulder.

  “Yes. I’ve been hit but… I’m fine. Just keep going,” he replied, his face already white.

  Fortunately, we were able to put distance between us and the Devil’s Rangers. After several minutes of running, we managed to lose them, escaping into a deeper part of the woods.

  “What do we do now?” I asked, leaning forward as I tried catching my breath.

  “We need to circle back and get to our bikes,” said Tank.

  “No,” answered Raptor, examining the bullet wound on his arm. “I hate to say it, but they’ve probably already got to them. We can’t go back that way.”

  “Fuck,” muttered Tank. “I knew we should have parked farther away. I just bought that bike, last year. They’re going to fuck with it. I just know it.”

  “Of course they are,” said Raptor. “Call it in as being stolen, when we get back to Jensen.”

  “
Damn those assholes,” he said, kicking a few sticks away with his boot. “We should have ridden in a cage.”

  “Too late now for regrets,” said Raptor. “At least we got Jessica back. That’s the main thing.”

  “Yes, and thank you so much. I still can’t believe you found me,” I said.

  “We had help from The Judge,” said Raptor “He found an address for the cabin.”

  “Thank him for me, the next time you talk to him. You okay?” I asked, now staring at his arm with concern. There was a lot of blood.

  “I’ll be fine.” He took his cut off and then began removing the white T-shirt underneath. “I just need to stop the bleeding,” he said, ripping his shirt. He wrapped it around his arm and I watched as he tied it.

  “If you want, I can take a look at it. I’m a nurse now, you know?” I told him.

  “Maybe when we’re out of here,” he replied, touching it.

  “Have you ever been shot before?” I asked.

  He smiled humorlessly. “Actually, no. Figured it would happen one day, though. Hoped that it wouldn’t though. Adriana is going to be pissed.”

  “Is there a lot of pain?” I asked.

  “Nah. It’s not too bad.”

  “That’s because you don’t have pythons like this,” joked Tank, flexing his muscle. “And less muscle to tear into.”

  I looked at Raptor’s arms and although they weren’t anything like Tank’s, it was obvious that he spent plenty of time at the gym.

  “Some of us have puny arms and others of us have puny dicks. Guess we know where you stand, Popeye,” joked Raptor.

  “Hell, I need to eat my spinach just to carry the weight of this beast around,” he replied, grabbing the front of his jeans.

  Raptor chuckled.

  “Guys, you’re really going to make stupid dick jokes like that when our lives are in danger are still in danger and we’re lost in the damn woods?”

  “Relax, Sis. Talking shit helps us lighten the mood,” said Tank. “Relieves stress.”

  “Don’t worry. We know where we are,” said Tank. “We’re somewhere in Cedar Rapids.” He pulled out his cell phone. “In fact, I’d better call Slammer now and let him know what’s happening.”

  As he was calling Slammer, I looked at Raptor. “How are we going to find our way out of the woods?”

  “I’m sure there’s an App for that,” he replied, taking out his phone. “The beauty of technology, huh?”