Taken by a Monster Read online

  Published by EVERNIGHT PUBLISHING ® at Smashwords

  www.evernightpublishing.com

  Copyright© 2020 Sam Crescent

  ISBN: 978-0-3695-0153-0

  Cover Artist: Jay Aheer

  Editor: Audrey Bobak

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

  WARNING: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.

  This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, and places are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  DEDICATION

  To all of my fabulous readers. Thank you for your love and support and making this dream possible. Also, to my wonderful publisher, for giving my stories a home.

  TAKEN BY A MONSTER

  In the Arms of Monsters, 2

  Sam Crescent

  Copyright © 2020

  Chapter One

  Another dead end!

  Preacher stormed into his office, going straight to his desk. He stared down at the file on top, the last known picture of Robin, and threw the entire file across the room. Bear had already grabbed a bottle of whiskey and sat on his sofa, drinking.

  “Now isn’t the time for losing your senses,” he said.

  “Nah, well, it’s a good start seeing as we’ve got absolutely nothing else to work on. We’re dead in the water and we’ve even got Billy checking for bodies to match Robin’s description.” Bear tilted the bottle and drank deeply. “Let’s face it, we’re fucking screwed on ideas. We can’t save her. She’s gone.”

  “I don’t believe that.”

  “When are you going to realize you can’t save her? She’s dead, probably at the bottom of some fucking lake, or even worse, she’s been sold like a piece of cattle, Preach. Robin is gone.”

  “I’m not going to give up on her!”

  “It’s been two years, Preacher. When are you going to realize we’re fighting dead ends all the time? We can’t find her. She’s gone and you’re crazy to think Reaper would keep her as some kind of plaything. Do you think she’d even want to be alive now?” Bear got to his feet.

  Two years.

  Two fucking years Robin had been gone and he couldn’t find her. The moment Reaper disappeared, he hadn’t been able to locate her. It was like Reaper disappeared off the map and Preacher had to call in many fucking favors to try to find her again.

  “I can’t give up,” he said.

  “I know.” Bear looked down at his whiskey bottle. “Not a moment goes by that I don’t regret what happened. I was so focused on my own shit I didn’t see what Rebecca was doing. I figured she’d be happy being my old lady that I wouldn’t have to care,” he said. He snorted. “I should have known, really. She’d never loved me. Had only used me.”

  Rebecca had been Bear’s wife and Robin’s mother. Finding out she’d sold her daughter to O’Klaren to get rid of her, they’d ended Rebecca’s life, but it hadn’t been an easy death. Alongside O’Klaren, they’d tortured Rebecca. Both them had begged for their lives but he hadn’t given in to them.

  He’d waited, and only when he had to go on another lead did he allow them to die. They had both deserved what was coming to them. None of it had given him any real pleasure though. The pain of losing Robin had been too hard to bear. Until the end, O’Klaren and Rebecca had been useless to him.

  Neither of them had known Reaper’s plans. They thought the rival biker had lost interest because Robin lost the baby, but like always, Reaper had other plans. Once again, he knew he should have killed that fucker years ago. It would have been too kind of a death.

  Running his fingers through his hair, he realized he hadn’t cut it in two years. He didn’t want to think about the last time he’d gotten his hair cut. Robin had been the one to do it.

  With Robin gone, he’d laid all his cards on the table to Bear. His best friend, his VP, he knew the entire truth of his feelings for Robin. Feelings he’d never gotten to tell her. She’d been gone before he’d even whispered I love you. So much time wasted. So fucking useless.

  “I’m not going to give up on her. I can’t.”

  “You’re fighting a fool’s errand, Preach. Robin is gone. You’ve got to learn to accept it.” Bear grabbed another glass, filling it with whiskey. “Come, have a drink with me.”

  “I don’t want to drink.”

  “You’re going to throw useless files all around the room? Will it make you feel tough doing some shit like that?”

  “It’s not going to make me feel anything. I just … fuck…” He grabbed the glass from Bear and took a seat opposite him. Swallowing a mouthful, he relished the burn. For two years, he’d been spending every single useless mission at the bottom of a glass even though he vowed never to take another drop after what Milly did to him and Robin. Still, the alcohol didn’t help him. It didn’t even give him a chance to forget her. Robin was always there, a part of him. The women knew not to come near him. Most of the guys also gave him a wide berth. Between running the club, his usual business, and now finding Robin, he was stretched thin. He couldn’t give up on the club to follow every single lead. He had other men do it, even though he knew they didn’t want to.

  “She’s not gone.”

  “I hate to see you like this, man. You know it’s not healthy. I tell you every single time not to allow yourself to be broken by what’s going to happen.”

  “I know.”

  “And yet, you still continue to do it,” Bear said. “You think this doesn’t break my heart? My little girl is out there in the arms of a monster. We know what Reaper’s like and he’s been wanting to make you pay for a long time. Robin was your one weakness. You never should’ve let him see how much she means to you.”

  “Do you really think I planned this? That I wanted anyone to know how I felt about Robin? I thought I hid it well. Do you think this is easy for me? She was eighteen. After everything that happened, she should hate my guts, not want me. This was all new to me too,” he said. “I didn’t expect to want her, Bear. I’m not the kind of man to feature in young women’s fantasies.”

  “I know. Robin’s special. You’ve got to face the fact, though. She’s gone and she’s not coming back,” Bear said. “You’ve got to stop looking.”

  “No.” He would never give up. She wasn’t dead. He knew deep in his heart, she was still very much alive.

  “Come on, Preach. Look at us. We’re a mess. We can’t keep doing this to ourselves. I see the way you fill with hope. You are constantly going further away. You can’t keep doing this. The club needs us here. We have to stay here. You don’t think this makes us look weak, chasing after ghost stories of a girl we used to know? Robin, if she’s still alive, would be twenty by now. She wouldn’t want you to give everything up for her. She knows the club is important.”

  Preacher stared into his whiskey.

  Bear had been wanting to give up over six months ago. They’d gotten a hit through Dog’s crew about a sighting of Robin. When he went there, it had been a dead end, a dead motel.

  People just wanted money, and well, Preacher was throwing it at people in the hope of finding out the truth. He was being foolish, he knew this. Over the last two years, he’d made plenty of mistakes, but getting Robin back wasn’t a mistake. She didn’t deserve whatever Reaper was putting her through. He couldn’t even bring himself to think or to guess what it was. That man would hurt her just for the fun of it.

  A knock at the door pulled his attention away from the dark amber liquid. The only time he didn’t feel any pain was at the bottom of a bottle. He liked to
be completely numb, to forget about his troubles and only focus on his burning need to have Robin, not that it really worked. There were times he’d dream about her and imagine her in his arms, where he could hold her, make love to her, even fuck her.

  He was a forty-seven-year-old man and he was having wet fucking dreams about a woman who’d been taken from his life two years ago. A woman he loved more than anything else in the world but would never get the chance to tell her.

  “Any news?” Bishop asked.

  Preacher snorted.

  “Dead end,” Bear said.

  “Another one?”

  “Yes. Another dead end. No sign of Robin or Reaper. When I get my hands on him, I’m going to destroy him and it’s not going to be pretty.”

  “First, you’ve got to get your hands on him.” Bishop stepped into the room, taking a glass and holding it toward Bear for him to fill. After Robin was taken, Bishop moved out of his home, and he was really fucking pleased to see the back of him.

  Bishop had been broken and bleeding, but Preacher still felt his son was responsible for Reaper taking her. Even as he thought it, he was struck by a little guilt for even thinking the worst when it came to his son, but he couldn’t help it. Bishop should have done more to keep her safe.

  If Bishop hadn’t seen them kissing, would he have tried even harder to save her? Preacher would never know the answer, but he didn’t know what to think of his son right now. Bishop had only come on a couple of their trips to find her. Considering he claimed to love her, Preacher doubted his son’s true integrity. Staring at him now, there was nothing there. No fear, no sadness, nothing. It was like they were talking about the weather. Robin had been Bishop’s friend since they were fucking born, and yet, nothing.

  “Oh, I will,” Preacher said. Getting his hands on Reaper was exactly what he was going to do, no matter how long it took.

  “So you’re not going to give up?” Bear asked.

  “Give up?” Bishop looked between the two of them.

  “Bear believes she’s dead and it’s not worth me constantly going out of my way to find her.”

  “Come on, Preacher, we would have found her by now,” Bear said. “When are you going to realize the truth? She’s gone. I’m a realist here. Even as it hurts me to say it.”

  He finished off his glass of whiskey, letting out a sigh as the burn traveled down his throat. “What do you think, Bishop?” he asked.

  “Me?”

  “Yeah.”

  “About what?”

  Preacher laughed. “Finding Robin. Do you think it’s a dead end or do you think I should keep looking?” He really didn’t give a fuck what his son thought, or anyone else for that matter. The last person to talk shit about Robin as just being some pussy, he’d cut out their tongue and made them swallow it. Of course, he’d then killed the person but only after using the time to amuse himself hurting them.

  He’d killed a lot of people in his search for Robin.

  Too many.

  Some, he just had to kill because they’d been so fucking stupid to let her go. In the first month, their leads hadn’t been pointless. From one of the many hotel stops Reaper made, there was security footage. The man behind the counter had claimed it looked more like a father-daughter argument than a kidnapping.

  Preacher had seen the footage and killed the guy behind the desk. Robin had been screaming for help. Begging the guard to call a guy named Preacher. Telling him the Twisted Monsters MC would come for her.

  They’d never gotten the call. Reaper had paid the guy and left. Useless dead ends. Wasted time. It was what he had to deal with, constantly, never giving up hope.

  “What do you want to do?”

  “Don’t you have a brain cell in your head? I know what I want to do, I’m curious about you.”

  “You’ve got to keep looking,” Bishop said. “You know, in case you find her.”

  “And if she’s dead, what should I do?”

  “You can’t do anything. She’s dead.”

  “You know, considering she’s your best friend, you’ve been able to handle this really fucking well,” Preacher said. “Don’t you miss her?”

  “Of course, but I can’t allow myself to dwell. I know Robin wouldn’t have wanted that.”

  “Preacher, she’s my little girl. You know I want to find her more than anything. I miss her so much and I can’t stand the thought of that bastard being out there with her, hurting her. We all know what Reaper is doing to her, but … we’ve got to learn to let shit go. It’s no longer been a few hours or a few months. We’re talking two years.”

  The anniversary of when she was taken had passed a few days ago. No one else had said anything or maybe not even realized it, but he did. Another day of his failing.

  Holding out his glass for another refill, Preacher didn’t argue with Bear.

  Bear had given up long ago. There was no point in even asking his opinion. He truly believed Robin was dead. Why would he believe anything different? He didn’t know Reaper like Preacher did.

  “I’ve got to get laid. Excuse me.” Bear took the bottle with him but Preacher didn’t move.

  Bishop took Bear’s place but Preacher didn’t look at his son. At times, he found it was harder to stare at the man who allowed himself to be beaten and his girl to be taken. What the fuck kind of man did that?

  Robin, where the fuck are you?

  “What did you ever do to Reaper for him to do this to you?” Bishop asked.

  Staring over the rim of his glass, he kept on watching him. He saw parts of his younger self in his boy, but only parts.

  Bishop had graduated from high school, only just.

  Robin, she would have graduated and probably even considered a college as well. He’d have helped her no matter what she wanted out of the future. She was smart. He had to hope that in some way, he could give her that.

  “You don’t have to answer me. I know it’s hard for you to even look at me sometimes. I get it.”

  “You get it? You don’t know anything, Bishop.”

  “Then tell me. Talk to me. Make me understand why my best friend was taken by Reaper. Why he really wanted to hurt you. Did you know each other a long time ago? Did it start in high school or something?”

  “There doesn’t have to be a reason, Bishop.” He laughed. “Is that what you think? Reaper and I had some high school crush or some shit?” He shook his head, needing another drink. “Reaper and I, we’re from different clubs. Our rivalry started because I’m better than him. He’s weak and he knows it. He can’t have what I do because no one will follow him. He’s nothing.”

  “But if he’s so weak, why does he still have Robin?” Bishop asked.

  Preacher stared at his son, but he didn’t have an answer, at least, not one he wanted to share with him or anyone else.

  “I guess that’s the best question. He never stays in one place long enough and wherever he goes, he leaves a trail of death and destruction in his wake.”

  “And you still can’t find her?”

  “This conversation is starting to bore me.” He got to his feet and nodded at his son. There was no way he would leave his office open and exposed to anyone trying to find his secrets.

  “What if Bear is right? What if she is dead?”

  Preacher locked his office door before turning to his son. “You really should be careful what you say to me. Considering she’s supposed to be your best friend, but so far you’ve spent every available moment telling me how useless it is looking for her, it makes me wonder exactly why that is. What do you have to hide?”

  “I don’t have fuck all to hide, Dad! I can’t help but wonder if we’re wasting our time here. She’s gone and there’s no way she’s coming back.”

  “And that’s why you’ll never fucking find her.” Preacher pocketed his keys and without another look back, he headed out of the club. He went straight to his bike. He hadn’t drunk enough to even worry and he needed to clear his head.

 
Being at the clubhouse didn’t help him to think or give him any positive clues. All it did was remind him how much he’d fucking failed and he hated nothing more than being reminded about how fucking clueless he was when it came to Robin.

  He shouldn’t have gone to torture O’Klaren. When Bishop found them, he should have stayed with her, or at least took her to the club.

  After climbing onto his bike, he turned the engine over, gunning the machine as he took off through the metal gates. He no longer spent a great deal of time there. It was all work for him and when he did have time to rest, he went home.

  He pressed on the gas and rode, sweeping each curve as it came, building up speed, trying to find a place where he no longer thought about Robin, or how fucking useless he’d been in his search for her.

  There were moments he was sure he heard Robin plead for him to find her. It was fucked up, he knew that, but no matter how hard he fought, he felt her. She wasn’t dead. He didn’t know how he knew it, only that he did. If she was dead, he would’ve felt it, wouldn’t he?

  Love is for pussies.

  The weak.

  The useless.

  He used to believe all those words. They were, after all, part of his inner mantra. Women were just for pleasure and business, never to actually care about. Bishop’s mother hadn’t been a good woman. She’d spread her legs for anyone willing to pay the high price, and when he stopped being willing to pay, even for his son, she’d turned on him. Reaper again.

  That bastard had been a thorn in his side for as long as he could remember and there was nothing he regretted more than not squashing that bug when he had the chance. Reaper needed to die and one day soon, he’d be the one to drain the life out of him, to watch him burn.