Wild Ride (The Soldiers of Wrath MC, 7) Page 8

  Tears filled her eyes. “I was in that car.”

  “Yes, you shouldn’t have been though, Constance. I thought you’d be somewhere else at the time. If I had known you would be in the car too I wouldn’t have touched it.” He tsked, like this was her fault. “You’ve become a bit of pain for doing stuff you really shouldn’t do, but don’t worry. I know how to cure you of your failings so you’re as perfect as I want you to be.”

  Oh God. Vengeance, where are you?

  22

  Vengeance had gone to the flower shop, although he knew Craig wouldn’t have stayed there, but he had to start somewhere. But before he’d left, trying to figure out where in the fuck Craig could have taken her, his brothers showed up.

  Demon, Joker, Steel and Sakes all rode up in an SUV. Striker and Nerd, as well as Tryk, and the prospect Brash, came in another vehicle. And then there was Weasel rolling up on his Harley.

  Vengeance ran a hand over his face and walked over to the other Patches. Demon rolled down the driver’s side window, glaring at him, looking pissed and serious as fuck.

  “They’re not here, yeah?” he asked it like a question, but it was clear they all knew Craig wouldn’t have been dumb enough to stay here.

  “You know where the fucker might have taken her?”

  Vengeance glanced over at his Harley, thinking, trying to remember if Constance had told him anything about Craig.

  “He works at the cemetery where Constance goes, but other than that I don’t know shit about him.” He exhaled, feeling so fucking pissed, but worried as hell, too. “I need to get back to the club and look him up, see what I can dig up. I need to do that shit now.” He was starting to worry. Although he was pretty sure the prick wouldn’t hurt Constance because it was clear he wanted her, if he was desperate…

  “No need to go back to the club,” Tryk said from the other SUV.

  Vengeance turned around and walked over to where the man sat in the back. The Patch already had his laptop out and booted up.

  “I only know his first name, but he works at the Solemn Hearts Cemetery right in town. Think you can work with that?”

  Tryk nodded. “No problem. Give me a few.” He started typing away at the laptop, the screen having this blue glow lighting up the interior of the SUV.

  It seemed like hours, but it was only a minute at the most before Tryk sat up straighter.

  “Found the fucker.” Tyrk turned the laptop around, and sure enough Tryk had gotten the full name and address of the little prick.

  “It’s a start. Now let’s go find the little asshole and beat the living shit out of him before burying him six feet under.”

  The sound of water running was what roused Constance. She blinked her eyes open, the blurriness dissipating after a few seconds. She’d been moved, but she had no idea when or how Craig had done it without her knowing.

  But then she realized that the pain in her head had made her so drowsy, and before she knew it darkness had swept her under.

  On instinct she lifted her hands, meaning to rub her eyes, try and get the sleep and fuzziness out of them, but the clank of metal on metal had her stilling. She tugged her arm again, not sure why she was so surprised she was locked up. Constance glanced to the side and saw that her hand was attached to the metal bedpost with a pair of handcuffs.

  She pushed herself up on the bed, her heart racing again and her head pounding with this dull but constant ache. How in the hell would she get out of this? Even if Vengeance had heard her, how in the fuck would he find her?

  She’d never told him Craig’s last name, never said anything more than where he worked.

  Could he find out where he lived that way? Would he even think to look here? Maybe this wasn’t Craig’s house?

  God, she was freaking out. Beads of sweat coated her forehead, and she knew no amount of struggling would get her hand undone.

  And that water … what was with the sound of the running water?

  As if she’d screamed that out loud, a door right outside of the bedroom opened. She stilled, her heart stopping, her focus on the partially ajar door. It was pushed open a second later and Craig stood on the other side, a white towel tossed over his shoulder, and his shirtsleeves rolled up his forearms.

  She stared at that towel, heard the sound of water, and her panic rose tenfold.

  Bathing.

  He was going to make her wash herself in front of him. God, this was getting worse by the minute.

  Craig came closer and she tried moving back, but she could only go so far before he was standing right beside her, this glint in his eyes that made her skin crawl.

  “You’re dirty,” Craig said, his lids at half-mast, this almost disgustingly aroused feeling coming off of him.

  She started shaking her head, her fear rising, her breath coming in short pants. God, this wasn’t happening.

  He had her uncuffed and hauled off the bed before she could react. He pulled her into the bathroom despite her struggling, and although he wasn’t that large of a man he was strong. When they were in the room the first thing she smelled was lilacs. She nearly gagged, knowing he had scented the water, or maybe he wanted her to wash herself with it. The room was foggy, humid from the heat and water, and she struggled more fiercely.

  “Don’t make this harder than it has to be.” He tossed her forward and closed the door, locking them in. “Undress,” he demanded, staring at her, making her feel sick.

  She shook her head. “No.”

  “Do you want me to take your clothes off then?” The way he said it was like he wanted her to defy him, wanted to be the one that tore the clothes from her. He took a step closer and she retreated one.

  “No,” she said again and started taking off her clothes. He watched her with this sick satisfaction.

  “He’ll come for me.”

  Craig grinned. “If he knows where to find me he can sure try and take you from me.”

  23

  Constance ached all over and turned her back to him, slowly taking her clothes off.

  “Come on, Constance. Time’s wasting,” he said.

  “I’m hurting,” she said. Craig caught her arm, and she cried out from the shock of pain that his touch created, from the disgust she felt for him.

  “You’ll do exactly as I say, otherwise I’m going to make you get on your fucking knees and suck my dick until you swallow every last drop of cum.”

  She didn’t even question why he hadn’t forced that in case he actually made her do it.

  “I have spent a long time thinking about this moment, and wanting to see you strip to show me what has always been mine.”

  Closing her eyes, she gritted her teeth and kept trying to remind herself that she was in a very dangerous position, one she really needed to be careful of.

  You can do this.

  Just strip.

  See, you’re down to your bra and panties. Yay.

  It didn’t matter; Vengeance would come and she would be safe. There had to be a way for him to find her, and she was hoping, praying, and if anyone was listening they would help her. They would make this asshole pay.

  “You knew Brando well?”

  Craig snorted. “No. He thought he was good enough for you, and we both know that asshole could never give you what you wanted, what you needed.”

  She pulled on the bra, unsnapping the lock, and then wriggling it down her body. Next, she got rid of her panties, and she hated that there was nothing else for her to remove.

  “Turn around,” he said.

  Come on, Constance. You’re better than him. You can do this.

  Turning toward him, her hands clenched into fists, she forced herself to take his stares, and to know that one day very soon, like today, she was going to gouge out his eyeballs and smash them. Even the thought of it grossed her out but she liked to pretend she could do something like that.

  “You are so beautiful. I always imagined what it would be like to be here like this, worshiping your body.”
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  She turned her head left and caught sight of her reflection. Bruises covered her face, and some dried blood was stuck in her hair. “How did you move me from the sofa?”

  “I knew you’d be thirsty and difficult. I wanted to get that pasta from the supermarket you love so much. I put a sleeping pill in your water, and you went out like a light. Once we bathe, I’ve got a special dinner planned for you, and then we’re going to make love.”

  When all of this was over, she was going to need an Oscar for her performance. A small amount of vomit filled her mouth, and it sickened her that she swallowed it down. One step at a time, and right now she had a psychopath intent on making her his little love slave. He reached out, and she froze as he placed his hand on her stomach. She tensed up, wanting nothing more than to throw his hand off her body, but she stopped herself.

  The last thing she wanted to do was to give him a reason to hurt her.

  “Go on. Get in the water. You do smell a little.”

  She didn’t wait for him to tell her twice and climbed into the bath, grateful for the bubbles that were around her, keeping her safe.

  Come on, Vengeance. Please be on the way, or…

  Maybe if she was nice and got talking with him, it might stop him from hurting her. “This is really nice. Thank you.”

  “I thought you would like it. The lavender is there to help you relax.”

  “It’s lovely. I love the smell.” She ran her hands through the water, looking around the edges of the tub, wondering if there was a weapon. “So, erm, how have you been?”

  “It has been really busy. There has been a lot of leaves to clean up around the graveyard, and you know I don’t like to leave messes.”

  “Is that what you do? Make sure everything looks amazing.” She forced a smile to her lips. “You do an amazing job.”

  “It’s morbid but it’s something I really have to do. I also feel that I’m respecting those that have passed.” Even as he spoke she remembered his confession and that he’d caused Brando’s death. He’d gotten that driver to run them off the road that night.

  “Why did you never say anything?” she asked. “Brando could still be alive and so could my parents.”

  The change in Craig was instant. “They always thought they were better than us. They would never allow us to be together. They were cunts, the lot of them, and you deserved better, so much better.” He stood up and began to tower over her.

  “I always thought that too.” She held her hand up, hoping to ward him off and for him to see that he was scaring her. “My parents always wanted me to be a certain way and I could never be the person they wanted. I was always afraid, Craig. So scared.” Right now she was terrified of Craig. Part of what she said was the truth. Her parents had been so perfect and she felt that they deserved someone a lot better than her as a daughter. She would do anything to keep him away from her.

  She tensed up as he reached out, stroking her cheek. Closing her eyes, she hoped she didn’t show her revulsion to his touch. Her gut was twisting and she didn’t know how long she was going to be able to keep up this charade. Surely Vengeance would find her. He had to find her. There was no one else she could trust.

  “I would never hurt you, Constance, even though I’m threatening you now, you’re meant for me. I was always taking care of you. Always loving you and I knew one day we would be together.” He leaned down and pressed his lips against hers. His eyes were closed, and she kissed him back.

  Pulling away, she smiled at him. “Thank you.”

  “You don’t need to thank me, beautiful. I knew running off with that biker was just a mistake. You were desperate for me, and I will deal with that criminal. You’ll never have to be afraid again.”

  24

  Vengeance pulled to a stop in front of the small, rundown house that was where Craig supposedly lived. Although it was dark outside it was clear the windows had been blacked out, painted not to allow any light to penetrate inside.

  “This it?” Weasel asked when he pulled to a stop beside him.

  “That’s what Tryk found.”

  “Well, let’s get this fucking party started.”

  Vengeance couldn’t have said it better himself.

  Constance had her hand covering her breasts, and the other covering between her legs. Craig stared at her, lust in his eyes, desire clouding the area around him. She’d bathed and now stood out of the tub, water dripping from her.

  “Move your hands.”

  She shook her head. “No.” Her voice was soft, barely even audible, but fuck him.

  He took a step closer and she moved one back, but the bathtub stopped her retreat.

  “I can see you’re going to be difficult again. I thought we had an understanding? I thought you were on the same page as me?”

  Playing like she could get out of this, like she could be with Craig in order to save her life, made her feel disgusted. No, she couldn’t pretend, couldn’t act like she could be okay with this. Constance didn’t want Craig thinking there was any hope.

  She’d rather die than let that happen.

  “You might as well kill me, because I’ll never be what you want me to be. I love Vengeance.”

  He curled his lip in disgust.

  She swore she heard something outside of the bathroom, but with her heart thundering, her throat tightening, she chalked it up to her wishing Vengeance was here.

  Craig moved closer, and before she knew what was happening he backhanded her so hard her entire body twisted to the side. She fell, hitting her head on the side of the tub, pain consuming her.

  And then she swore she did hear Vengeance calling her name, right before there was a loud crash and the bathroom door was splintering inward. But darkness swept her under before she could see what was going on.

  Vengeance stared at the motherfucker who had been about to do God knows what to his woman. All he could think about when he looked at this piece of shit was the things he would have forced her to do, the way he’d made Constance feel.

  All he could think about was seeing Constance on the floor, blood pooling from her temple, and the fear that she was gone slamming into him. Thankfully they got her to their doctor and they got her stable. But who knows what kind of mental shit this fucker had put her through?

  Rage and murder filled his head. Vengeance curled his hands into tight fists at his sides. This bastard would pay with his life.

  They’d taken Craig back to the clubhouse, were in the basement now, and this was where the prick would die. The had Craig in a chair, his arms and legs bound, his face bloody and beaten because Weasel had gotten to him not more than twenty minutes ago.

  Craig was passed out at the moment, most likely from the pain, but he’d be awake soon enough. Vengeance walked up to Craig, backhanded the fucker, and smiled when Craig stuttered awake, moaning form the agony he was clearly in.

  He took a step back and thought about how he’d do this. Fast and easy had never been his thing, but then again he wanted this fucker gone so he could be with Constance.

  Vengeance swung out and connected his knuckles with the fucker’s face. Craig’s head kicked to the side, and he groaned. He hit Craig again, this time successfully knocking a tooth out.

  Craig struggled in his bonds, and Vengeance grinned at that. Blood was a continuous flow from him, and a small pool was now on the floor beneath the man. Good. By the time they were done he’d be soaked in the viscous fluid.

  Over and over he punched Craig, and soon the fucker was hunched forward, his breathing ragged.

  “Brother, finish the bastard off before he dies and you don’t get that final blow in.” Weasel stood right next to Vengeance now, clapped him on the back, then moved to the other side of the room.

  Vengeance didn’t do that though. First he walked over to the table set up in the corner, grabbed the bottle of Scotch and downed three swallows before finally returning to Craig. He stared at the man he was about to kill, the prick who had traumatized Constanc
e. He would have hurt her, raped, hell, might have killed her just so no one else could have her.

  “Here, brother,” a Patch said, but Vengeance was too lost in what was happening to know which brother it was who handed him the knife. He grabbed Craig’s chin, forced the fucker to look at him and bared his teeth.

  “You should have walked away. But taking my woman, hurting her, doing the unthinkable things you would have done to her, signed your death warrant.”

  And then he slid the blade into Craig’s gut.

  Vengeance took pleasure in stabbing the motherfucker over and over again, blood covering his hand and chest and splattering on the ground like some grisly massacre. Vengeance pulled the blade out, blood dripping from the now red-stained weapon.

  He saw Weasel on the other side of the room, this sadistic smile on the fucker’s face. Weasel liked violence, loved delivering it as well as watching it.

  The sound Craig made was one of his lungs filling up, his body shutting down. Vengeance bared his teeth, stabbed the fucker once more, and twisted the blade one last time as the life faded from this motherfucker’s eyes.

  Silence filled the room when Craig gave one more stuttering breath.

  Vengeance moved back, stared at the piece of shit that wouldn’t ever hurt Constance again, and felt … relief. “Time to bury this fucker six feet under.”

  25

  One week later

  Constance stared in the mirror at her face, which had a bandage where Craig had hit her. And when she’d hit the tub she had a gash on the side of her face, one that had opened clean up, and would definitely leave a mark. She reached out, touching the pristine white bandage and wondered what the damage would be when it was all said and done.

  She’d woken up just a few hours ago. But a week had passed, and she was trying to move on, enjoy her life, even if knowing that Vengeance and his biker brothers had killed Craig was hard to process at times.