Taken by a Monster (In the Arms of Monsters Book 2) Read online

  “I’m sorry,” he said.

  “It’s not your fault. It’s mine. I don’t know anything, not really.”

  “Well, this might help.” He parked outside a large building proclaiming itself to be a high school.

  “One day, we’re going to look back on these days as the worst ones of our lives,” Bishop said.

  “Please, it’s supposed to be the opposite. These are supposed to be the best days.”

  “We can’t all have everything.”

  “I went here with Bishop?”

  “Are you remembering something?” he asked.

  “I don’t … no, I don’t think it’s a memory. A vague conversation.” She rubbed at her temple. It meant nothing to her. Everything was just a load of nothing.

  She stared at the building, and before her eyes, it flashed to ambers and reds, and back to the fullness of greens. She’d seen the school throughout the different seasons.

  “Did I graduate?”

  “No. You were taken before you were able to do so.”

  “Wow, that sucked. So I’m twenty years old, have no graduation diploma, and I don’t even know if I was a good student.”

  “You were a good student. Smart.”

  “I was?”

  “Yes. You always made time for studying. You had a very tight schedule. You didn’t know what you wanted, if college was in your future, but you loved to learn.”

  She looked back at the school but once again, it was nothing more than a blank. “I wonder if I’ll ever remember.”

  “If not, I’ll be here, and so will the club.”

  “And Bishop?” She noticed his hands clenched around the steering wheel and he didn’t seem particularly thrilled with her question.

  “He’ll help where he can.”

  “It says a lot that I haven’t seen him.”

  “I’m not going to give you any warnings here, Robin, if that’s what you’re trying to get me to do.”

  “No warnings. I promise. I guess I just really want to know who I am. If I’m a good person. What I’m capable of. You know, all of the important stuff.”

  “It’ll come to you,” he said.

  “And if it doesn’t?” she asked, repeating the same broken record. She felt all she kept doing was going around in circles, coming back to the same original problem.

  “Then like your dad, I’ll be here to help you out.”

  She sighed. “I’m starving.” She’d hoped for at least one memory. Not a bunch of nonsensical words that meant absolutely nothing to her. “Can we go get something to eat?”

  “Of course.” He pulled away from the high school.

  “So you’re the president of the Twisted Monsters MC?” she asked.

  “I am.”

  “Do you like it?”

  “I do.”

  “Do you do bad things?”

  “I’m going to wait to see if you remember anything.”

  “I don’t mind. I won’t tell anyone.” She frowned. “O’Klaren.”

  Preacher tensed up.

  “Why do I know that name?” she asked. The word itself didn’t exactly evoke any other feeling than contempt and hatred.

  “He was an old problem. You don’t have to worry about him anymore. The last time he was seen, he was heading out with some woman younger than him.”

  “Oh. I have no idea what that was. It entered my head. I guess I better get used to all of these things happening.”

  “You’re not alone. You’ll always have us.”

  “I know. Thank you.”

  ****

  The days turned to weeks, and Robin continued her physical therapy. Preacher received regular updates from her therapist on how she was progressing. She also liked to talk to the therapist about random memories she was having. Most of the time, they didn’t mean anything. She recalled falling off her bike the other day, and Bishop being the one to carry her home. What she didn’t remember was how pissed Bishop had been with her when they were kids. He’d shoved the wheel of his bike into hers, forcing her off and nearly breaking her arm. Instead, she’d gotten a cut that required stitches. They’d only been kids at the time, but he’d been pissed.

  Late Saturday night, he sat in the office at one of the titty clubs he owned. He stared down at the facts and figures but he didn’t see anything. He had a lead he intended to follow the moment he dealt with a current problem. One of the girls was offering free services on the side. The men, they were after the cheap pussy, and well, Preacher didn’t allow that kind of action in his club. There was another service the woman could use, and he wasn’t about to have this establishment dragged through the dirt because of a greedy whore.

  The women had lodged a complaint. There were a lot of powerful and rich men who visited the establishment, which he’d placed in a rather sought-after area in the city. He rarely came to the city. Most of his businesses were taken care of by a select group of people he trusted. He only came when there needed to be muscle, and with his search for Robin, everything else had fallen by the wayside in his pursuit of finding the woman he loved. Tapping his fingers on the desk, he waited for Grave to get him the woman responsible for slowing him down.

  Frost stood in the corner, waiting, while Rider was on the sofa, looking through a magazine.

  “You have to give the bitch credit,” Rider said. “She’s got some balls to break our rules.”

  “It doesn’t give her balls. It makes her fucking stupid,” Frost said.

  The door opened and Preacher stared at a semi-clad woman. Her tits were hanging out and it looked like her panties had been pushed to one side.

  “What’s the meaning of this?” she asked, growling at each of them.

  Preacher raised his brow, sitting back in his chair and staring at the woman who dared to make him wait.

  “She had one customer fucking her and was blowing another.” Grave put a piece of paper on the table. “She makes them pay upfront by check.”

  “Check, that’s a rather old payment method.”

  “Yeah, well, they can’t click a button and keep their payment once it’s done.”

  “They can still stop checks, and they can even be writing you a duff one,” Preacher said. “Give me a damn good reason why you’re breaking my rules or Grave here is going to start breaking bones.”

  “Wait? What?” Since she’d entered the office, she finally looked afraid.

  “Darla, is it?”

  “Yeah, what’s it to you?”

  “Oh, it’s nothing to me. I’m just wondering why you think you can steal from me without any repercussions. It takes someone with a big old set of balls to even contemplate doing that, and yet, here we are and you’re shaking. Scared.”

  “I … I thought we were allowed to make a little extra money.”

  “Not in this establishment. You see, the men who come here, they have a certain bankability about them. Blackmail is such a dirty word, but if I want shit done, I have the right places to get it. You and your dirty mouth and cunt are going to draw attention I neither want nor need. Now, I’m going to give you a choice. Either you go and work at one of my other more selective places of work, where you don’t get to pick the cock you ride, or you walk out of here now. No pay. Nothing.”

  “That’s not a choice.” She cried out as Grave grabbed her hair, holding out her arm. She tried to struggle, but she was no match for Grave.

  Preacher walked behind the desk and stared at her. “You were warned. I’ve been made aware of the three warnings you were given about the way we conduct business. This is not your first offense. You didn’t listen and now you pay the price. What will it be?”

  She cried out as Grave hurt her a little more.

  He grew even more tired. “I’ll pick for you.”

  “I’ll work for you. Please, don’t break anything. I don’t want to be in pain.”

  “Excellent choice. Rider here will escort you to where you need to be.”

  Grave shoved her in the dire
ction of Rider, who didn’t catch her, so she stumbled to the floor.

  “I’ve got business to attend to. Give me an update when this is taken care of,” Preacher said, leaving the bar. He had no interest in the women or what they had to offer.

  Once outside, he got onto his bike, turning over the ignition and relishing the purr as it did. His bike never failed him, but other people, they had a way of disappointing him.

  Pulling away from the club, he took off in the direction Billy had given him. It was the last known location of Reaper, or at least, it hinted at it. An old abandoned factory.

  Two women were found, raped and murdered, no trace of the club, but there had been sightings of Slaves of the Beast there.

  Thinking about Reaper always brought him to Robin. She was making progress, but her memories had yet to return. Nothing had come back to her about O’Klaren even though she mentioned his name once several weeks ago.

  The cast on her foot would also be coming off in a matter of days. The therapy was working well, and she didn’t appear to be in as much pain either.

  Bear was struggling. He tried to devote his time between his daughter and the club. For Preacher, Robin would always come first, and all the guys knew how important it was to him to keep Robin safe. She was his number one priority. Always.

  Even with Bishop lurking at the edges of her life. So far, he hadn’t tried to take over and visit her all the time. He’d arrived a few times while Preacher had been there, but Bear assured him she was never alone with him.

  He shouldn’t even care, but something told him to keep Robin safe.

  Pushing the thoughts of his son to the back of his mind, he instead focused on the building up ahead. There were no bikes parked and Billy had assured him it was empty. He had contacts within the city’s police force who let him know it was completely clean.

  Parking his bike, he looked up at the old building and wouldn’t doubt for a second that Reaper had been using this place. The other biker rarely settled down, and it was strange for him to have stuck around near Knight’s Bridge for so long. It was a mistake Preacher had paid for.

  “There’s the police tape,” Grave said. “They were here.”

  “Two bodies were discovered. We don’t know if we can trust our contact, so keep your eyes peeled. Don’t leave anything to fucking chance. I don’t trust these assholes and neither should you.”

  Preacher got to the main door and twisted the doorknob. It opened easily. Billy had told him finding locksmiths or keys on buildings cost a fortune and most of the time, police tape kept people out. It was either the homeless or squatters they had to worry about.

  Bending down, he stepped inside, pulling out a flashlight. He looked left and right and saw no signs of anyone. There was silence as he first entered.

  “What exactly are we looking for?” Grave asked.

  “Any indication of where they went. Even if it’s just a receipt.” He stepped forward into the building. It was an old factory. Dust covered every surface and some pieces of old equipment were still in the room, but he didn’t know what the factory did before it closed down.

  There were six floors. “Split up. I’m going to head up to the top. Yell if you see anything,” Preacher said.

  In his experience, Reaper always liked to use the top floors. It never made any sense to him because at the top, you had to come down. Reaper once told him it gave him a chance to get away.

  For Preacher, the ground floor was the best get away, with at least three exits. If there was a front or back, always have a side entrance no one knew about. It was how he always got away without anyone following him. By the time they realized he wasn’t there or if he was, he was gone.

  He found the back stairs and he made his way up each flight. When he got to a floor, he’d stop to check inside each window that overlooked the floor.

  No one was there. Not a single sign of anyone.

  Moving up, he finally came to the sixth floor and stopped. He heard music. It was faint.

  Turning off his flashlight, he looked toward the window of the door. There in the center of the room were several computer screens, and someone sat behind them. Opening the door, Preacher slid through and listened. The man in question had music on so loud through headphones on his head, he couldn’t hear a thing.

  The man was typing at the keyboard at such a speed it would have easily given him a headache.

  He didn’t signal for his men.

  It looked like he’d somehow been able to use a portable battery in order to fire up the computers without giving off a signal the building was in use. He’d have to let Billy know his contact didn’t know jack shit about checking out the building to see if it was empty or not.

  Preacher stood for several minutes, watching what the man was doing. From the looks of it, he was looking for Robin. He didn’t know for sure, but he saw her name and then of course there were a couple of pictures of her from the hospital.

  He’d seen enough. Stepping forward, he grabbed the man’s head and slammed it forward.

  A cry filled the room. Preacher fisted his hair and pulled him away, spinning him around, and he slammed his fist against his face, hearing the crunch of bone. The sound sent a thrill down his spine.

  He wanted to hurt someone and this man, he may never have met Robin, but something in his gut told him he was working for Reaper to get her back. Anyone who worked for Reaper was on his shit list, and they had a very short life span once he got a hold of them.

  Hitting him again, he used his head to slam against one of the computers, smashing the screen.

  “Please, stop. Please, stop.”

  Preacher shoved him back down in the seat. “I’m guessing you weren’t expecting any visitors.”

  The man lifted his hand to his face and cried out. “You broke my nose.”

  “You shouldn’t be worried about your nose. It’s the least of your worries.”

  “What are you going to do?”

  “What am I going to do? It’s a loaded question, really. There’s a lot I really want to do, and I kind of need you to tell me what you’re doing looking at this girl on your pretty flashing screens.” He pointed to the picture of Robin.

  “I’ve been asked to keep an eye on her. That’s all. I’m just following orders, I swear. It doesn’t mean anything.”

  “Who’s telling you?”

  “Reaper. He wants to know what the girl is up to at all times. It’s important to him. I’m supposed to let him know when I see a chance for him to take her again.”

  Preacher hit him, once, twice, and a third time. No matter how many times he hit the man, the pleasure didn’t come. He wanted to feel something, to help ease this rage within him.

  The man cried out. “Please. I’m only doing what I’m supposed to do.”

  Grave and Frost arrived just as the man’s cell phone rang.

  “That’s him. He wants an update. I swear I don’t know what all of this is about. I’m new to all of this. I owe him a favor and this is what he asked of me. I don’t want no trouble. I promise. I’m a good guy.”

  Preacher didn’t believe him. A good guy didn’t sit in an abandoned old factory with a bunch of computers, hunting for a girl he didn’t know.

  Taking his cell phone from him, he clicked on accept call and put the device to his ear.

  “What do you have for me, Milo?”

  Preacher would recognize that voice from anywhere. It didn’t matter how many years ago it had been, or how long. That voice he’d been hunting for a long time now.

  “Hello, Reaper,” he said, putting the call to speakerphone.

  “Preacher, I should have known you’d find my contact.”

  He pulled on Milo’s hair and the guy screamed. “Did you promise him you’d protect him? I’ve got to say, Reaper, you’re not very good at keeping promises, but then as my memory serves, you never were. You were the kind of guy who dumped people into shit and ran.”

  “You’ve got Robin back.�
�

  “I do, and if you hold on just a moment—” He drew his knife and slashed it across Milo’s neck, killing him. The death didn’t give him any kind of solace at all. “I’ve just ended one of your sources of contact. If you think you can get to her again, you’re sorely mistaken. There is no way in hell I’m going to let you or any piece of shit near her.”

  Reaper laughed. “You know, you and your little crew are all running around trying to save her. To protect her. Have you ever considered she doesn’t want protection? I’ve had her for two years and she didn’t try to get away. Don’t you think she wants to be back with me?”

  “You think I haven’t seen the mess she’s in? I know what you did to her. The monster you are.”

  “It’s a funny thing about monsters, Preacher. It takes a one to know one.”

  “I know, which is why I know you’re not getting near her.”

  “One day, I’m going to have Robin back and I’m going to look into your eyes as she picks me over you.” The cell phone went dead.

  After throwing it to the floor, Preacher crushed the device beneath his boot. He grabbed the computers and smashed them, destroying any evidence of Robin. Once he was done, all he wanted to do was go home and fucking hold her.

  He couldn’t do that, though. She wasn’t his to hold or to have.

  “Are you okay?” Grave asked.

  “I want to make sure there is a guard with Robin at all times. Even when she’s in her house, I want someone with her to protect her.” He ran fingers through his hair.

  With Reaper seeming to be one step ahead of him, he had to do something to stay back in control. “I need to go see Dog.”

  “Wait,” Frost said, standing up. “We all know what you’re going to do. I understand you trust Dog, but this has got to be a club decision to bring him in.”

  “He’s not going to be a member of the club,” Preacher said.

  “Yeah, but you’re drawing our two worlds together and the guys need to vote on that before you do it. We’ll call church tomorrow, but you can’t just go and organize shit that will affect all of us. Having Dog’s crew in town or near us, it will bring heat with it, and the boys, they don’t want to deal with a whole lot of heat if they don’t need to. Got me?”