Alone, like I had felt for the last few years of my relationship with him.
“So?” I asked as I shrugged. “Do we have a deal? Me, for my father’s life?”
“It’ll be easy to get the old man to shut his mouth if his kid’s life is at stake,” the man behind me said.
“Yes,” I said breathlessly, “listen to him. My Dad? I’m everything he’s got. I’m all he’s got, at this point. Ever since my mother’s death. You take me, and you can get that man to do anything.”
Maybe then, they’d keep me alive, just to keep my father under control.
I was shocked when the big man didn’t even hesitate.
“Deal,” Behemoth said with a wild smirk. “But, we’re going to make sure your father knows that if he calls the police or comes after you in any way? You’rebothdead.”
“Perfect,” the man behind me snickered.
“Wait, what? No! Leave him alone! Leave him out of this!” I shrieked. “You can kill me, just leave him out of this!”
But, Behemoth simply gripped my cheeks and forced my gaze to his. “If you fight, you’re both dead. If you upset me, you’re both dead. If he calls the police, or sends someone after you, him and you are both dead. Those are my terms, you snide little girl, and if you don’t like them? Then, you should’ve thought twice before getting involved.”
3
RANGER
“Come on,” Dutch grunted as he dragged the girl toward me, “just a bit more. Yep. There you go. See, was that so hard?”
I noticed his fingers curling into the girl’s skin, his lean muscles within his body fighting every cell inside to keep her at bay. Hell, even if I’d had my hands on her, she would have made me struggle. A small little thing, with tits flying about and hair waving in the wind she created with her own force. She had fire in her veins, I’d give her that. But, Dutch handled more than his body made others assume. Fucking Christ, even as he held the girl at bay with her flailing legs and her blood-gathering fingernails, he stood still as a stone, his voice harsh in my ear.
“Are you kidding?” he snarled. “Her for him? That wasn’t the job.”
I flickered my gaze toward him. “It’s not like the guys are staying at the clubhouse right now. So, you tell me, then.”
He blinked. “Tell you what? That the guys are gonna kill you when they get back and find some girl in our--?”
I turned my entire body to face his. “What the fuck we’re gonna do with a sick man? Huh?”
Dutch glared at me. “He’s not the one that ruined our job.”
I tilted my head. “If his kid’s in trouble, he’ll be more willing to cooperate. Besides, it’s not like the clubhouse is full. Remember? It’s Hell Week. The guys never stay at the house during Hell Week.”
He blinked. “Yeah, I can see that.”
Trooper sighed. “We should be at Hell Week. I love Hell Week. It’s my favorite week of the year. Crews gathering. Bonfires raging. Pissing off police ensuing. Why aren’t we at Hell Week again?”
Dante snickered. “Because we like getting paid more than we like getting laid.”
“Sure about that?” Troop asked with a chuckle.
“Hey, at least Hell Week’s in our area this week,” I barked. “So, shut the fuck up and quit giving me guff. If we get into deep shit, the guys are right there, assholes.”
Dutch rolled his eyes. “Sure, if that’s what you wanna think. But, I still think this is a shit idea.”
I turned my back to him and headed for the front door. “Good thing I didn’t ask your opinion.”
I stuck my hand out the door, waving down Trooper. I needed that big ol’ bastard to come back with that man. I watched as he pulled out of the shadows of a meadow of trees right across the road. As if the location were calling for the darkness to hide within it. The van eased onto the road before pulling into the driveway, right behind the car our little lick of fire had driven into our trap. And as he threw open the driver’s side door, he hopped out.
Before shrugging his hands into the air. “The fuck, Ranger? We were supposed to be out of here three minutes ago.”
I waved him in. “Get in here before someone sees you.”
