Call Me...Vengeance: Book 1 in the Vengeance MC Series (33 page)

“Anything else,” I ask abruptly.

“Tell me you’ve got a doc on standby, Boss because I don’t know what shape they’re in but I’m fucking sure they’re all gonna need one.”

Jesus, fuck. Beth. Avery. Bec. Fuck.

Shaking my head to dispel the images that are making their way into my brain and taking hold, I reply,

“He’s on route already. He’ll be there in ten. You don’t have anything else, Lord, I’m gonna have to go relay this to my brothers. We need to get on the road.”

“Nothing else,” he sighs. “Just hurry, yeah?”

Like we’d do anything but. Disconnecting, I scan the room until my eyes lock with Saints.

“Not good, brother, not fucking good at all. And now we know we’re in a time crunch, so we’ve gotta get the hell out of here. Lord’s got the side entrance covered, so someone call in and let the boys know.” Running my hands through my hair, I order, “Let him loose, and do it now.”

They know what that means, all of them, but it’s Spook that speaks up.

“You sure about that, Prez. That man went fucking gonzo when he found out and tore half the clubhouse apart before we could lock him down, letting him loose is a big fucking risk.”

A heavy hand falls on Spook’s shoulder,

“There’s only one reason Boss wants that boy loose, so use your fucking head and work it out,” Sarge rasps.

The man looks like he’s aged ten years in the last day, and it’s not a good look on him. Our usually laid back brother is feeling this just as much as Fury, Saint, Jonas, and I are, the strain of the last twenty-four hours ravaging his face.

“His anger is our best weapon. He might be fucking dangerous, but he’s not stupid. I’ve got no doubt we let him loose, he’ll have every last one of those fuckers eliminated before any of us can pull out our pieces,” I state. And I’d let him too.

“I’ve got him,” Gage declares. “Anything you want me to pass on?”

“Yeah. Tell him it’s not good, far from it, and to keep his shit together or I’ll see to it he’s in a fucking hole in the ground next to them once this is done. We don’t need any fuck ups here. None. He needs to lock it down tight.”

“On it,” Gage nods as he makes his way from the room.

Now there’s only one thing left to do; go get our women and pray we can fix whatever is broken in them.

With no windows in the room that I’m being held in I can’t tell what time of day is, or even if it
is
daytime. The artificial light, lack of sleep, hunger gnawing at my stomach, and the haze clouding the edges of my vision due to the blinding agony of my injuries is becoming so intense I can feel myself fading as each second ticks by.

I haven’t allowed myself to think too much about the fate of my friends. I can’t. If I go down that rabbit hole, there will be no coming back. For now, I have to focus on making it through whatever comes next, whatever these men, these animals have planned for me. Is it heartless for me to shut out the whimpers I’ve heard for hours coming from the room to my left, or the grunts of exertion coming from my right? Possibly, maybe, probably, but it’s all I can do to keep the remnants of my fractured mind intact.

My eyes are almost swollen shut now. I haven’t been able to open them more than a third of the way for a least half the time we’ve been held prisoner. Thankfully, the steady stream of blood flowing from my nose after the last hit I took has stopped because my stomach can’t handle me swallowing any more of the bitter, metallic liquid before it is forced to purge its contents.

The sound of the heavy, steel door scraping roughly across the cement floor has me snapping my head to the side to see who me newest tormentors are. Will this be someone I haven’t had the severe displeasure of meeting yet or have they already cycled through the men that are willing to beat and abuse a woman?

Gasping which causes me to wince, I do a double-take, scanning the two figures in front of me just to make sure I’m not hallucinating. My head shakes slowly side-to-side making black spots dance behind my eyes as the throbbing in my brain that I’ve been trying to stave off returns with a vengeance.

Smirking wickedly, a voice I never wanted to hear ever again not even in my worst nightmares, rings through my ears causing me to lean carefully to the side and vomit at my feet.

“Now, Bethany, is that any way to greet an old friend?” He asks, leering at me.

Not knowing what to do or how to answer his asinine question, I keep silent praying that he’ll say whatever it is he feels the need to so that he can leave, and hopefully take her with him.

Apparently he doesn’t expect an answer, instead, he signals for a man who I assume is standing just outside the door to bring in a chair which he places directly opposite me.

“I’ve waited a long time to see you again, Bethany. I searched for you after our wonderful night together, but sadly I couldn’t locate you. Not until my other special friend here enlightened me as to your whereabouts,” he says gesturing to the woman leaning against the wall. “I have to say, I was actually shocked when she informed me you got involved with a motorcycle gang in some hick town in Colorado. Honestly, Bethany, I expected better of you. Are you not aware of the sorts of people you are associating with? Do you not know how dangerous they are? They are criminals, degenerates, fucking animals for Christs sake. A woman of your standing and breeding has no business dragging her family name through the mud, especially not a woman whose name is attached to my family’s in any way.”

Cupping my chin in the palm of his hand, an uncontrollable shudder wracks my body at his touch. His soft hands disgust me. As does the false gentleness he handles me with. I know this isn’t him because he isn’t capable of showing any measure of kindness that isn’t for appearances sake. His fingers trail over the hinge of my jaw, caressing the fist-sized bruises almost reverently.

The woman that has moved deeper into the room standing close to his side snaps at him impatiently in her nasal tone that sounds more like nails down a chalkboard than a woman of her age should.

“Can we please get this over and done with, Oliver? Our plane departs in less than four hours and we still have to go back to the hotel to pack. Haven’t we wasted enough time on this bitch yet. You’ve had your fun, or, at least, your lackeys have, and I’m pretty sure Jackson will have no interest in the slut when he sees the state she’s in.”

Oliver’s glittering eyes, ones that are filled with warning and menace leave mine piercing her with a hostile glare.

“We have plenty of time, and like you said; my lackeys have had their piece of my prize but I have yet to partake. Now, Laura, run along and amuse yourself with one of the other two women or any of the men who would be more than happy to entertain you for an hour or so. I have some catching up to do with the once beautiful, Bethany.”

“You have got to be joking?” Laura seethes. “This is not what we agreed on. You promised once she was detained and taught a lesson you would finally be able to let her go.” Waving her hand at me dismissively, Laura adds, “Look at her. Take a long hard look and tell me that you don’t think she’s learned the lesson you meant to teach her. I don’t think she’ll ever be able to forget, Olly. Every time she looks in the mirror, she will she the evidence of her desertion, so please, please can we just
go
,” Laura pouts, stressing the word go.

If I didn’t want to kick her ass so much myself, I would have warned her that Oliver isn’t a man who takes demands well. But seeing as it’s become pretty fucking obvious that she has something to do with our imprisonment and torture, she is due everything she has coming to her.

Standing, Oliver makes it to her in one long stride. He snags her wrist, and jerks her into his frame roughly until he can bend so that he is at eye level with her, snarling,

“You don’t tell me when I’m done, I calling the fucking shots here. We might fuck on occasion, and for the most part, it’s passable at best, but that does not give you the right to think you can lead me around by my cock and tell me what to do.”

Laura looks shocked by his outburst, which at any other time might have seen me laugh at the cartoonish expression on her face. Her eyes are wide and dilated, her mouth agape and her free hand is pressed to her chest over her heart. However, seeing as we are not in another place at another time, I can only scoff noiselessly because seriously, if she thought he was a gentleman, a man of class and good breeding, Laura is dumber than I gave her credit for. And trust me, I gave her ample credit the second I met her.

“I-I’m sorry, Olly. I didn’t mean it that way. I meant to say that, I don’t think there is anything else you can do here that hasn’t already been done. After all, she can barely breathe without flinching,” she reasons ineffectively.

Little does she know, Oliver Markham can do plenty more damage, and I have no doubt that the moment she leaves the room he will.

Oliver tightens his grip on her wrist, tugging her even closer if that was possible, spitting,

“I intend to spend some time getting reacquainted with my little pet here, Laura, which means you have two choices. Either you can go and amuse yourself upstairs, or you can go back to the hotel and as you pointed out; pack. While you’re at it, you may as well get my things together for me too.”

Laura and I had never been friends in school. We were at the same private schools together from kindergarten until the day I disappeared, and not once during all those years had she been kind to me. Her outward display of hatred toward me didn’t start until second grade, but every year that went past her determination to humiliate, embarrass, and make my life a living hell increased.

At first, it was simple yet spiteful notes in my desk or cubby, progressing to pushing, shoving, and elbowing, me as she passed by in the halls. By the time we hit high school it was a thousand fold worse, but I never told a soul. I didn’t want to be known as the girl who could fight her own battles. If Laura and eventually her posse of mean girls hadn’t trapped me in a storage closet one afternoon after the bell had gone and taken turns slapping, kicking, pulling my hair, and spitting on me, no one would have known what I was going through. Unfortunately for them, that time the janitor needed something and came in before they could do any lasting damage.

I had no idea, and still don’t, why she hates me so much, enough to deliver me into the hands of a monster that is. We may have grown up in the same circles, our parents were business acquaintances, but I hadn’t had much cause to speak to her other than polite hello in passing.

Finding out Laura and Oliver had some kind of connection didn’t come as a surprise, not really. They were two peas in a pod when it came to cruelty. In a sick, disturbing way they fit each other. My only fear now is how much worse that is going to make whatever they have planned for me.

Approaching me confidently, Laura tosses her hair behind her, her eyes never leaving Oliver.

“Fine, I’ll leave but not before I say everything I’ve wanted to say to her for weeks now.”

The slight incline of his head signals her to go ahead, and go ahead she does.

“Did you know that Jackson and I had a long-term relationship?” I had, he told me as much, but I neither confirm or deny it for her. She doesn’t need me to. “Did he tell you that we were going to have a child together? Did he cry when he told you our child died at birth?”

Everything inside me aches for Jackson. The painful burn of her words shred another piece of my heart at the knowledge he was going to have a baby, make a family and a home with this horrible woman. And the answer to her question is, no. I didn’t know they had been that close. Why would I, Jackson and I had only been together a little less than two months? Men like Jackson don’t share their suffering, they’re stronger than that. Or at least, they think they have to be. I wouldn’t be surprised if – under ordinary circumstances – it would have taken him months, if not years to open up to me about his child.

But nothing about us is normal, nothing about Jackson is normal, so as her words sink in, imprinting themselves on my soul, I feel his betrayal wrap around me like a blanket. It shouldn’t, I should understand why he wouldn’t have wanted to share this with me, but I don’t, and this is something I can hold on to. It’s something that will keep me protected. From them and myself. Especially from Jackson.

“Oh, I can see by the look on your face he didn’t tell you,” she giggles, clapping her hands together in glee. “There’s no point in keeping it a secret now is there, because if he doesn’t know by now, he will soon.”

Blinking a drop of blood away, I ask,

“Is there a point to this story? Jackson and your history has nothing to do with why I’m here as far as I can tell, other than you being a spiteful, malicious bitch, so if you could get on with story hour that would be good.” I try for nonchalance, but the words come out broken and raspy.

“You’re right, but I thought you would want to know before Olly takes care of you once and for all,” she replies cocking her head.

“Enough,” Oliver thunders. “If you want the chance to tell her, do it now. I have very little time to spend with her before we have to leave, and I would prefer to spend that taking part in much more pleasurable pursuits.”

“Of course,” Laura nods sagely agreeing with him. Piercing me with her sky blue eyes filled with hatred and a glimmer of excitement, she informs me, “Jackson was so sure she was his. I was positive I would have to convince him of it, and I would have. We needed him focused on the loss of what he thought was his child, not what was happening behind the scenes.”

“Why,” I whisper.

“Why what? Why did I use Olly and my child to distract him, or why am I telling you this?” She asks grinning snidely. Without my waiting for an answer, she goes on to say, “Olly needed some space to get his business done, and Jackson was getting to close to some of the people he was dealing with. It wouldn’t do to have those low-life criminals getting too close.” Glaring at me she spits, “Do you know how many times I had to fight back the urge to gag when he was fucking me. Biker filth like that doesn’t deserve to fuck class.”

Muttering to herself, she stills and continues on,

“I would wash him off me every time he left he repulsed me that much. I don’t know how you can bring yourself to willingly fuck him without an agenda, but I suppose a woman like you isn’t really classy, is she? I’ve always known you were a slut it just took a dirty biker to bring it out in you.”

“Fuck you,” I yell.

Snapping her eyes to Oliver’s, Laura ignores his look of warning stalking toward my until she’s only half a foot away. Her mistake was crouching in front of me because after hours of struggling my ankles are numb from the pain of the cuffs cutting into my flesh, so when I jerk forward throwing myself at her, I feel nothing.