“What’s up?” I look at Piper and then to Bobby, second-guessing telling him Cherry is in danger in front of her.
“We got a problem, is all,” I inform, starting my bike.
Bobby hands Piper a helmet that is way too big for her and helps her on. I think about telling Piper to get on my bike, but rethink that idea. I’d be too nervous with her on my bike and likely kill us both. It’s best if she rides with Bobby. He’s ridden Doc’s daughter around before, so he knows how to handle a kid on a bike.
“You go slow with her, goddamn it.” I point at him, my tone threatening. Bobby smirks and starts his bike. Who knew I’d like a kid, that I would be protective of her as if she were my own.
“No problem.”
CHERRY
The van rocks back and forth, and rock music is blasting loudly so I can’t hear anything. I have no idea where I am. My heart beats rapidly in my chest, the adrenaline pulsing through me, making me high. I clench my eyes shut, tears threatening to spill. Lip will come for me. The club will save me. I will see Piper again.
The van comes to a stop, and the music is shut off. Silence fills the air and is more deafening than the rock music. My body trembles in fear as I hear the doors to the back of the van being opened. Hands grab me and pull me from the van but I fight back, kicking and screaming to get free.
“Jesus Christ, this one’s squirrelly,” a man says, his voice thick with an accent.
The bag is ripped from my head and I blink a couple of times, my vision blurry from sitting in the darkness. A rusted, metal building sits behind a bunch of guys, one streetlight shining barely enough to see in front of me.
“Do you know who I am?” a rough voice asks. I squint, trying to make out the man standing in front of me. He has scruff lining his tanned cheeks and the top of his hair is pulled into a ponytail, with the rest of his head shaved. He’s big and tattooed. “Well?” he continues.
“No,” I mutter, eyeing him from head to toe. If I didn’t hate him so much right now, I’d be attracted to him. He’s sexy in a menacing kind of way.
He pats at his patch. “Zeek, the name’s Zeek,” he informs. I shrug, still not knowing who the fuck he is.
“Really, lil bro never told you about me? I’m hurt.” He laughs, sarcasm dripping from his voice. I shake my head confused. Lil bro? My eyes suddenly perk. Lip. Zeek is Lip’s brother. My eyes shoot to his.
“Aw, so you do know who I am.” He grins. Lip told me how much he disliked his brother, how his brother was like his father. Evil. My heart sinks further into the pit of my stomach. I’m screwed.
“I’m the president of the Sin City Outlaws, and right now, I own your ass,” he sneers, pointing at me.
I scoff. “Fuck you,” I grit bravely.
His brows furrow in and his jaw clenches. “You will respect me, bitch,” he seethes.
I scowl, but I don’t say anything.
“I think she needs to learn her place around here, brother.” Another man chuckles, walking up beside Zeek. He has thick, black hair and really tanned skin.
“Bow to my president.” He points to the ground.
“I don’t bow for any man,” I whisper, swallowing hard.
“Wrong answer,” the thick-haired man growls. He stomps forward and kicks me hard in the back of the knees. My legs give out and I fall knees-first into the ground. I want to holler out with pain, but I won’t give them the satisfaction of knowing they hurt me.
“Looks like you’re bowing to me now, but I’m not just any man.” Zeek squats in my line of sight and smiles hard. “I’m the fucking king of Las Vegas, baby,” he states proudly. I turn my head, not wanting to give him eye contact.
“You’re going to be a dead king,” I mutter, staring off into the darkness. Hands grip my chin, pulling me to look into Zeek’s dark eyes.
“You sure do have a mouth on you, putana.” His teeth grit together. I jerk my head from his fingers, nearly falling over in the process.
“What now, boss?” one guy asks.
“We wait. Lip will call soon.”
The guys stand around smoking, some talking in English, others in another language. I hear a familiar giggle, and my eyes shoot toward the crowd. Two guys shift on their feet and my eyes land on Dolly. That fucking traitor. She smiles and looks my way. Her grin quickly fades, and she purses her lips as she walks toward me.
“Well, well,” she taunts, sashaying.
“You’re a dead bitch,” I snarl.
She flips her hair over her shoulder and laughs.
“Yeah, keep telling yourself that, honey. I don’t think you realize who you’re messing with.”
“You’re a fucking traitor, club-hopping like the whore you are.” I smirk, but she just smiles wider.
“You don’t get it, do you. I’ve been with the Sin City Outlaws this whole time, relaying info about Lip back to Zeek.” She tilts her head to the side and gives me a sympathetic smile. “I’d do anything for Zeek,” she mutters.