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  “Hollywood?”

  I focused my attention on Lainey. I had to deal with her shit before I could get to my own. “What, babe?”

  “Why are those two men glaring at me?”

  I looked up. Gravedigger and Gunner, the Oklahoma chapter enforcer, stood in the entrance, their entire attention focused on Lainey. What the fuck? I stood up, the barstool scraping against the floor. That’s the only reaction I had time for. Gunner had Lainey’s arm, dragging her toward the back exit. Digger had me wrapped up, with help from Smoke, Radar, and Bull. They took me to the floor.

  “Don’t fight, bro,” Gravedigger ordered. “I don’t want to fucking hurt you.”

  “What the hell?”

  “Russian’s orders, Wood.”

  That only made me fight harder. Digger got his arm around my neck and squeezed. “Dammit, Wood. He’s not gonna kill her. He fucking knows you mated her. But we gotta get answers. She played us. She’s workin’ for the Hell Dogs.”

  Chapter 18

  Lainey

  HOLLYWOOD GOING DOWN beneath a pile of Nightriders was the last glimpse I had of him. The guy dragging me out was tall, dark, and silent. Plus scary. Very, very scary!

  “Let me go.” I struggled, completely ineffectively. He didn’t even bother to tighten his grip on my arm. He just tugged me along, pushed me out through a door and then everything went black. He’d hooded me. I screamed, but the sound was choked off as a heavy hand clamped over my mouth.

  I’d never been claustrophobic—not that I’d known but now? I kicked. I used my right arm, flailing with my cast, not caring when I connected with my attacker…or attackers. More than one voice penetrated my panic. An arm circled my waist and picked me up. I tried to kick backwards but strong hands grabbed my ankles, shackled them with fingers that felt like iron.

  I knew I was crying, knew I was hyperventilating, knew I’d pass out if I didn’t control myself. I was smart. I needed to calm down and focus. I forced my muscles to relax completely so that I slumped. Whoever held my feet let go and I was hoisted into a man’s arms. Moments later, my kidnappers stuffed me in the backseat of a big SUV. I remained limp as someone climbed in beside me and rested a hand on my hip. I bit the insides of my cheeks to keep from tensing up. They needed to believe I was unconscious so they’d feel free to talk. Only then could I plan for my escape.

  “Russki wants to question her then we’ll cut her loose.” A voice I didn’t recognize, but belonging to the man whose hand kept me from rolling off the seat every time the driver took a corner.

  “Maybe we should use her for bait. Catch us some Hell Dogs.” Another strange voice, coming from the front seat.

  “Pisses me off she trapped Hollywood.” A third voice, also sitting in the front. I didn’t understand any of the things they were talking about. I’d finally figured out that the Hell Dogs were a rival motorcycle gang and they were even worse than the Nightriders. How could I be used as bait? I had nothing to do with them. And what did that jerk mean I’d trapped Hollywood? How?

  “Can’t choose who our mates are.” The man touching me. And he was using that m-word again. Wait! My heart started hammering and I couldn’t help the gasp that followed. “Chill it. Bitch is awake.”

  I stiffened. My hands weren’t restrained so I reached for the hood. A hand griped my wrist and I cried out, shuddering. He wasn’t really hurting me but the flashback to the night of my injury overwhelmed everything. I went into total meltdown mode.

  “What the fuck?”

  The hood whipped off my head and I blinked blearily, even though it was dark outside the vehicle. Tears streamed down my cheeks and my bottom lip was bloody. I could taste copper from where I’d chewed on it trying to keep quiet. I gulped in huge gasps of air. Then I was wrenched up to a sitting position a second before my head was forced between my knees.

  “You two gonna enlighten me?”

  One of the guys in the front cleared his throat. “Her arm. And stuff. I guess.”

  “PTSD maybe?” the driver added helpfully.

  “Breathe,” the guy next to me ordered.

  The door next to me opened and the next thing I knew, the Russian was leaning in. He grabbed my chin and jerked my head around to face him.

  “Why did you betray us? Betray Hollywood?”

  I sniffled and really needed to wipe my nose but my hands were caught and so was my head. “I d-don’t know what you’re t-talking about. How d-did I betray you?”

  “You are working with the Hell Dogs.”

  “I don’t know any Hell Dogs,” I wailed.

  The Russian stuck his nose against my neck and inhaled deeply. I shivered. He released me and rocked back. “Interesting,” he said. “Her brothers are already in route. Take her home. We are done with them.”

  Done with them? I balled up my fist and pounded against the Russian’s chest—his really hard chest that would probably leave bruises on the heel of my hand. “If you hurt my brothers—”

  He grabbed my fist and I froze. The look on his face was utterly terrifying and I knew. I saw exactly what he was. Feral. A predator. He’d kill me without a second’s regret. I couldn’t breathe.

  “We do not harm innocent children.” He stood up, dropping my hand. “You have made your bed, Lainey Walker. Now you will live or die in it.”

  I blinked and he was gone, the door already closed. I choked on every breath I took. What had just happened? No one spoke as the SUV picked up speed. Twenty minutes later, we rolled to a stop in front of my house. Lights were on inside. Mom’s car was in the driveway. So was mine. The Nightriders were nothing if not efficient. Bastards.

  Not waiting for permission or help, I pushed open the door and clamored out. I almost tripped over the curb but hands steadied me. Tall, dark, and deadly again.

  “You’re on your own, girl.”

  I glared up at him. “So what else is new? I’ve always been on my own.”

  He studied me, unblinking. “No more Nightrider protection.”

  I shoved my cast in his face. “This is what Nightrider protection got me.”

  The front porch light flickered on and I turned my back on the man. Marching up the broken concrete to the front door was an exercise in balance. I stopped on the front step and turned back. The man still stood there, door open but no interior light shone to silhouette him. My insides turned liquid again and my lip quivered.

  “T-t-tell Hollywood t-t-to eat shit and d-d-die. I’m d-done. We’re done.” My voice grew stronger. “I never want to see him again. He’s dead to me.”

  NO MORE NIGHTRIDER PROTECTION.

  I found out what that meant 48 hours later. A certified letter from the hospital was hand delivered. The entire amount of my emergency room, surgery, and hospitalization was now due, payable in full. $45,216.98. Let me just cash out a few CDs, maybe sell some stock, and I’d get right on paying that. At least my sarcasm gene had remained intact.

  Mom’s response was to dump the twins on me and head to the casino. Her debts had continued to pile up, as I discovered when two thugs kicked in the front door.

  I had the phone in my hand, dialing 9-1-1, when they walked into the living room. Levi charged one, Louie the other. Both of my brothers yelped as they were backhanded. I was screaming at the men to get out when the 9-1-1 operator connected.

  “Get out! Hello? Hello?” I yelled at the phone.

  “What is your emergency?”

  “Two men broke in. They hit my little brothers. I think—”

  “Put the phone down, bitch.” I looked up to see a very large pistol pointed at me. The second guy had some sort of gun—like from a spy movie—swinging the barrel from one twin to the other.

  I whispered into the phone, “They have guns. Please hurry.” I dropped the receiver.

  “You’re behind on your payments. The boss ain’t happy.”

  “I…I have some money. I’ll give you all I have but I have to go get it. I can meet you later. Just go away. Don’t hurt my br
others.”

  One of them looked me up and down and my skin crawled. “Boss says you can work off your old lady’s debt.”

  “How?” The word came out as a bare whisper.

  “You got tits and a cunt, a mouth and a hole in your ass. Plenty of dick that’ll pay. You spread your legs and whatever else the boss wants, the debts’ll stay current.”

  Wait. No. Not current. They’d continue to give my mother gambling money. I’d never get what she owed paid off.

  “Your pussy n’ass’ll keep your brother in meth and your old bitch in chips.” The guy reached down and grabbed Levi. “And these two can keep breathin’.”

  Sirens wailed in the distance. My call must have stayed connected. Help was coming. Levi hit the floor with a thump as the thug released him. “Talk to the cops, we’ll burn your fuckin’ house down around your ears.” Then they were gone.

  By the time the police arrived, I was numb. The twins were terrified and hiding behind me. I could only shake my head at every question the officer asked.

  “Mistake,” I finally managed. “I shouldn’t have called. I’m sorry to have troubled you.”

  The younger cop looked sympathetic and kept urging me to make a statement. The older one just got impatient. They left finally. I got the boys into bed. I fixed the door the best I could using a hammer, some nails, and a screwdriver. Then I grabbed Larry’s old baseball bat, pulled a chair up in front of the door, sat and waited.

  Chapter 19

  Hollywood

  I WAS ABOUT two seconds from going rogue. The Russian told me to stay away from Lainey, that if I didn’t, he’d rip out my throat. Fuck. She was my mate and my wolf was ready to chew my hand off to get to her. I needed to find out what was going on. Lainey was holding out on me. Every time I’d asked for a full explanation of her situation, she danced around the subject. And the Nightriders were my family. They’d taken me in as a kid, raised me. They had my absolute loyalty.

  Ours. Mate, my wolf insisted. Yeah. I was fucking screwed. I had two choices. I could stay and play nice as a loyal Nightrider or I could go rogue, claim my mate—who might have betrayed me, and get our asses as far away, as fast as we could go. I’d be on the Nightriders’ Most Wanted list for the rest of my life. I was considering it.

  I heard a woman crying and my heart rate tripled. Lainey. If they’d hurt her, all bets were off. I barged into the basement room beneath the clubhouse. A man was spread-eagled on the wall, blood dripping from places where his skin had been peeled off. A woman in a skimpy denim skirt and black bra was tied in a wooden chair.

  Candy-red hair. Curls. Not Lainey. I breathed around the burning in my chest. The Russian, standing just inside the door, glanced over his shoulder. “You should not be here, Hollywood.”

  My lip curled up in a snarl, and I would have taken a swing at my Alpha, but he turned to face me. The regret in his expression kicked me in the gut. He pushed me out of the room and the rusted iron scent of blood clogged my nose. Russki wore a black T-shirt and while I couldn’t see the bloodstains, I could smell them. His shirt was soaked. I continued to watch him, my wolf gnawing on my gut. He wanted out to claw and bite, shredding the man standing before us, Alpha or not.

  Russki dropped his chin to his chest and rubbed the back of his neck in a gesture conveying regret, one that was completely out of character. “We do not choose our mates, Hollywood. If yours has truly betrayed us, I will lock you up in order to do what needs to be done. You know this, yes?”

  I could only nod, my throat too constricted to speak. If Lainey had betrayed the club—betrayed me… No. I couldn’t go there.

  “The other dancer made the allegations. She has been at Chasin’ Tail for much longer and without the suspicious circumstances. We will question her further. She maintains that she has no boyfriend, that Lainey pressured her to relinquish the appointment with Lug Nut. She says Lainey spoke often of a boyfriend, one well-connected, and that Lainey was only dancing to get information.”

  Arms circled my chest, clamping my arms to my sides. Good thing. I was ready to either take on the Russian or put my fist through the concrete wall.

  “You need to take gate duty, Wood.”

  Gravedigger. I had about as much chance taking him out as I did the Russian. I jerked my chin toward the guy shackled on the wall. “Who’s he?”

  Easy held up a patched leather jacket. A horned dog. He indicated the hysterical woman with a tilt of his head. “She says he’s Lainey’s boyfriend.”

  Claws sliced through my fingertips and my joints started to pop. I was an instant away from changing. Digger still held me immobile and Russki grabbed my jaw, forcing me to look into his eyes.

  “You will not do this.” His voice had the bite of cold steel and there was no way I could disobey. “You will go with Gravedigger and do your duty to the club. If the Hell Dogs come, I need you on the gate. Do you understand?”

  He read my answer in my eyes and released my face. He nodded to Digger and that fast I was free.

  “You’ll need a slicker. It’s rainin’ like a sonavabitch out there.”

  I snarled and pushed past Digger. Great. I’d go stand in the fucking rain and feel sorry for myself. My fucking mate was fucking some asshole who was a Hell Dog. I’d kill her myself if the Russian didn’t.

  Lainey

  I HAD TO BREATHE, had to control the panic threatening to cripple me. They’d come back while I was gone. I’d left the twins home alone. Idiotidiotidiot! I knuckled tears from my eyes. I didn’t have time for tears. My brothers were missing, a note left behind saying, “Time’s up.” They’d left instructions and it wasn’t pimping me out that they wanted this time. They wanted me to go to Chasin’ Tail and doctor the books. They wanted me to set up Hoss and the Nightriders.

  Hollywood, all of them, had deserted me. Those thugs had written their message on the back of my hospital bill just to make their point. I should just do it. In all the crap that had gone down, Hoss had forgotten to take my keys. I’d bet they hadn’t changed the locks, or deleted my alarm code. I’d started going in early in the morning, after taking the twins to school so I could work without interruption.

  And now this. I was driving in the rain like a maniac. Raining? No, not just raining, it was pouring. Buckets. The windshield wipers shuddered, as if they couldn’t push the water off the glass. My headlights flickered as they illuminated the river of water rushing through the low spot in the road.

  Turn around, don’t drown. The warning words buzzed through my brain as I stopped the car. The engine coughed and with my foot on the brake, I revved the motor. It coughed again. Died. Damn it, damn it, damn it. I slammed my hand against the steering wheel.

  Here I was, stuck on a dark road on the edge of town. After midnight and not another set of headlights in sight. I wasn’t even certain of where I was going. I had only a vague idea of how to find the place I was headed.

  I had 24 hours to fix the books or my little brothers would be delivered to me in bits and pieces until I’d done as they wanted. I had no idea who they were or why they wanted so badly to take the Nightriders down. I didn’t care. I just wanted my brothers back safe and sound. And I wanted away from those men. They wouldn’t leave me alone once I did this. They’d keep coming back for more until I had nothing left to give them. There was only one thing I could do.

  Cranking the starter, I pumped the gas pedal, praying my car would start. It whined, coughed, caught then chugged a couple of times and died. I grabbed my phone, pressed the button to wake it up. Nothing. No car. No phone. No time. No choice. I’d have to walk.

  I searched through the car. No raincoat. No umbrella. Great. Looking out the window, I realized more water was flowing along the street, and it was creeping up almost to the bumper of my car. I had to get out or risk getting washed away. Pushing open the door, a gushing waterfall of rain drenched me. Stumbling, I clutched the door to stay on my feet. I had to get to high ground. I noticed flickering lights way down the interse
cting street. Maybe I could find help there. Time was running out for my brothers.

  Ten minutes, an hour, I couldn’t tell how long I’d been trudging through the storm, but I finally reached the entrance gate. Locked. Of course it was. I yelled, tried to rattle the bars. A figure in a black slicker emerged from a gatehouse.

  “My car died. The storm,” I shouted. “Can I use your phone?”

  The hood slid back. Hollywood. By pure dumb luck, I’d found my way to Nightriderland—and the man I never wanted to see again, but whose help I desperately needed.

  “Love the wet T-shirt look, babe.”

  I’m sure he did. I wasn’t wearing a bra, it was freaking cold and I was drenched.

  “But the whole drowned rat thing? Yeah, not a good look on you.” Hollywood smirked and I curled the fingers of my left hand, wanting to hit him.

  “Gee, thanks,” I muttered at the same time I realized his voice was hard, and as cold as I was standing out here in the rain.

  His smirk got bigger as he unlocked and opened the gate just wide enough for me to slip through. He grabbed my right arm, lifted it.

  “Dammit, babe, you got your cast wet.” Emotion flashed in his eyes and then was gone, his expression settling back into hard lines.

  “Duh. Raining buckets and gallons out here.”

  He let out a piercing whistle and within moments, two guys jogged up. “On the gate,” he ordered.

  The two stared at me but didn’t say a word as Wood hustled me toward the…what was this building? An old train station? It was built of gray granite and looked Art Deco. Wow. I headed for the wide double doors on the front, but Hollywood steered me to the right. He guided me around the side and across an open space toward a second building that resembled a dormitory. Turned out, that’s what it was.