Coop (Reckless Souls MC 1)

Everyone is outside. Nova. Preacher. Devon and Luca, plus the other prospect, Angel. Joaquin is noticeably absent, but I don’t question it because that’s Ace’s job. All of my brothers are here, lined up and ready to head into battle to help me get my girl.

If she’s still alive.

I shake off that thought, load up with as many weapons and ammo as I can handle without impeding my movements. We hop on our bikes, a van following behind us, and head out to kick some ass, bust some skulls, and kill some Iron Kings.

Not necessarily in that order because my fingers itch to take out Hector. It would kill two birds with one bullet.

The bullet will avenge Kelsey and obliterate the problem of Hector and his bullshit MC.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Kelsey

The ringing in my ears won’t stop. It’s not even a ringing, more like a loud whistling sound that covers every other noise, including the shrill screams coming from my own mouth.

“Oh God, why?”

I don’t expect an answer, of course, because these men are vile. They’re monsters of the darkest kind, willing to commit unspeakable acts, all in the name of accumulating money and power.

I squeeze my eyes closed, nice and tight, so not even a hint of light can sneak through. I don’t want to see what’s happening to me or what will happen next. It’s bad enough I can’t mute the sound of Santos’ voice, his deep wicked laugh, his disgusting words.

I can’t make my body go numb, even though it’s already halfway there, to wipe away the pain of some stinky man fucking me, plunging his sleazy cock in and out of me. If I live past today, I know I’ll never get over the feeling of his jizz dripping down my thighs, the rotten scent of these men pawing at me, having their way with me.

God, please let me die.

I’m afraid to move with Nogales holding the rope so tight around my neck. Breathing isn’t easy, so I have to take short, gasping breaths to avoid passing out, and then I wonder why I’m trying to avoid passing out.

Maybe that’s just the anesthetic I need to forget this day, to just wake up bruised and bloody and broken with no real memories of what’s happened to me. Maybe that would be best.

I want to not feel any of this, but on the heels of that thought comes another invading sensation between my legs.

The nonstop ringing in my ears is disconcerting, so I try to open my eyes. Glutton that I am, I need to know what’s happening to me and what’s going on around me.

The first thing I see is Hector’s face, evil and handsome all at once, less than an inch from mine. There’s a gleam in his eyes as some man pulls my legs up higher and slides his dick in me.

He says something, but it’s muffled, barely audible at all, but I already know it’s smug and revolting because that’s who Hector Santos is.

“Sweet little cunt,” is all I can make out through the ringing and lip-reading.

“Ow!” The cry of pain escapes before I can push it back down, but the feel of his rough knuckles scraping against me is too much for me to handle.

Santos laughs, and I can feel the vibrations of Nogales laughing behind me. His jostling moves the rope until I’m breathing through my nose to avoid passing out.

Make up your fucking mind, girl. Do you want to stay awake or pass out?

I don’t have an answer for that, but I force myself to keep my eyes open, to take in every detail just in case I make it out of here.

“Stop!” I say as loud as I can, so loud I can just about hear myself.

Hector flashes another smile and leans in really close to my ear not ringing from the gunshot.

“I won’t stop, not until my boys have split you from one end to the other. And then when you beg me to kill you, I’ll hand you off to the homeboys and let them have their way with you.”

His laughter is forced, not that any of the laughing men around us notice.

He’s going to fuck me to death. Whatever else Hector Santos said, whatever else he threatened, I know he’s going to kill me. He is going to kill me because he thinks it’ll do the most damage to Coop.

What have I got to lose, then?

“You talk too much,” I grunt and spit in his face.

His anger transforms in slow motion, turning those handsome Latin features into something dark and twisted. This man right here, this is the real Hector Santos, hiding his evil, his darkness, his fucked-up kinks behind his golden-skin and raven-hair.

Yeah, he may be pretty on the outside, but his insides are evil and disgusting.

His smile fades, and the first thing I notice are the lines that form first around his tightening lips and then his dark eyes. His jaws clench, and he pulls back his arm fast. I’m in no position to move, to duck out of the way, so I just hold my breath and wait for the searing pain of his fist.