Viper (Hell's Handlers MC 9)

“This is fucked,” Sarge muttered, cracking his knuckles.

“Keep it in check, brother,” Viper whispered back. “We can’t do shit right now. Save it for later.” If Sarge lost his temper as he was known to do, they’d be fucked.

“Bring her on out,” Fox said. “My buyer is looking for something real specific. I’ll check out the goods. She passes muster, we’ll pay and take her off your hands.”

Wayne’s beady eyes lit up. The motherfucker was practically salivating. Whoever the unlucky lady was, she must be going for a mint.

Viper and Sarge stood about twenty feet from the back of the van, arms crossed, taking it all in. They’d been invited along as extra security on a “sensitive transaction.” Viper hadn’t thought twice about it. He trusted his new brothers—and his father—implicitly.

Or he had. Until he realized his old man was involved in the one criminal act Viper couldn’t stomach. Hardest part to swallow was that Fox fucking knew what happened to Vanessa and what it did to Viper. He fucking knew Viper would never go for this shit.

All this talk of loyalty, brotherhood, having each other’s back, it was all horseshit if Fox couldn’t even stand behind his son. Couldn’t walk away from a business that represented the most traumatic event of his flesh and blood’s life. Viper’s stomach cramped so hard, he nearly doubled over in pain. Nothing hurt worse than family betrayal. He’d learned that from his pops. Turned out, the old man had been dead fucking right. This pained worse than anything he’d experienced to date—even Vanessa’s death.

As though sensing he was in Viper’s thoughts, Fox turned his way. Cold eyes devoid of feeling watched as though gauging his son’s commitment.

Was this a fucking test? One last twisted check of his loyalty?

Viper shoved down the newfound hatred for his father, ignored the red-hot poker of pain in his gut, and gave the man a nod. A false show of support.

Fox grinned. He was proud as fuck of his son for approving of the buying and selling of women.

Fuck.

Wayne fished a keyring out of his pocket. The thing made him look like an apartment super. After sifting through about thirty keys, he stuck one in the lock on the back door of the van and twisted. He yanked the heavy doors open then climbed in.

Despite the chilly temperature, sweat beaded across Viper’s forehead. He wiped it away without breaking his stare. With each second that ticked by, tension coiled tighter in his gut. Where the fuck was she?

After a few more beats of Viper’s heart, Wayne hopped out of the truck with what could only be described as a leash in his hand. A few solid yanks had a shadowed figure appearing at the open end of the van. He paused, then reached out and roughly grabbed hold of a nearly naked woman. After dragging her out of the van by a fucking leather collar around her neck, he shoved her toward Fox.

She stumbled then fell to her knees in the dirt at Fox’s feet. Viper’s knees throbbed in sympathy as the girl winced through a whimper.

Viper’s father arched his back and let out a loud booming laugh that had Viper’s fists clenching. “Appreciate the sentiment, darlin’, but I’m not the one you’ll be on your knees for.” Struggling to rise, she shivered uncontrollably. Viper swore he could hear her teeth chatter.

When she rose to her full height, which couldn’t be more than five foot five, Viper let his gaze scan her body. Clad in nothing but dark purple bikini panties and a matching bra, it was no wonder she was so fucking cold. Bruises marred her upper arms, nearly matching the underwear in color, and her flame-red hair was a tangled mess, as though she’d been thrashing for hours. The leather collar ringing her neck attached to the leash Wayne controlled. Despite the dirt and bruising, it was clear the woman had a curvy body made for long sleepless nights of passion. But not this way. Not against her will by a bunch of sick hypocrites and lowlifes needing to pay to satisfy their specific brand of fucked-up urges. She deserved better. Every woman did.

Sarge shifted, as though he was going to charge forward and take Fox down. Viper shot his hand out and caught his brother’s arm before the idiot got them both killed.

“Rein it the fuck in,” he rumbled so low no one would hear.

“Shit. Sorry. I’m cool,” Sarge muttered back, rubbing his hand over his smooth head. “Just…”

“Get it, brother. I really do.”

Sarge nodded and scanned the area around them.

Viper should be doing the same, but at that moment, the woman lifted her head, and he couldn’t do a damn thing but stare at her. Wide, green eyes, full of defiance stared up at his father. Even with black tear tracks streaked down her cheeks and her fiery red hair a rat’s nest, she was the most gorgeous woman he’d ever seen. With that face and that body, it was no wonder some sick fuck was willing to pay big bucks for her.