Viper (Hell's Handlers MC 9)

“Don’t work that way.” The smile he gave her was sad, almost defeated. “You think I could stay in this club knowing what they’re doing to women? Knowing what they were doing to you?” he asked as he lifted his vest off the bed.

Their gazes locked in a stare that felt far too intimate considering they’d met ten minutes prior. “I don’t know you,” she whispered.

Another sigh. “No, you don’t, do you?” The words were as sorrowful as his eyes. Rising, he moved to the door. “If you’re coming with me, we leave in two hours. You’re free to roam about, but I wouldn’t recommend going outside. Don’t want to risk anyone seeing you. I got some sweatpants and shoes in my saddle bags. Not sure how great they’ll fit, but it’ll be better than nothing.”

He’d brought her clothes? Why did that simple gesture have her near tears?

“Can I help you up?”

Cassie shook her head. “I got it.” He could never know how much she wanted to say yes. If he did, if he put an arm around her or helped lift her, she might latch on to him and never let go. No, she needed him to leave the room before she begged him to climb in the bed and hold her all night long.

The moment he left, her limbs began to shake. For a few moments, she just sat, staring at the wall, then she rose on wobbly legs and breathed through the adrenalin dump. A few unsteady laps around the room worked the kinks out of her stiff muscles. Her stomach made a very unladylike growl, sending her into the hallway in search of food. What she found had her once again stunned. Viper stood at the stove, cracking eggs and dropping bacon in a sizzling pan.

“Pants are on the table. You hungry?” he asked, back to her.

How had he known she was there? She’d been virtually silent tiptoeing down the hallway. “Um, yeah, I haven’t eaten in a day or so.” She took one step into the room. How the hell was she supposed to act around this man? This biker who’d come to rescue her. The entire situation went way beyond bizarre. Five minutes ago, she’d had the feeling she’d offended him by insinuating he’d stay with his club, and now he was cooking for her?

As she reached for the sweatpants, she asked, “Can I help?”

“Nah, just sit that pretty ass down. I’ll be done in ten minutes.”

Even though his back was still facing her, she nodded. As quiet as she could, she stepped into the sweatpants then pulled the string. A quick knot had them tight enough to stay up, though they bunched ridiculously around her waist. Not that it mattered. They were warm and covered her body. Once dressed, she slid into the seat to quietly wait.

Dozens of questions danced at the tip of her tongue, but she wasn’t confident enough to ask them yet.

Why are you doing this?

Will someone be coming for us?

Are you a cop?

How could you associate with these men?

Will I be safe when I leave here?

With each tick of the clock, more questions filled her mind, but she didn’t utter one for fear of losing her only way out of hell.

Almost exactly ten silent minutes later, Viper placed a plate in front of her. The chipped ceramic was piled high with fluffy scrambled eggs, crisp bacon, and two pieces of buttered white toast.

“Sorry,” he said. “No jelly.”

She laughed, a small giggle at first, but it morphed into an uncontrollable belly laugh.

Viper watched her with a look of fascination on his face.

“Sorry,” she said, struggling to breathe through the laughter. She pressed a hand to her chest. “I’m losing my mind. No jelly. God how I wish that was my biggest problem right now.”

He gave her an assessing stare with those milk-chocolate eyes. A few days’ worth of beard growth covered his cheeks giving him a rugged, almost dangerously sexy appearance. “You’re something else, you know that?”

The laugh died in her throat. Her mouth turned down. “What do you mean?”

“You’re tough. Not once have you cried, freaked out, yelled, or panicked.” He leaned against the stove as he folded his arms across his chest. “And you’re smart. I can see you studying every situation before you speak. Plus, you’re gorgeous. The whole goddamn package.”

Warmth filled her. No one had ever complimented her in such a sincere way. Finally, after hours and hours in the shack, she was pleasantly warm. Almost too warm.

Suddenly she became acutely aware of the fact that he continued to watch her. Staring at her plate was easier than looking at the man who roused a host of conflicting emotions. Once her gaze was on her food, the smell registered and eating became her number one priority. She scooped up a bite of eggs and gave it a taste. Damn, the man could cook. “This is delicious, thank you.”