Maverick (Hell's Handlers MC 2)

She was about to fire back some halfway witty retort when the unmistakable sound of men’s heavy footsteps echoed in the hallway outside the door. For one insane moment, Stephanie almost laughed. Chalk it up to fear, exhaustion, and low blood sugar, but she found it hilarious how obvious it was that the men were in the hallway when she’d been straining so hard to hear something, anything, to warn her of their approach.

“Hey, wildcat, look at me.” Maverick’s voice was clipped, commanding.

She obeyed without thought, rolling her head in his direction.

“Fuck,” he said when their gazes connected. “I’m so sorry, babe. I can’t do shit for you. I’ve been trying to get out of here for days, but I’m stuck.”

“It’s okay, Maverick,” she whispered as shakes started to dance through her.

“Whatever happens…” he said. “Whatever happens, you look into my eyes. Like you’re doing now. The whole time. You understand?”

The eyes he spoke of widened, and she nodded. He sounded like he cared. Like the thought of her being violated was tearing him apart. “I’m sorry you’ll have to see—”

“Stop,” he said, shaking his head. “I don’t give a shit about myself. Go wherever you have to in your mind, but keep looking at me.”

Stephanie swallowed a beach ball-sized lump and moved her head in a single nod just as the door swung open and Shark and King filed in. Both men ignored Maverick and proceeded immediately to her, looming over the table.

King sneered down at her, and she swore right then, if her hands were free, she’d commit her first murder and serve the time without a moment of regret. If she survived this, that smug face would haunt her nightmares, but at least there, she’d be free to exact her revenge. Strip him, tie him to this very table, and leave him out in the woods for birds to peck out his eyes and rabid woodland creatures to slowly feast on his balls.

“Fucking stinks in here,” King grumbled.

“Happens when you don’t let us out to take a piss,” Mav fired back.

“No worries.” Shark disappeared for a moment, then came back with a bucket he handed to King.

Before she had time to process his intent, King dumped the bucket on her lower half.

Icy water crashed over her, making her shriek in shock. Shit. It was colder than cold. But at least it would wash away the urine she’d been lying in for hours.

King laughed long and loud as he tossed the bucket into a corner. “Miss me?” he asked, hovering over her once again.

“About as much as I miss a nasty bout of diarrhea,” she replied. “Which I have to say, smells better than you. What the hell have you been doing?”

Maverick’s bark of laughter had her smiling despite the dire position she was in. Words were her only weapon at the moment so the elementary-school taunt would have to do. And it worked. King’s nostrils flared, and a vein throbbed in his bald scalp. He fisted a hand in her hair, yanking her head up.

“You’re going to pay for that,” he whispered for her ears only. “Hope you weren’t still holding out hope that I’d be getting you out of this.”

It hurt like hell, but Stephanie managed to bite back the yelp of pain. No way would the motherfucker get the satisfaction of knowing he was causing her any discomfort.

“I want first crack at her,” King said as he dropped her head back to the table and looked at his master.

“Knock yourself out.” Shark waved away King’s concern as though he was asking if he could eat the last yogurt in the refrigerator, not be the first one to rape her. “I’ve got my own piece coming later. But leave some for Skippy and the others. Think I’ll watch, though. Get me in the mood for my own bitch.” He palmed his crotch and rubbed up and down the length.

Stephanie gagged.

“Fuck, Shark, no one wants to see you grabbing that cocktail weenie between your legs,” Maverick said.

“Shut the fuck up,” Shark shot back. “Get to it, King.”

Stephanie’s breathing increased to near hyperventilation as King circled a hand around one of her ankles. With a lecherous grin that made bile rise in her throat, he trailed his large hand over her calf and up to her thigh.

There was nothing she could do about the rapid breathing and the shakes, but she made damn sure those were the only outward signs of distress. Inside her head, she was screaming, crying, hurling every vile insult possible at King. She was also begging him to stop, pleading with him to leave her untouched. But he’d never see it.

Instead of letting the fear and horror out, she clenched her back teeth and turned to meet Maverick’s gaze. Those olive-green eyes met hers, and he nodded once.