Viper (Hell's Handlers MC 9)

Why the hell did they call her bitch like it was some kind of common pet name? She’d been called bitch more in the past twelve hours than in her entire life.

“Nothin’ to say?” He snorted out a laugh. “That’ll change fast. You’ll be saying ‘yes, sir’ and ‘no, sir’ all day long.” She glanced up just as he smirked. “Mostly ‘yes, sir.’”

A run of terror skittered up her spine. Clenching her teeth, she tried to give him a formidable glare. She refused to let him know how every word he spoke was a lightning strike of fear directly to her heart.

“W-why are you doing this to me. I don’t want to be here. I’m not a willing participant. It’s kidnapping. And it will soon be rape.” For some reason, the why mattered to her. Was he in some sort of financial crisis? Struggling to feed a horde of children? Was this a desperate attempt to save his family? It certainly wouldn’t justify his actions, but it’d give her some hope that she had at least a snowball’s chance in hell of being set free if she discovered he did, in fact, have a conscience.

The ogre cocked his head and grinned. “That’s an easy one. Money, baby doll. It makes the world go ’round.”

Money? She could work with money. A tiny spark of hope flared low in her stomach. “Are you in some kind of financial trouble? I have money. I can help you out if you let me go. You know you kidnapped me, right? You could do hard time for this.” Hard time? Who was she, some kind of wanna be TV detective?

“Nice try, bitch, but nah. Club’s got money. You know how many bitches just like you we move each year?” He shrugged. “Profitable business. Ain’t gonna risk fucking that up to let you go. No matter how much you offer.” Then he laughed as though he found himself hilarious. “And we’ll only do that hard time if we get caught.” With a wink, he stepped back into the hallway. “And we ain’t gonna get caught. Get comfy, princess, you’ll be here for another day or so before your master comes to collect his new pet.”

Any hope she might have had seconds ago burned up into ash. Greed, straight up money-hungry business was driving this bus.

For one fleeting moment, while that smarmy asshole Wayne had been delivering her to this piece of shit shack in the woods, she’d thought she’d glimpsed a man who didn’t approve of what was happening to her.

An angry-sounding growl had come from the hunk in leather who seemed to be some kind of guard dog for the bikers. Something about him struck her as different. A kindness none of the others possessed. The energy he projected drew her attention.

Now she was trying to read biker’s auras? Yep, she was cracking up.

It didn’t matter what she thought she’d seen in the man. When she’d given the guy her most pleading save me look, all she’d received in return was a cold, hard stare. Clearly, she’d been desperate enough to romanticize the biker’s honorable moral code.

He’d been a gorgeous man. Tall, lean but not skinny with a leather jacket and jeans hugging his firm thighs. A floodlight had shone in her direction, blocking her view of his true eye or hair color, but both appeared some shade of brown. Maybe on the lighter side. A few days’ worth of stubble obscured his cheeks. Cassie had had the insane desire to rub her face against his to find out it if was scratchy or silky soft.

Hot was too mild a word to describe him. Incendiary more like it. Had she run across him at her father’s country club, she’d have swooned and stammered like a schoolgirl.

Another bark of laughter left her. That man wouldn’t set foot inside a country club. And not just because security wouldn’t allow it, but because he was way too badass.

Too bad he was as evil as the rest of them.

CHAPTER FOUR

PRESENT DAY - TENNESSEE

The low hum of Copper’s truck pulled Cassie from memory lane back to her empty home. He’d volunteered to pick her up and take her to the clubhouse for Viper’s second memorial of the day. This one would be far more informal than the one held at the funeral home earlier that day. In fact, this was a family event for the club only. Patched members, their ol’ ladies, and prospects by invite only. Thunder would be there since he’d been present the day Viper died, but he was the only prospect as far as she knew.

Even though she’d been expecting it, the sharp rap on the door had her jumping. Being constantly alone in the house would take some getting used to.

She opened the door to find the six-foot-five man frowning down at her. “Why didn’t you ask who it was or peek through the window?”