Viper (Hell's Handlers MC 9)

A quick peek over her shoulder showed Viper’s gaze on her, and Sarge drooling over Cindy who was once again serving drinks on the floor. Hopefully with cleaned hands.

With each passing second, Cassie’s curiosity grew until that damn note felt hot against her skin. “Screw it,” she whispered, unfolding the paper.

This biker just fucked your woman. If I’d go this far for pussy, you have no fucking idea what I’m willing to do for my club. Noon tomorrow. Bring Vito.

Cassie’s jaw dropped. From Cutter, my ass. Sarge was in so far over his head, he’d drown if Marco didn’t kill him first. Conducting unapproved club business as a prospect, making demands from men who’d made it clear they wanted nothing to do with the club, flaunting Marco’s girlfriend’s infidelity, and making Cassie deliver his inflammatory message.

With her hands clutching the open note on the bar, she peered over her shoulder and into Viper’s gaze across the room. He must have picked up on her oh shit vibes because he was out of the booth and marching in her direction before she’d blinked.

“That for me?” A rough, rumbling voice asked.

She whipped her head back around, then looked up, and up, and up. Shit, just how big was this guy? “What? Oh…uh…”

It didn’t matter what she said from there on out. Marco snatched the note from her clenched fingers with one hand while he clamped the other around her wrist.

“Wait—”

As he read Sarge’s words, his down-turned head hid his facial expression.

Until he finished and raised his head.

His murderous gaze collided with hers. Cassie swallowed hard. Her heart began a heavy thump.

Shit.

What the hell had Sarge gotten them into?

“I’m s-sorry,” she said, breath lodging in her throat.

Breathe. Remember to breathe.

“I didn’t know it said that.” The words came out in a rush. “It was…uh…” She might as well shut up. Any way she put it—the situation sucked. Even more for her than for him. “Sorry,” she said again as she stood and took one step back, tugging her wrist in his hold.

Where the hell was Viper?

She tried to turn, hoping momentum would free her wrist, only to be stopped by Marco’s giant hand grabbing the front of her shirt.

At the same time, the smacking sound of flesh striking flesh followed by a male grunt of pain reached her ears.

“Viper,” she whispered on a gasp. She jerked back, trying to break free of Marco, but the beast’s hold was like steel. He flexed his arm, yanking her forward.

Cassie’s ribs slammed against the bar. “Ahh,” she yelped.

Fuck, that hurt. She’d be sporting some serious purple bruising tomorrow. If she lived that long. As Marco continued to drag her forward, she clawed at his forearm. She managed to break some skin and elicit a hiss of pain from him, but it didn’t matter. He was too damn strong. Before she knew it, Cassie was being lifted up and hauled over the bar.

Memories of another night when she’d been taken from a bar pummeled her until she felt paralyzed with fear.

With nothing to steady herself on, she plowed face first into Marco’s face. Her nose mashed against a gawdy diamond studded cross hanging from his neck. Yeah, this guy was the picture of Christianity.

He didn’t give her time to register the pain in her nose before he was spinning her around. He grabbed her long ponytail, winding it around his fist. Her entire scalp burned to the point of tears and she reached up to release her hair. The more she tried to dislodge him, the harder he pulled until she was dancing on tiptoe and begging him to stop.

“Shut the fuck up, bitch,” he yelled over the noise in the bar. Cassie forced herself to give up fighting him and breathed through the discomfort while still balancing on the tips of her toes.

The whole bar was in a state of utter chaos. Men roared, fists flew, tables crashed, and women shrieked in the corner or shouted obscenities at whoever was closest.

In the middle of it all, Viper and Sarge traded punches with men twice their size. Marco’s lackeys, no doubt. As she dangled helpless by her hair, she had a perfect view of Viper. He threw a punch, connecting with some thug’s jaw.

Her heart hammered a stampeding rhythm. Next to him, Sarge dodged a flying fist, but missed landing one of his own.

Marco shouted orders to men in the bar, but she barely heard them. Her entire focus was on Viper. Another large man shoved through the crowd, hooking his arms under Viper’s.

“No!” She screamed, lurching forward on instinct. With a cry, she reached for her head and panted through the pain.

Viper struggled and shouted what had to be vulgar obscenities, but his words were cut off by a brutal punch to the stomach. When he doubled over, the man holding him jerked him upright just in time for him to be hit in the face. Blood poured from Viper’s nose and lip. He struck out with his feet but couldn’t make contact.