Hell on Wheels (Kings of Mayhem MC 4)

But Barrett was already climbing to his feet. Blood spilled from his broken nose and when he roared at me, I could see his blood-stained teeth were broken.

He pulled out a knife and came at me. But even armed, he was no match for my years of military training. To his credit, he tolerated the right hook to the face, but the second took him down. He slumped to the floor, dropping the knife.

Picking it up, I was able to get Cassidy free.

But Barrett wasn’t done.

Lost in his psychosis, he rose to his feet, laughing.

“Well, ain’t that a bitch,” he said as he wiped his sleeve across his bloody mouth.

Cassidy and I stood a few yards away from him, watching him sway on his feet as he continued to laugh. I was anticipating his next move. He was maniacal. Capable of anything. When he reached for the gun in his holster, I ran at him and thrust the knife into his shoulder. Spinning him around, I rammed him into the wall.

Winded, he dropped the gun and slumped to the floor.

I kicked the gun over to Cassidy.

And then I lost my mind.

I wailed into him. Over and over again. Blood and spit splattered across his face and the brick wall behind him as I kept going and going. Pain radiated in my knuckles, but even then I kept going. For all the terror, for all the torment, for all the raping and torture he subjected Cassidy to, I let it take over me until my angel stepped in and pleaded for me to stop.

I straightened, breathless and wild.

She had stopped me just in time.

Because one more punch and I would’ve killed him.

CASSIDY

I had to stop him before he killed Barrett.

I saw the fire in his eyes.

Understood the rage on his face.

“He’s done,” I said, putting my hand on his arm to stop the punches.

He straightened, rope-like veins bulging in his forearms, sweat mingling with blood on his forehead as he caught his breath.

Our eyes met and I saw him come back from the dark place he’d lost himself to as he’d pounded into Barrett.

I reached up and touched his face, and his eyes filled with tenderness as he drew my hand to his lips and kissed it.

Barrett’s baritone laugh reverberated around the room; it was dark and sinister, and it sent shivers up my spine.

Blinded by a sudden rage, I dropped to one knee in front of him and shoved the muzzle of the gun under his chin.

“You’re pathetic,” I spat. “Look at you. Bloody and beaten. Not so tough without your zip ties and biker buddies now, are you?”

Fear shone bright in his eyes. He wasn’t sure what I was capable of, and I could see his mind racing.

Would I shoot him?

Did I have the lady balls to pull the trigger?

In a blink of an eye the fear was gone, replaced by the conceited gleam I was all too familiar with. It was the same dark light I’d looked into when he’d been on top of me, raping me.

I shoved the gun deeper into his chin, my finger itching on the trigger. He didn’t get to look at me like that anymore.

“If you think I won’t pull the trigger, then you’re even more delusional than I thought.” My eyes burned into his. “I want you to consider everything I might have thought about doing to you while you were violating me. While you were raping me. The pain I was going to inflict on you when I had the chance. The way I was going to kill you when the opportunity arrived. Well surprise, motherfucker, that moment is here.”

The gleam vanished.

“You were mine,” he spat petulantly. “Mine!”

I leaned in closer.

“I was never yours,” I said through gritted teeth.

“They gave you to me!”

He was like a child throwing a tantrum.

“You delusional fuck. They told you to be a protective older brother. Not a raping, violating psychopath.”

He laughed then, and I hated him.

“You say you didn’t want it, but you did.”

“I never wanted it,” I growled. “You just took it from me, not giving a damn that I didn’t want to do any of it.”

“Then why did you come when I fucked you?” he leered. His face shimmered with the memory, and I’d never been more tempted to pull the trigger than I was in that moment. “Admit it. You’re just as fucked-up as I am. Just as turned on by the struggle.”

I shook my head. “Having an orgasm during rape does not equate to consent. And I never, ever gave you my consent.”

“Your mouth didn’t. But your body did.”

I cocked the gun. I hated him. And I wanted him to die for everything he’d done to me.

“Cassidy.” Chance’s voice broke through the pain and rage spinning around in my head.

“He’ll never change,” I said without removing my eyes from Barrett. My finger itched as it rested the trigger. “He’ll never admit what he is. That he’s an entitled creep and a raping psychopath. He’ll just keep taking what isn’t his to take.”