Stephanie Tyler - Vipers Run

“Sounds like you have personal experience?” I asked, unable to stop the wiseass comment.

Her expression shuttered, but she nodded briefly. “My sister.”

“Your sister dated one of the Vipers?”

“No, one of the Heathens.”

I lifted my chin. “That’s not the same thing at all, Detective.”

“Bullshit. Cage is a crossover from the Heathens. That just proves to me that these guys are interchangeable.”

“They’re not angels, but they don’t pretend to be. They do a lot of legitimate business in this city, don’t they? Look at the buildings they own. The stores too. They don’t bring their problems within the city limits.”

“Drugs are being pushed in here because of them.”

“Drugs are being pushed everywhere,” I pointed out. “Without Vipers, I’d hate to see how easily it would happen. There’s always going to be an underworld of criminals. Sometimes it takes bad guys to fight bad guys. And sometimes it’s hard to tell the difference between the good guys and the bad guys.”

“You’re really naive to believe that.”

“You don’t know my background at all.”

“I can tell just by looking at you. Rich bitch looking for a bad boy to make her feel good. You’ll slum for a little bit, but, honey, get out while you can.” She got up then, effectively ending the discussion. And then she turned. “I’ll find a way to take them down if it’s the last thing I do. Consider that a warning. And I won’t go easy on you or any of the women there. You’re as complicit as the men you hang out with. Try that on for size.”

I didn’t want to. I didn’t break her gaze, forcing her to when she finally walked away, shutting the heavy steel door behind her. I didn’t want to go in and let Holly see me upset, but Detective Flores’s words definitely had an effect. If I didn’t know better, I’d think that Cage asked her to talk some sense into me.

He didn’t want to let me go, he said, but he also hated the idea of me staying. I’d never been more confused in my life.

I put the towel over my face, let it stay there for a second and then pulled it down slowly. When it got past my lips, I opened my eyes. And I tried to scream.

I blinked and coughed. I tried to remember where I was, what had happened. My mouth tasted awful, like some kind of medicine.

He’d stuffed a rag into my mouth when I’d started to scream. And now Agent Jeffrey Harris stood over me as I lay on the ground, immobilized. My hands were tied above my head, and when I tugged them I felt that they were tied to something in the ground. I wouldn’t take my eyes off Harris, though. My legs were similarly tied, but I was thankfully dressed.

Maybe he was just going to kill me.

That was my thought—and honestly, if that happened, I’d be lucky. I couldn’t take another violation. I’d barely survived the last one.

That’s when he put the knife against the center of my chest, right between my breasts, and dragged it down, slicing my shirt, bra and shorts right down the middle. Cutting my skin, and I watched in horror as my body was exposed and blood welled along my breasts and belly. He stopped at my crotch, put the knife down and ripped the shorts and my underwear in two, leaving them in tatters.

I shivered, from fear, the cold, the cuts . . . and he laughed. Took out the gag and I spat, “You . . . fucker.”

“You crossed my path again, Calla. That’s a sign we weren’t done yet.”

“I won’t stay quiet this time.”

“I know. But you’re not going to have a choice.” He shrugged as he ran a finger over my nipple. “It wasn’t as much fun for me when you weren’t awake. I bet you’re even more of a firecracker in bed these days. Have to be, to catch the eye of one of the Vipers guys.”

He rubbed a hand on his chin as he stared down at his ringing phone. He pressed the screen and I heard, “You got the bitch?”

“She’s ready and willing,” he said.

God no . . . no . . .

I hadn’t realized I’d started screaming until he grabbed the gag and began to stuff it inside my mouth again so I couldn’t say anything, let alone breathe. Because I’d started to panic, hyperventilate . . . and I did the only thing I could think of. I head-butted him, hard. He looked stunned the first time, and I did it twice more before I passed out.

When I woke again, we weren’t in the woods. I was lying on a table in a place that looked a little bit like the Vipers clubhouse, but the wood paneling was darker. I was on a hard, raised surface—it took me a second to realize it was a pool table. And it was far too quiet.

“Place is soundproofed,” Jeffrey told me. My head jerked toward the dark corner and the sound of his voice. Had he just been sitting there watching me? “You’ll make a great present for the Heathens. Especially Troy.”

No. Not Cage’s brother. “You’re a sadistic bastard.”

“You make it sound like that’s a bad thing.”

I swallowed hard. Stared at the ceiling instead of him. “Why?”

“Really? That’s what you want to know?”

“Yes. I get why now, why here. Your symbolism’s not exactly original, but I’d expect that from someone whose family had to buy him into private school.” I heard a snarl, knew I was pushing my luck, but didn’t care. “How many other girls have you done this to? How many women?”

“More than I can count, but none of them were like you. You were really special, Calla. My first. They say you never forget your first.”

“You fucking bastard.”

“It’ll be nice to have you awake for the whole thing. I’ll film it this time, and once the Heathens have their way with you . . .”

God, he’d let them kill me. Or was I supposed to beg for my life?

I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. “Cage will find you, Jeffrey. I can’t feel sorry for myself knowing what he’ll do to you when he finds you.”

I thought I saw him pale slightly, but maybe it was just wishful thinking on my part. I heard the bikes pull up—Heathen bikes—and when I looked back up at Jeffrey, he was smiling.

I closed my eyes when I heard the doors slam open and the rough voices began to yell. God, this couldn’t be happening. I kept my eyes closed even after I heard fighting, because if I didn’t look, none of this would be real.

It was only when I felt a familiar, rough touch on my cheek and heard his voice murmur, “Calla, baby, I’m here,” that I opened my eyes to see him.

“I don’t want you to see me like this,” I told him.

But Cage shook his head, even as he shrugged his jacket off to cover me.

“I’m just happy to see you.” His eyes were wet, his voice hoarse, and I felt someone working the ropes on both my arms and legs. He touched my face again.

“You . . . the Heathens . . .”

“We stopped them at the bottom of the hill. Rode their bikes up to surprise Harris. Thank God we found you in time.”

“Thank you.”

“Jesus.” He touched my bruised forehead and then my lips and my neck and I realized he was making the sign of the cross over me, blessing me.

“I want to walk out of here,” I told him when I was untied. He gave me his T-shirt to put on, wrapped blankets around me, slid his jacket on over everything.

Rocco was by the door and Preacher was there, watching us without watching.

“Where’s Jeffrey?” I asked.

“He’s here,” Cage told me. “Eli, can you take Calla to the truck? Connor’s there waiting.”

Cage kissed me; then Eli came to my side. I didn’t understand why until Cage moved away and I heard Jeffrey Harris’s scream, almost a howl. I met Eli’s eyes and he nodded. As he led me away I looked over my shoulder. Rally and Preacher were holding Jeffrey for Cage, and although I didn’t see everything, I knew what the blood between Harris’s legs meant.