Radge by Esther E. Schmidt
CHAPTER THREE
– MERIBETH –
“I didn’t peg you as a stupid one,” I hiss and try to glance around him to see where my mother went. “And if it wasn’t clear enough, let me spell it out for you. I. Don’t. Care. What. Happens. To. Me. What I do care about is my mother, now fucking tell me.”
I expect him to hit me in the face; I could use the pain as a distraction. But instead, he keeps glaring at me. My chest is heaving. I know I’m in a screwed-up position to make demands but in reality? My hands are bound and I’m dangling from the freaking ceiling so what do I have to lose? I need to know my mother is safe.
It’s my fault she was hurt. She wouldn’t have been out there if I hadn’t stormed out of the house after my father dismissed me and insisted to marry me off to the fucking enemy. And I’m still fuming he wouldn’t even hear what I had to say. Marry the enemy, fucking hell, I’d rather have this hot looking biker take my virginity.
The things I’ve heard about him speak volumes. But to see him before me? Tattoos on his face, blond spiky hair, tattoos all over his arms and hands. He’s incredibly handsome but the guy is ruthless during cage fights.
He’s a man of his word, this I know. Not to mention, the way his mere finger stroking down my breastbone erupted pleasure throughout my body was shocking and very intriguing. Needless to say, where I lack all experience, he’s brimming with it.
The guy has been running this MC alongside his father for quite a few years now. My father always spoke very highly of these men, it’s another thing I don’t understand; how my dad could act without talking with Lynch.
The more I think about it, the more I’m liking the plan of Ramsey here taking my virginity. And I’m also not ashamed to say I might enjoy it more than having Leith, or worse, Rory taking me as a wife. I let my gaze wander over the fierce man standing before me and take him in. Yes. This biker is better looking than any mafia man I’ve ever met.
His hard eyes assess me and suddenly his inked hand curls around my throat, thumb and index finger keeping my jaw in a tight lock. “What was the last thing that went through your mind just now?”
I can’t help myself. I give him a smirk and tell him the truth. “That you’re better looking than any mafia man I’ve ever met. And before you ask how my mind jumped to this little fact, it was the thought of you taking my virginity. It would be a hell of a lot better than my father’s choice.” My lip twitches with disgust. “Having the enemy for a husband or worse, the man who raped my friend.”
His thumb gently strokes my jaw as he leans in, his breath hot against my ear when he huskily says, “Oh, it will be a hell of a lot better…for me. Feeling that tight pussy wrapped around my cock as I break you in. I might take your ass when I’m done making you bleed. See how many holes I can stuff you full of cock with. How does that sound?”
“Like you need to start torturing me instead. I suggest cutting off my ears first because you talk too much and I’m getting bored,” I mutter in an effort to seem unaffected.
But dammit, the reality of his words are getting to me. My body doesn’t feel like my own and it’s overheating from the things he just said. I’m absolutely screwed-up in the head. Hanging off the freaking ceiling while my body fills with lust for the one who kidnapped me. The one who mentioned he wants to torture me, take my body, and eventually kill me.
And yet my body involuntarily shudders when I feel his lips brush against my ear as he pulls back. Again, he pierces me with a hard stare, as if he’s taking in every inch of my whole being.
A smirk slides over his face. “You’re lying. You’re not bored, you’re aroused. And thank you for showing me a crack in your armor, babe. Quite helpful to see your facial reaction when I know you’re lying.”
He takes a step back and crosses his arms in front of his chest. Movement at the door catches my attention and I watch how Brodie steps inside the room.
“Where’s my mother?” The words are ripping from my throat without thinking.
Brodie glances at his president who lifts his chin with a slight movement.
“On her way to the hospital,” he says and I let my body sag into the restraints.
“Thank you,” I tell the both of them with a load of gratitude.
Brodie snorts. “Is she for real? Man, can I keep her? I don’t think I’ve ever met a woman like her.”
I’m about to give a snarky reply but I’m rendered speechless when Ramsey says, “You can’t, ’cause she’s mine.”
Now Brodie is the one crossing his arms in front of his chest and is giving his president a hard look. Ramsey returns it without blinking or so much as giving his VP any other details.
Their stare down comes to a stop when Ramsey’s phone starts to ring. He pulls the thing from his pocket and glares at the device before answering it and tapping the screen to hold it out in front of him.
He turns to Brodie so they can take the call together. “Talk fast, I’m in the middle of deflowering your daughter, and I’m enjoying myself immensely.”
“You can’t touch her,” my father snarls.
“Why?” Ramsey snaps back. “Because we leave women out of our business? Fuck you, McVay. You have no fucking honor when you murdered my father for something he didn’t do, killing four other brothers along with it. So, why would I respect you, your beliefs, or any fucking member of your family?”
“Lynch raped–” my father starts and I can’t stand here and say nothing while he keeps believing a lie and accusing an innocent person of something he didn’t do.
“No. Lynch didn’t touch Dara,” I snap in a harsh voice, earning both Brodie and Ramsey’s head to swing my way. “Talk to Dara. Alone, Dad. Please. I’ve tried to tell you how–”
“Beth,” my father croaks. “What are they doing to you? Is your mother there with you? Are you hurt? Is your mother hurt?”
“Enough,” Ramsey snaps. “Put this Dara on the phone if you would like to see your daughter again.”
“Dara killed herself. She couldn’t bear the shame of being dishonored,” my father says accusingly.
“No,” I whisper and swallow hard but then anger takes over. “That fucking Rory. He called her when we were in your office. She couldn’t lie to me when I was standing in front of her. I’m her best friend and she broke down and told me everything. I promised her I’d keep whatever she told me between you and me. But you wouldn’t let me talk to you alone. I wanted you to listen and somehow salvage the damage that was done to all of you because of what Rory did. Hell, maybe Dara didn’t kill herself. Rory must have gone back to tie off loose ends. I wouldn’t be surprised if he did. I mean, he did mention he wanted to marry me because Dara was damaged goods. All while his dick was the one that did the damage.”
I bite my lip to stop my own ramblings. Silence overtakes the room and I close my eyes. My heart hurts with the loss of Dara. It’s my fault. I promised her she could trust me and now she’s gone. Warm hands cup my face and I blink through the silent tears as a blurry version of Ramsey enters my vision.
“Hey,” he rumbles. “Come on, let’s get you down from here and we’ll talk, okay?”
I don’t give him a reply but feel someone pulling on my wrist and notice Brodie who is releasing my wrist. They must have ended the call because Ramsey’s phone is nowhere in sight. My shoulders, arms, wrists, hell…everything is hurting as my knees buckle. Ramsey takes me in his arms and for the first time I don’t have it in me to fight.
I should. He’s the enemy now too. The one my father went to war with blind; without so much as knowing all the facts and just massacred their friends. But instead of having my family’s arms embrace me, it’s a complete stranger who guides my head against his chest while tears fall down my cheeks as I mourn my friend.
I have to pull myself together in just a few breaths when Ramsey puts me on my feet as soon as we arrive at the top of the stairs. The long hallway is filled with noise, music mixed with loud voices.
I can’t afford myself to be overflowing with emotions clouding my senses. I’m a prisoner stuck in this clubhouse; the daughter of the one responsible for killing their friends. Shit. Why is he being nice to me? I have to pay attention. This can all be a trap. He’s guiding me into a large room with everyone’s eyes on me.
“Fraser, get her a bottle of water,” Ramsey rumbles as he pulls a chair back for me.
I let my gaze trail over the black painted, littered with headshots in silver frames, walls. The name of this MC is spray-painted onto another wall and there are large cabinets on my left. The solid wood table I’m sitting at is oval and a large number of chairs are surrounding it.
A bottle of water is put in front of me and I mutter, “Thanks,” and open it to down at least half in one go.
Brodie closes the door behind Fraser and then it’s just the three of us in a room once more. Except where we were in a hostile situation with me tied up and the threat of being tortured, I’m now watched through different eyes while sitting in a normal chair.
My rambling thoughts are brought to a halt when Ramsey says, “When you’re able, start from the top, please. I got the gist of things with the shit you mentioned and also some highlights during the phone call but I want to hear everything you know.”
I release a deep sigh. “Dara is three years younger than I am. Our mothers are friends, so we grew up together. She’s the daughter of a capo and she knew the day would come when her father would pick a husband for her.”
“Those mafia guys and their arranged marriages. All about keeping their daughters virginal, honorable women until their husband claims what’s theirs on the wedding night. Oh, and show off the bloody sheets in the morning,” Brodie mutters.
I nod and continue. “The last few weeks there was an older guy giving her attention and romancing her. She told me about it recently and when she showed me a picture she secretly took of the guy I instantly recognized Rory. I was shocked to discover Rory Mickle approached Dara. They’re from different mafia families, I couldn’t imagine my father would agree to an alliance with the Bane’s. And when Dara brought it to a stop, Rory went to her father to arrange their marriage. I confronted my father with what Dara told me…I saw the surprise in his eyes. I’m guessing he didn’t know Rory wanted an arranged marriage with Dara.” My hands turn to fists. “That asshole is vicious. He’s forty-one years old for Christ’s sake. Dara was sixteen when he approached her father. And Rory killed his first wife. Seriously, I don’t know why my father is believing his lies.”
I release a string of curses. My breath catches when a large hand engulfs mine. “You’re skipping over the details, babe.”
Glancing to my left, I slightly nod and pick up where I left off. “My father told me he’d handle it when I told him Rory was romancing Dara behind everyone’s back. Later that night Dara texted me about loud voices arguing in her father’s office. I told her my father would fix it. I mean, you guys handle the weapon transport. My father has been working with yours for as long as I know. He doesn’t need the Bane’s family connection for anything business wise. Why would he agree for a capo’s daughter to marry without any benefit? And I know Bane wants the connection, my father mentioned it several times but those fuckers want to get close to us because they want the connections my father has.” I shake my head. “And that’s why I don’t get any of this bullshit. My father clearly told me he would be signing his own death certificate if he hands over transport to Bane. They would bide their time and then take out my father to rule the Mountain West. So fucking stupid.” I take a few sips of water in an effort to calm down before I continue. “I texted her that night but she didn’t answer. When I heard my father get home, I asked him but he told me to leave it alone. The next morning my father told me Dara went to a friend’s last night and was found wandering the streets at four in the morning. When her father asked her what happened she mentioned it was Lynch who raped her.”
“My father wouldn’t rape a woman,” Ramsey growls. “There’s always available and willing pussy hanging around the clubhouse at any time of day. But most of all…he wouldn’t touch an underage girl.”
“I’m sure you’re right but my main reasoning here was the fact Lynch wouldn’t risk a solid partnership with my father that’s been ongoing for years. And the whole Rory arranged marriage right before it happened? Not to mention, Dara refused to see me. Nothing made sense. It’s why I got on my bike and went to check on her. I climbed the tree near her bedroom and went through the window. She threw herself in my arms and we held on for a long time. I knew she wasn’t lying about being raped. And the bruises around her throat and the black eye she had didn’t lie either. But when I asked her to tell me what happened she wouldn’t.”
“She couldn’t lie to her friend,” Ramsey states and I nod.
“Eventually she broke and spilled every detail that scumbag did to her. It was Rory. He was the one who got her out of the house, who raped her, who forced her to spread the lies, and to shut her mouth about everything else or he would make her life a living hell and kill everyone she cared about before her eyes. She was after all promised to him. And he also told her there was no way out for her, other than death. He fucking promised her he would make sure it was a slow death if she ever told something different than what he ordered her to.”
I shut my eyes for a breath or two and whisper, “I took the choice away from her and unleashed peril, resulting in her death anyway. Then I defied my father, had an argument with my mother and look where it all got me?”
“In the hands of the enemy,” Brodie mutters and Ramsey shoots him a glare.
“There have always been rumors about Bane and his desire to own the full weapon pipelines. It’s a setup with only losers, all except for Bane. But those fuckers will be dead in the ground soon enough,” Ramsey growls.
“What about my father?” I question.
Ramsey stays silent and yet I have my answer. Setup or not, my father did approve the retaliation that caused Lynch’s death.
None of this sits well with me and I swallow hard to push for the core of the issue. “Like I said, my father never wanted to be in business with Bane and had a solid partnership with Lynch. A sane person would confront the accused party first, right? Why didn’t he call your father?”
“That would be club business,” Ramsey grunts and stands. “Come on, let’s get you settled.”
Settled? What the hell does he mean? He holds out his hand but I keep rooted in my seat. If he thinks I’m going back to the basement, he’s got another thing coming.
“Fine, don’t cooperate,” he mutters underneath his breath and grabs my arm to pull me to my feet.
Brodie opens the door and follows us through the hall until Ramsey stops at a door to pull out a key. He opens it and pushes me inside.
“Stay here, I’ll be right back,” Ramsey grunts and I expect him to lock me in but to my surprise he was talking to Brodie and locks the both of us inside the room.
“What’s going to happen now?” I ask and cross my arms in front of my chest.
The dress doesn’t give any warmth and the adrenaline spike of the chain of events is wearing me down, along with Dara’s death, and my mother unconscious and now hopefully at the hospital. I still have no clue if she’s really there or if she’s still alive.
Ramsey slowly shakes his head. “Club business,” he says once more.
I grind my teeth and decide to ignore him as I take in the room. Weirdly enough this one doesn’t have a window. There’s a king size bed, some cabinets sitting alongside the wall, a TV, and a door leading to what looks like a bathroom.
“You can borrow one of my shirts and sweatpants if you want to change and take a shower. I could ask one of the club whores to give you some of their clothes but I don’t think you’d appreciate it.”
Disgust fills me and I don’t know why it affects me the way it does because I know very well these bikers have a load of women available to them at all times. He’s mentioned as much when he said his father didn’t need to rape Dara because he had enough variety of pussy if he wanted it.
“No need for judgement. They love taking cock any which way they can have it: it’s a mutual agreement. And before you start to ramble about your honor and shit? Think about how the mafia men in your world fuck around on their wives, huh? Keeping a mistress or two for the kinky side of fucking and saving the wife for status and popping out the necessary kids. While here? We fucking respect the woman who becomes our old lady. No fucking way would we plunge our cock in a stray cunt when we have our one and only at home. How’s that for respect and a stark contradiction, huh?” he practically spits. “But since you keep asking what’s going to happen, I will spill some of it.”
He takes a menacing step forward. If he thinks he’s going to scare me he’s got another thing coming. I might have had a weak moment when the news of Dara’s death hit me like a freight train, but I’m pulling myself together.
And by no means am I compliant because of the information I just spilled. I’m not a rat and only took it upon myself to help two parties unwillingly thrown into a war because of Bane’s selfish reasons. I had to try and salvage a connection. Not for myself, but to save my mother, my father, and my brothers.
I hold my ground but it only seems to please him when he leans in and cups the back of my neck to hold me in place. “You’re not going anywhere ’cause you’re going to stay right here. And your days as a virgin are going to end very soon.”
I hold his stare and try not to be affected by his words. And in reality, I’m not since it’s to be expected. There is no honor between enemies and I’m a simple pawn he’s holding, one he can break to cause irreparable damage to my father.
“Well, I guess you should bring the clothes of your whores then, since you’re going to be passing me around until I’m either broken or dead, whichever comes first and pleases you enough for the retaliation you seek,” I sneer.
He leans in close and places his mouth next to my ear. “I’ll take your suggestion under advisement.”
I swallow hard and before I can so much as push him away, he steps back. His eyes slide over my body and I’m about to sneer some more but I gasp instead when his hands are suddenly on my breasts as he grabs two fistfuls of fabric and rips the dress from my body.
The fabric falls to the ground while I process the shock of what just happened. I should cover myself but then again he’s probably expecting my shame and embarrassment; wanting the shock due to the degrading assault. So, instead I curl my hands into fists and let the anger and disgust flow through me as I pin him with a hard stare.
His inked hand reaches out to cup my face but I turn away. One of his fingers lands on the swell of my breasts. “No matching underwear and a sexy as fuck lace thong, huh? Quite the contradiction to a classy, stuck-up mafia princess. You can be all fierce and be revolted by my hands on you, but soon enough you will be begging for my cock.”
“Never,” I growl.
His laughter overtakes the room before the air rushes from my lungs when he throws me on the bed, his body is hovering over me the next instant. His callused fingers slide into my panties and he keeps staring at me while he strokes my folds.
I can feel my own eyes widen, shocked by his blunt actions but also due to the heat lighting up my body. A gasp slips past my lips and a moan threatens to tumble out but I quickly shut my mouth when I see the self-assured smirk slide across his face.
I know it’s useless, though. The rush of wetness coating his fingers is all he needs to know that my body is welcoming his touch. I let my eyes fall shut, overtaken by the tingles of electricity this man is causing to flow through me by strumming my clit and softly teasing my opening with the tip of his finger.
“Eyes,” Ramsey growls. “On me. Now.”
The sharp pinch on my folds causes for me to yell, “Fuck!” and pin him with an angry look.
“That’s it, little firefly. Eyes on me,” he rumbles in approval.
Anger fills my body and I want to back away from his touch but when his thumb starts to rub my clit in slow circles, all there’s left to do is push toward the pleasure that’s building. In this moment there is no pain, no grief, no enemy, nothing else but oblivion where my body is floating on pending bliss.
“Give it to me,” a husky voice filled with lust rumbles on a hot breath next to my ear and I willingly surrender.
White hot pleasure overtakes my body as I curl my spine and moan through my release. He keeps prolonging the bliss coursing through me and I don’t know if I can take any more. I’ve never experienced anything like this.
I might be a virgin but I’m not completely oblivious to sex. I’ve read enough romance books, know how to research the internet, and experimented with my own fingers. But this? An orgasm skillfully ripped from my body? An earthshattering moment in my life. And I love it.
Shame instantly overtakes me. How can I even think such a thing? Not to mention, I let Ramsey put his fingers between my legs while I’m not even fighting him off. As if I’m paralyzed by my own actions. I can only watch how Ramsey lifts himself up as he takes his hand out of my panties.
He brings his fingers to his face, inhales deep with his eyes closed before he pins me with his stare. Eyes black with lust he licks his fingers and seems to savor the taste before his gaze hardens.
“The taste of vengeance is always sweet. Even more when there’s a virgin involved,” he says and stalks to the door.
I finally find my voice and bellow, “Asshole!” as the door slams shut behind him.
