A Lock Of Death by Beena Khan
15
PAST
I was riding Stone while Lax moved from behind me.
The sounds of skin against skin filled the air and little moans escaped me. Once upon a time, I used to hate moaning for them.
Stone shoved a coarse finger inside of me while he fucked me.
A whimper left my mouth and my eyes turned glassy.
Lax liked my other hole too much.
He’d been my first, at least from my ass.
In the beginning, I used to hate this position—being sandwiched between them—but I grew used to it. They knew my body inside and out, what turned me on and how to make me turn putty into their hands. I continued to move, but instead of up and down, I moved forward and backward. Stone lifted his blade from the bed and inched it toward the underside of my breast, nicking me there.
I yelped and paused.
Pop.
My body stilled.
The sound of a gunshot went off in the clubhouse.
Curses were dropped in the atmosphere.
Behind me, Lax pulled out quickly, but Stone shoved me off him, and I went free falling, tumbling off the king-size bed.
It happened so fast, I couldn’t think of anything to break the fall. My eyes widened, startled, and I sucked in a sharp breath. I covered my face with my hands. I didn’t need a broken nose or broken teeth. I yelped when my bare elbows met the hardwood.
I snarled under my breath.
Motherfuckers.
You would think they would treat the girl who pleased them nicely.
I shook my head, cussing at them silently in my mind again.
Stupid pieces of shit.
They wanted some ass, yet they couldn’t take care of that same ass.
So much for bloody aftercare.
With my mind bruised, I sat upright on the floor and rubbed my elbows. Shit… Blood clung to my joints, and I sighed.
Pop.
Another fire came.
What was going on?
Was the police here?
I was still on the floor when the door barged open.
My eyes landed on the man’s black leather shoes first before crawling upward, tracing his fitted, black pants and his white satin shirt. He didn’t wear a leather jacket like the men at the clubhouse.
Pop. Pop.
Before I could see his face, two gunshots rang in the air.
I screamed and glanced at Stone and Lax.
They were naked and dead with their back’s flats on the bed, their eyes wide open.
The man had just killed two members of the clubhouse.
Two motorcycle club members of The Ace Outlaws.
I glanced at one of the deceased men with brown hair and pale skin.
The Vice President.
Shivers ran down my spine, and I bit down on my lower lip.
I jerked my attention back to the man in the doorway, meeting his eyes for the first time.
Black eyes.
I sucked in a sharp breath at the coldness in them.
The man was lean and tall, over six feet, taller than the bikers in this clubhouse. His suit coat was so fitted, it was like a second skin.
He had a confident flair about him like he was self-composed and self-assured. His eyes were dark like two pools of glistening blackness, and thick black eyebrows framed them. He had his revolver aimed at me, and I still hadn’t moved from the floor.
The stranger had an immaculate, trimmed beard, his midnight raven hair contrasted against his fair beauty. My eyes fell on the tentacle of a spider tattoo on his hand as he grazed his beard.
He was very handsome, but his eyes held no smile for me.
No mercy.
I probably was going to die next.
I didn’t recognize him, and I’d never met him before.
I raised my hands in surrender.
His dark gaze glanced at my face before it lowered to my long braid on the floor. Then, they fell on my bare breasts and legs. I glanced down and noticed the trickle of blood rolling down my stomach from the earlier nick. I was still naked with my legs parted.
He could see every inch of my pussy.
I closed my legs on instinct, hiding it from his view.
I didn’t think I was going to be interrupted during sex.
My cheeks didn’t flush as the man looked at my body.
Shame and modesty had been missing from my soul for years.
“You don’t want to kill me,” I said softly.
He jerked his head up and arched an eyebrow.
“My President will not be pleased,” I continued.
I knew my President Oliver wasn’t here today.
The mysterious man in black smirked.
A tremor ran through my body, chilling my bones to my core.
“Why did you kill the bikers?” I dared to ask.
He shrugged. “Business conflicts. They stole from me.”
I tried glancing behind him, and more fires in the chaotic background went off.
He moved into the room with the gun still pointed at me.
I rose to my feet slowly, my eyes falling on my clothes hanging nearby on the bed. I wanted to snatch them and re-dress, but I still had my hands held up in surrender, so I let him see me in my naked glory.
I tried searching through this man’s eyes to see what he might want from me. A dangerous aura came from him, and I swallowed hard.
Would he start by fucking me or stabbing me?
Maybe both?
Stone had been into that shit.
Then, the stranger spoke.
“How many more of you in this clubhouse?”
His voice was deep and masculine. So rich and smooth like honey.
I chewed on the inside of my cheek and shook my head slowly.
“There is only me.”
He arched an eyebrow, his black eyes filled with doubt.
“If you’re lying to me, it won’t be good for you,” he warned.
I swallowed thickly, and I shook my head fiercely.
“I am telling you the truth. There is only me. Sometimes, other girls come and go, but I’m the only one who stays here.”
The man asked, “Who’s old lady are you?”
Old lady. I wish I was someone’s wife.
“I’m not married.”
He narrowed his eyes. “So, you’re a whore?”
I nodded. I wasn’t offended by his remark.
The mysterious man was quiet for a few seconds, and he observed me again. “Your name,” he demanded after a moment.
“They call me Nine.”
He arched an eyebrow. “Why Nine?”
When I didn’t reply, his eyes lit up in recognition.
“Nine motorcycle club members.”
He grazed a hand through his spotless beard like he was thinking hard. “They share you.” He said it like a statement and not a question.
I nodded anyway.
He didn’t react at all, and he only observed me.
Curiosity filled those dark as night eyes.
“They come to you one by one or…?”
His eyes narrowed, and I understood what he was implying.
I didn’t know why he was asking though.
“Many times, it’s more than one,” I didn’t know why I was fessing up my truth to him. I eyed the gun. I didn’t want him to kill me though. “It’s two, four,” my throat bobbed as I swallowed the lump in my throat, “or Nine. Sometimes they all come together. Sometimes, they bring their friends over.”
Yes, I’m a filthy harem whore. Sue me.
The man averted his gaze and stared at the corpses near me.
At last, he lowered his gun. Perhaps, he wasn’t going to murder me after all. He returned his attention to me.
“How long have you been here?”
I didn’t know why he simply talked to me instead of touching me already. I didn’t understand him at all.
“Ten years,” I squeaked out before clearing my throat.
His eyes darkened and he moved toward me.
I cowered immediately until my bare back hit the wall.
He paused. “How old are you now?”
“Twenty.”
He raised an eyebrow.
“You were a child when they brought you here.”
I slammed my eyes shut and stared at the floor.
I didn’t think about my past anymore.
I peeked at him, and his eyes had narrowed.
“Are you going to kill me too?” I whispered.
The stranger tightened his grip against the trigger.
Fuck. He would shoot me.
He probably didn’t want a witness.
My lower lip trembled, and I protested, “I could sleep with you.”
He tilted his head.
I didn’t feel any disgust as I spoke.
Using my body was the only thing I knew in my life.
“Your men too. Whatever you want, I’ll do it.”
When he didn’t reply, I closed my eyes, waiting for the fatal blow.
Pop. Pop.
My eyes popped open, and I breathed.
I glanced down and ran my hands down my body, looking for gunshot wounds. My pulse jumped through my throat, and I sighed in relief that I was clean.
The hair on the back of my nape stood up as I glanced to my left.
Stone and Lax.
I grimaced when my eyes went to their naked bodies and their lower limbs. My gaze zeroed in between their thighs. The bulging head of their dicks was blown off. Bile wanted to crawl up my throat, and I wanted to vomit. Metallic blood poured out of their wounds. My horrified eyes met the mysterious man in black.
My puzzled expression met his.
“Why did you kill them again? They’re dead.”
He only replied, “I won’t kill you.”
He avoided my question.
I sighed in relief again.
“Thank you, thank you,” I whispered gratefully.
The stranger tilted his head. “Don’t thank me.”
My pulse spiked up.
“If I was a better man, I would have returned you to your family. You do have a family, correct?”
I nodded. Glimpses of my father’s bright smile filled my mind.
“I’ll spare your life,” he continued, “I’ll get you out of this life, but you’ll work for me.”
My ears perked up. Work?
He took in my confused expression.
“I don’t have any goodness in me,” the man continued. “I run many businesses.” My eyes widened. “For one of them, I need girls to transport heroin from one place to another.”
I bit my lower lip.
He wanted me to be his mule?
“I’ll help you escape from here, and you’ll be under my protection,” the stranger continued in a deep voice. “I’ll give you a home to stay in where no man can touch you, where no man can reach you.” I blinked back grateful tears. “I won’t touch you either. You have my word.”
I could only nod as rough breaths left my mouth.
The man grazed a hand through his beard. “By helping you, I’m doing a favor for you, and in return, you will do a favor for me too.”
My heart thudded. “And if I refuse?” I dared to ask.
He smirked, and his dark eyes filled with a glint.
“It’s your choice,” he replied, “I could easily leave.”
My heart fell. He would help me only if I helped him.
Profit. It made sense though. No one helped anyone for free in this life of crime. At least, I was glad he didn’t want sex.
“Your President of the motorcycle club isn’t here today, but he will return. I will be gone by then, but you’ll still be here as his whore.” I cringed. “He will recruit new prospects, and he will build his charter again. You will be shared once again.”
I bit down on my lip and nodded.
“I’ll do it. Just get me out of here.” I hated that plea in my voice, but this was my golden ticket out of this hell house.
The man gave a curt nod. “Get dressed and we’ll leave.”
He turned around and his footsteps retreated.
“Wait!” I called out.
He paused but didn’t turn around.
“Who are you?” I asked with wonderment.
I didn’t even know his name.
The mysterious man in black tilted his body and looked at me. Those rare eyes of his were so penetrating and deep like a dark creature.
I was almost afraid he wouldn’t tell me.
He turned back around, facing the door, and moved forward.
“Alexander Nikolaev.”
His back disappeared through the door.
My eyes widened in recognition.
I’d heard of that name before.
The leader of the Bratva.
The Pakhan.