Chaos Bound (Sinner's Tribe Motorcycle Club #4)(8)

“Viper likes them broken.” The biker stepped in front of them, and Holt ground to a stop, dipping his head. His hand slid to the gun tucked into the holster around his waist. Naiya could feel his heart thudding in his chest.

“Who you got there?”

“Piece of tail I found in a bar.”

“Piece of tail?” she whispered, indignant.

Holt dug his finger into Naiya’s side and she forced a giggle through clenched teeth. How could he be so calm?

“Gonna take her home. Too drunk to do much with.”

The biker grabbed Naiya’s hair and gave it yank. “They don’t need to do anything except lie on the bed and spread their legs. If you don’t want her, I’ll have a piece.”

A shudder ran through Naiya’s body, and she tightened her grip on Holt, pressing her forehead into his chest. Nonononononono. Not again. She couldn’t go through it again. A soft whimper of fear escaped her lips and Holt’s body tensed.

“You don’t want her bro. She’s got…” He lowered his voice to a rough whisper. “Fucking STD, man. Doing the brothers a favor by taking her outta here.”

The biker jerked back, and released her hair. “Fuck. Hate that f*cking shit. Such a f*cking waste of *. Go.”

Holt nodded and tugged Naiya’s shirt. She quickened her pace, almost dragging him after her.

“STD?” She hissed at him. “You told him I had an STD? I’ve never had sex without a condom except for…”

She cut herself off. Rape wasn’t sex. Only fifteen, she’d been flattered by Viper’s attention at a Black Jack party. He’d been charming, gentle, and seductive. But the moment he had her alone, everything changed. Too late, she realized there was no going back. No didn’t mean no to Viper. It meant nothing at all.

“Shut it, darlin’,” he murmured. “You wanted to be passed around? Handed over to Viper? Nothing turns a man off more than tainted *.”

She stiffened in his arms. “I think I liked you better when you couldn’t talk. Before, I was just an innocent and helpless victim of Viper’s cruelty. Now I’m a drunk piece of tail teeming with STDs.”

“I’m protecting you,” Holt said. “And you don’t seem to appreciate that I’m sacrificing to get you outta here. What I want to do is go back and shoot every f*cking Jack I see, but there’s no way you’re gonna make it out of here on your own.”

“I thought I was protecting you.” She huffed. “After all, you’re the one who can hardly walk.”

“Don’t need to walk to use a knife or a gun. Don’t need a woman to protect me.” They reached the edge of the parking lot, and Holt nodded at the two guards.

“Bitch’s got a f*cking STD. Gettin’ her outta here.”

“Christ, Rafe. You sure can pick ’em. Just toss her out and let her find her own way home.” One of the guards grabbed Naiya’s shoulder. “I’ll take her to the gate. Bitches gotta learn not to bring that shit into the club.”

Holt pulled Naiya against his side. “Got another chick already lined up. Gonna bring her back and share her around. I can drop this one off on my way.” He took a step forward, and the second guard stepped into his path.

“What the f*ck happened to your face?”

Desperate for a distraction, Naiya turned, hoping the guard wouldn’t recognize her. There had been an endless parade of Black Jacks and sweet butts in and out of her mother’s apartment when Naiya lived there, trading drugs for sex, or just hanging around. She had never felt safe at home, and often had to barricade herself in her room to keep out the Jacks who assumed she was her mother’s daughter in every sense of the word, and didn’t care that Naiya was underage or unwilling.

“You want a kiss, sugar?” she said. “Maybe a blow? I don’t think the stuff on my lips is catching right now.” God, she sounded like her mother.

“Fuck.” The guard stepped back, his hands flying in the air. “Don’t f*cking touch me. Get her the f*ck outta here, Rafe.”

Naiya’s pulse kicked up a notch, and she fought the urge to run as they stumbled forward and into a sea of chrome and metal. Dozens of bikes were parked in neat rows. Oh God. With the guards watching, how would they find the right one?

“You sure that’s Rafe?” One of the guards muttered behind them.

“He was wearing his cut.”

“When did he grow his hair? And what’s with the beard?”

Holt pressed the key fob and she heard the beep of an alarm.

“Over there.” He gestured to the far end of the lot, and Naiya picked up her pace, urging Holt to hurry.

“Rafe.” The shout echoed in the darkness, and Naiya trembled.

“Can’t you go faster?”

“That’ll answer their question the wrong way.” Holt kept his pace slow and even, his weight heavy on her shoulders.

“Rafe.”

He raised his hand in the air, and waved just as they reached the dead Black Jack’s bike, as if saying good-bye.

“Do you know how to drive it?” Naiya slid on the pillion seat the way she’d watched her mother slide onto countless motorcycles as she raced away leaving Naiya alone night after night.

Holt snorted as he straddled the bike. “It’s a Harley, darlin’.”